We all fall in love sometime

We all fall in love sometime

It’s something that we can’t help

It’s something that just happens

We just love the feeling of being in love

The hopeless romantic who’s lost all hope

We all fall in love sometime

No matter how much we try to hide from it

No matter how much we try to run away from it

No matter how much we avoid it

It always finds us

Maybe we just bad at the game of hide and seek

Or we just like to be tortured 

Of the feeling of being in love

But let’s face it, we are a lost cause

We all fall in love sometime

It’s the most beautiful feeling in this world

To be loved by someone who loves you

But it’s the most cruelest feeling in the world

Bringing with it a world of hurt

When things don’t really go your way

When you don’t meet the one 

You were meant to be with 

At least that what you feel in your head

It can make you the loneliest soul in the world

Leaving you feeling insecure and restless 

Despite all this, we all fall in love sometime 

Don’t let anyone, don’t let anything 

Tell you who you should fall in love it

Cause we don’t know either

Maybe they could point us in the general direction 

Now wouldn’t that be swell

Wouldn’t that would save us the time and effort

But you know what

No matter what they say 

We still fall in love sometime 

Let no one tell you your love is not right

Your love is immoral 

That you are not meant to be

With the one you love

Its against the very shred of nature

Cause I really don’t think they know either 

What love actually is

Other than what they have been thought

The lessons they have by hearted

They rote learned like a parrot

Using someone else’s thought

Understanding and perception 

Of what love should be

Never truly trying to get the big picture

But sadly their narrow minds 

And small head may never ever fathom

That we all have to fall in love sometime

With the one we are meant to love

And we may not really know who

So put all the thoughts behind

Let go and a chance, take the risk

Jump off that cliff

Never knowing if you would sore 

Or fall plat on the ground

A smooshed bloth on the earth

Cause we all need to fall in love sometime 

When we were Young

She saw him get out of the cab, joining his friends who had already entered the pub. Could it really be him... no it couldn’t be him, she thought. What was he doing in this part of town? What was he doing here? What was he doing in this city? So many questions swimming around her head. She peered through the windows to  check was it really him, ducking when one of his friend noticed her. So that’s how a gold fish in a fishbowl felt.

As she sat on the pavement she couldn’t help but go back to the time when they were young. A very strange place to reminisce, but she couldn’t help herself. As she stood up slowly, she once again glanced at him. Age had been kind to him, taken him in it’s stride. He seemed to be ageing well like fine wine. As she straightened herself, she glanced at her reflection in the window. She looked good, all thanks to the make up she wore, that made her look more younger, more prettier. Take it off and she just another plain Jane, who age had not been so kind. She felt a stab of pain in her heart, maybe that was why they called it window pane.

She remembered a time, which now felt like another lifetime altogether, when they were young, when they were friends. Growing up they had been very close to each other, almost inseparable. People would assume that they would fall in love, get married, have kids and start a family. This got her parents worried, cause though they liked him they didn’t approve of him because he came from the opposite end of the tracks, not from their social circle, not from their caste. He was good to have as a friend but not as a partner for life. She had been painfully aware of this, and even though she liked him, liked him a lot, she couldn’t bring herself to go against her parents wish. So when he finally found it in himself to propose to her, she put up an act, took offence to it and permanently friend zones him, even though inside her heart was breaking, more than the heart break he felt from her rejection.

She married into money, as her parents wanted her to, to social standards, into the same caste, into a bond that was accepted socially, besides her parents approval. She had pushed out two children from this. Her life was comfortable, her life was empty. She had given her love to someone who had no need for it, and this pained her. She felt pained that she let him go and in turn got trapped into a loveless marriage.

She finally found the courage to approach him. And when she tapped him on the shoulder, he turned to her, took a second to see her and then smiled and hugged her, bearing no animosity to her. for her rejection, holding no grudge. He held her tightly as if nothing happened, chatted with her animatedly, with excitement, as if nothing really happened. He was eager to know about her, what was she upto, complimenting her on her looks, congratulating her on her marriage, children, her life in general.

