The Stereotype

So much has happened,
So much has changed
So many people have come and gone
They've all taught me something
They've all made me strong

I wondered how I could please them all
But failed to know what they want
Then one fine day I realized,
It wasn't me they wanted,
All that they needed was a stereotype

I have wings you know, but I mustn't fly
I also have a mind that I can't apply
I shouldn't disagree, I shouldn't differ
I must obey without a murmur
To make them feel proud, I had to be the stereotype

For years I have supressed myself
For years I did what they felt was best
I didn't want to hurt those I loved the most
But who was I fooling, I hated being the stereotype

What I have become was not what I wanted to be
The real me was hidden, afraid to be seen by anyone but me
People who wanted to see me as a saint
I know they loved me, I know they cared
To redeem myself though, I had to dare
I had to stop being the stereotype

Now they can see I'm not that nice
I'm not afraid to speak my mind
I'm not too sure they like me now
I've thrown away the facade
I'm no more the sorry stereotype

Seasons change, people come and go
but I've learnt what I must really know
What matters most is what I feel inside
Of people's perceptions I really don't care
Because I can look in the mirror and hold the stare

Surreal effects

Recently, I had some fun clicking some pics of a brown bottle in the sun! To my astonishment, the different effects actually created a vision of a beach and sunset. It made my day a little brighter and yes, I'm sure they may be the result of an amateur photographer's enthusiasm but hey, I'm sure I'll get better with time. Let me know your comments.

Irony of Life

A cool SMS forwarded by one of my friends, Deepti:
Irony of life:
Shoes that we wear are sold in air-conditioned show rooms
while, vegetables that we eat are sold on foot paths!

A local's view on locals

Forthe uninitiated, this is a Bombayiite's view on the lifeline of Bombay, the local trains!

I’ve been commuting by Bombay local trains for a long time now. Being born and brought up here, I do possess this certain fearlessness about hanging on the train doors during peak hours which is a trait of a true
Bombayiite. The pleasure of standing near the door and letting the wind kiss your face as your waiting to alight at your station is divine! Ask anyone who’s been sitting on the 4^th seat* or standing amongst 100s of people in crowded Bombay trains. After all these trains carry more than twice or thrice their capacity of commuters
during peak hours.

* For the ignoramus, these trains usually have seats meant for 3 people. However, in the forever adjusting and accommodating spirit of the city, during rush hours an additional person is allowed to fit in.

Overheard in a local:

Lady to Friend: My boss went on insulting me in front of the entire office today. I really wish someone just gives me a push or nudges me in the crowd. I really need to let out all the frustration by means of a fight.

Oh yes! You'll hear all this and much more in the locals. Trust me, no matter how much we complain of the crowds, the different stinks and sweats, the noise and so on, traveling in the locals will always give you more reasons to laugh than cry.

It’s raining vendors in Bombay locals, and no, I won’t be saying Hallelujah to that yet! Amidst all the mayhem, the local trains, especially the ladies compartments are also shopping complexes. In fact, they are the busy
shopper’s paradise. Vendors with all their wares from hairpins, brooches, combs, earrings, and other accessories trade in these trains. Oh, and before I forget, there also the fisher women, vegetable women trying to sell their stuff to women who have to cook again in the evening. It’s a win-win situation for all of us. The vendors get to display their goods to so many customers at the same time. The women save the trouble of going to the market and make fruitful use of their commuting time. Some of them even start cutting vegetables in the train itself to further save their cooking time.

Personally, I have nothing against these people. Bombay is a tough city and sometimes you really need to fight to survive. But then, there are times when these people stand at the entrance with all their baskets and make it very difficult for people to board or alight the trains. Sometimes they even sit near the door with their wares which really bugs people who have to necessarily hang at the door so that they don't miss getting down at the right station due to the crowd.

There is also a severe sense of desperation to be the first to board and alight a train amongst most of us. How else do you think you can manage to catch the best window seats or your favorite corner. Getting a place to sit in the local is like winning a million dollar lottery ticket for 75% commuters. And that reminds me, if I don't
end this post soon and leave, I might end up missing my train too. So time to bid adieu and rush to the station. (Dauda dauda bhaaga bhaagasa playing in my mind!)

Every day

everyday I die a thousand deaths
everyday I live to see another day
everyday I think I can't go on
everyday I do much more than I say
everyday I am in pain and whine
everyday I find happiness and shine
everyday I question my faith
everyday I am rescued by the Divine

First post

A lot of bitter-sweet incidents make you the person that you are. Many a times you wish you could relive certain moments again and again. Beautiful moments of love that give you a feeling of being loved, adored, and cared for immediately. Some proud moments that lighten up your face with memories of accomplishments and accolades. Then there are those times which make you feel like a loser. The very thoughts of those events can make you go through a range of emotions; ranging from ire, jealousy, helplessness, or deep anxiety that you never really overcame. But the most unforgettable and tragic moments that always keep you haunting are almost always the ones where you’ve lost a loved one. A breakup or a fight will always be remembered with great difficulty. But the pain and suffering of death can never be erased. Maybe, you learn to live with it but you never stop missing your dear ones.

I have always wanted to write down some incidents that have affected me greatly. I start this blog today to relive the best times I’ve had and will have in the near future. The agony and pain would be penned to see if I have a different perspective on them later. It happens to all of us right, a lot of stuff we’ve cried and been heart broken eventually makes us look like such fools. “I don’t believe I was such a dork to cry over that silly guy!” You know, things like that. :)