As she sat there listening to him, she just smiled, but on the inside she was breaking into a million pieces, she was hurting inside. She hated that she was growing old, and this made feel restless, made her feel reckless, especially knowing age and time had been kind to him, and cruel to her. She just wanted to close her eyes and take a picture of this moment, if this was the last time she would be seeing him. All she wanted to do was to turn back time and return to the time when they were young.

The Moronic Affliction

The world is filled with Atoms, Neutrons, Protons and Morons (well not quite original, but hey, if the shoe fits the feet then why bother). They wouldn’t realise they are one, even if it hits me them in the face (thank you Dr Amy Farah Fowler for this one). You just nudge, reach out and you could come in contact with one. They would probably take offence of you touching them, especially when traveling in a train that’s packed like a can of sardines, creating a ruckus as if you’ve violated their modesty. If this was the case  why did they choose travel by a train at the peak hour, take a cab instead, or why don’t they get a car.

They love to jay walk, even when there’s a proper pavement available (which unfortunately is a rare case). On a road that’s already in shambles, thanks to the metro, incessant digging, paver blocks (you take your pick). They insist on walking on the road, and no amount of honking would get them to budge. Makes you want to exclaim why the fuck (LANGUAGE!!!) are you walking on the road instead of the pavement. And if they respond means they’ve heard you, so why the fuck (LANGUAGE!!!) Are they still walking on the road??? God only knows, or their moronic mind.

In a office filled with meeting rooms and desk phones, they insist on using Skype with their hands free, and not their headsets, speaking in a loud annoying voice, effectively letting the entire office their invoices, allocations, entry, in short the whole office knows what they are doing. No amount of request, warning, annoying glances, and even posters (in all language) would pipe them down. They give you a stare, totally offended by you. If you think you had it bad, the poor people, who had the unfortunate fortune of sitting around him, seem to give out a distress call, a plea, koi hume iss moron say bachao.

If he wasn’t enough, you have the jaga maga (as we like to refer to them) who insist on gossiping in their shrill cranky voices about everything under the sun, right from their children’s studies, their sasoo maas, the latest recipes, or how to improve upon a recipe, latest designs, the latest salwar suits they stitched. In short sharing information you shouldn’t be privy of, you really don’t want to be part of but still you’ve got no option but to listen cause they can effectively drown out a crowd. 

Then you have those who call you up enquiring about a marathon when it’s just a training run. Even though they are disappointed to learn that there’s no prize, they still enquire if there will be bibs, medals and tees and how would this would be done. All this needs to be done in Hindi which this poor maca pav can’t speak to save his life. Makes you want to bang your head against the wall,  cause let’s face it, to make sense, ye un say na ho payenga.

They’ll come to the park in the cars and two wheeler ( and I say two wheelers I am not referring to cyclists, who would in fact we welcome). But the come and drive in speed, almost knocking poor souls who are out to train or just there for their morning walks. In fact they themselves could with a bit of walking, if they would just get their fat, lazy arse to move.

And on a dating app, where you clearly mentioned no nudes and privates on your profile, you still have those who will send you just that, asking for your bare chest pics, nude pics, dick pics, butt pics. Damn when did likes and preferences turned into something sexual (or am I just being dumb naive). So often you’ve got to pimp your self to morons. But hey there’s enough material on this for another blog. 

Then you have those who think their horns are the most melodious sound you’ll ever hear in the whole world. The bad part of it is they’ll never keep it to themselves. This probably the only time when sharing  didn’t mean caring. So they’ll blare their horns for all to hear, till ears to bleed.

And these are just the tip of the iceberg, and it was the iceberg that sunk the Titanic (and I have no idea why I used that out here). You could fit them all in one big universe, making a universe all their own, moronasia. Maybe then we’ll be saved from the moronic affliction.

.. Let’s Start a Conversation: Bringing about Change

In order to create a safe, inclusive, open and tolerant working environment, the place where I work has come up with a program called OUTFRONT for the LGBTQIA community (i.e. Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transexual, Queer, Intrasexual, Asexual, for the uninitiated) providing a platform to express them openly, be themselves, fostering a tolerant and safe working environment. Recently we received a mail informing us about including same-sex couples and their partner under the insurance cover, including Gender Reassignment surgery.

Now these are steps in the right direction, positive step. It feels good to see the organisation taking the lead, one of the few times I’m actually proud of being part of it, ok the only time I’ve actually felt good of being part of the company. These little steps go a long way to foster an environment where people are allowed to be themselves, who they are, be their creative self, not live in a closet, to start a conversation, to foster openness.

Let’s face it, no one chooses to be gay or queer or transgender, overnight, it’s not something one decide like hey let me be gay from tomorrow and see how it is. As the Mother Monster says “Baby we were born this way”. With so many men and women hiding in the closet, refusing to come out, afraid of the persecution, and ostracisation, the emotional trauma and the emotional blackmail, now who would want that, kaun khud ke pair par khulade marenga? It takes great courage, guts, strength and resolve, to come out to the world, to be prepared to face the scorn, backlash and the trauma and have very little support.

Steps like these go a long way in starting a conversation, if not eliciting an overnight change. Cause let’s face it we still have a long way to go. These conversations help bringing out of the closet and into the open what would otherwise be swept under the rug, would be treated as something that shouldn’t be spoken about, something that should be discussed, shouldn’t even be there in the first place, a taboo. They help make people comfortable, normalising life. What they want is to be seen as equals, to be treated normally like everyone else, not someone with a disease or a weird person. To love who they choose to love, to live the life they want to life, to be authentic to themselves. For this they would want an acceptance from their family and friends first and then society at large. Many a unhappy marriage (Indian) are because of parental pressure, societal pressure, cause families and society will not accept these people and their relationship, families who are ashamed of what their children are, fearing gossip, ostracism from their social circle and religion.

We have changed our attitude and treatment towards untouchability (unless you’re one of those who like to continue to benefit from it) then why not change it to the LGBTQIA community? They don’t want special treatment or privileges or reservations, cause that would create an unequal world which is not the goal. All is asked is an acceptance, to be treated normally as you would with the next person, to be seen as an equal and not as a deceased abomination in the world.

We elicit change from the stories we tell, the examples we set. It’s time we keep an open mind and be accepting of all, to hear what everyone one has to say, to keep the conversation alive.

The Story of Our Lives

There’s a story in each of our lives, 

and every story matters. 

Every story needs to be heard, 

needs to be understood, 

needs to be told. 

No story is greater than the other. 

No two stories are the same. 

No two stories would ever be alike

Even though we may try 

Every story is unique 

And has its own narrative

Cause no two people live the same life

Though they may aspire 

To be like each other 

But end up tweaking, unknowingly 

Cause they don’t go through life 

the same way

No two people have the same experience 

Cause lightening doesn’t always 

Strike the same place twice 

So going through the same thing

Would really need the stars to align 

If that was ever possible

Though our lives may seem mundane

And we may not gone through

Any earth shattering change

Or any transformation 

But that doesn’t make our stories

Any less interesting 

We write our stories 

through our experiences 

Through the choices we make

Through the decisions we take 

At times closing one chapter 

To begin a new one 

No matter how painful it may have been

How difficult it may be to say goodbye

To close the chapter 

And start a new one

We may feel our stories ain’t inspirational 

But what we don’t know

Our lives become Hope 

For those who need it the most

and yes we learn from the mistake 

That others make

And sometimes from the ones we make

Though we may never ever realise it 

So in the end we all have a story tell

So let your story be heard

But remember one thing

The narrative we write in in our hand 

So make your story an interesting one

I’ve go the Music in ME

As I listen to my music 

I get lost in it

I Want to dance right there

Not bothering anyone would care

Cause I really don’t 

I want to walk in step with the beat

Strutting my stuff down the street

If I had the stuff to strut 

Strutting like a peacock would

I want to walk to the beat

Little hop, a little skip

One step, two steps

A quick step a shuffle

To put the cares of the day behind me

Cause the music does that to me

The rhythm flows like a current in me

I jut want to sway and hum

Sing every word 

Not just mime it

I don’t care what other think

Or say that I croak

I want to be lost in the music

Forget all my cares

Live the words

Live every beat

I just want sway and twirl

A right turn, a left turn

A rounde and a cha cha 

If I ever knew how to do it

Want to move like a Latin dancer

Cause baby these hips don’t lie

And I know have rhythm 

And no two left feet

Definitely not like a stripper

But not really bad at it

I want to kick and flicks

To jive like a crazy fool

Do the Charleston 

Do the Carlton 

To waltz through the day

But never really smooth

I want to trot like the fox

And jitter like a bug

This boy wants to have some fun

People may think of me weird

And those who happen to see me

May take me to be a fool

But they don’t know 

They may never feel

The joy that I feel

The joy that music brings

The joy that dance brings

I don’t really need to know the steps 

Cause I’ve got the music in me 

And rhythm in my soul

Tinker-Tailor, Sailor-Runner

He knew that he would be a sailor, from a very early part of his life. They said he had sailing in his blood, salt in his vein. He knew he would be a sailor long before he could walk, let alone talk. He could talk sailing, he could walk sailing, he could laugh sailing, live, eat and breathe sailing. Sailing was all he ever wanted to do, a sailor he was meant to be. He was naturally drawn to the sea. He longed for it, like the deserts missed the rains. And in the end that was what he was destined to become, what he became, a sailor.

But things were about to change, take a new turn. No he wasn’t going to ditch sailing, he was just about to add a new dimension to his life. She came into his life, and with her she introduced him to the world of running. They couldn’t be more different from each other, like chalk and cheese. But she brought running into his world. She was a popular runner, socially very active, well known on the marathon running circuit. She clicked selfies as much as she was asked to be part of it, or even participated in races (or even more). She regularly ran races and was constantly asked to be face of races.

He on the other hand had no social media presence, was not on social media, had no inclination to be on it, apart from his phones messenger through which he managed to keep in touch with those he needed to be in touch with. He had no intention of coming on board. But what he did take from her was a love for running.

Being a sailor, he already had the physicality down to a pat. He was physically conditioned to running and worked to strengthen himself. He was a more practical person, he liked to read up, apply and improve, rather than going out there and just race. He preferred having a scientific knowledge, doing it the right way and using the correct from. He liked reading and getting to understand the science behind a method, before he applied it, he wanted understand the nitty-gritty, every aspect of running, and when he applied it, he did it with unwavering discipline and focus. He discovered being at sea didn’t stop him from training. All he needed was a treadmill, he could even use the deck of the ship to run laps. Being on the ship also gave him access to the best running gears, when his ship made port.

Over the course of time he gathered quite a vast amount of knowledge from all his reading and experience, that he was more than willing to share, to discuss and debate on it, to guide others. He didn’t keep this knowledge to himself. He was more than willing to share as much as he gained. He couldn’t match her popularity but for those who knew him, loved him and respected him. He was more than willing to help those who needed it, to support those who needed the support. Like a sponge he absorbed the knowledge, the experience that were to be gained from those around him and he put it to good use. He gave without a second thought. 

He continued to train, adding a new aspect to training, barefoot running, running the way humans were meant to run, discovering his capability, finding out how much he could push himself, learning about himself and running, improving his running and with him helping others. Becoming a running soul, supplementing the salt in his veins, adding another dimension in his life, another layer, becoming a Sailor-Runner.