The Acceptance Conundrum

“Acceptance”... on the face it... may seem like such a simple and ordinary word... but is a word that carry so much weightage. It’s something that we all crave for, something that we all want, but that’s difficult to come by. To love someone is to accept them for who they are, their flaws and their imperfections, their shortcomings, accepting them completely, loving the good and the not so good things about them.

But acceptance is such a difficult pill to swallow, something so difficult to do. So many struggle to find it, leaving them broken and damaged and fragile. Society doesn’t accept you when you fail to conform to societal norms. So you find yourself living at the fringe of society, an outcast, treated like a pariah, all because who we are is not what they want us to be, we don’t fit into their predefined conditions, we don’t follow their rules. So they box us and label us, treat us differently, call us names. And strangely, the boxes we find ourselves in, don’t really accept us if we don’t fit in their norms. So that leaves us hanging in limbo, in the twilight zone.

Parents find it difficult when their children don’t turn out to be what they want them to be, when their offspring chooses to walk down a different road and not the one they set for them. Often getting distraught, bordering the dramatic, wondering what wrong did they do, what sin did they commit to find themselves in such a predicament, effectively emotionally blackmailing their way, beating their children into submission, and in the end having it their way. Never realising they are a cause of many broken humans, many a broken homes, many a failed marriages, all because they thought they knew what’s best. Why can’t they act as guides, helping their children find their own way, pave their own path, be there to support them, to pick them when they fall, nudge them gently down the right path (and not pushing them down the path they perceive as right). Acceptance may not be an easy thing to do but then there’s always bonus points for making an effort.

But in the end, whether it’s society, or our parents, or even friends and the ones we love, the main culprit is us, the entire acceptance conundrum originates from us. So often we find it difficult to accept ourselves for who we are, hiding behind masks, a false pretence, letting others dictate our lives and who we become. We search for a normal never truly realising that we are normal, we have the strength and capability to work towards it. We shackle ourselves to an idea or normalcy, and hope for it, but then what is normal anyway in a world that’s so abnormally normal. We struggle to accept our needs, our wants, our desires, often being ashamed of our feelings, guilty of desires, taking us down a spiral of low self-esteem. We struggle to accept ourselves for who we are, who we are meant to be, what we feel, often leading to low self-esteem, a need to be accepted according to someone else’s norms. Often leading us to banish ourselves to the fringe of society, an outcast, but no rebel.

So in the end it all boils down to a self-acceptance, learning to accept ourselves for who we are. Learning to accept yourself is the first and the most important step, cause then the acceptance of anyone else wouldn’t really matter. Cause when you accept yourself, you learn to love yourself, and it’s only when you love yourself would you be able to love anyone else. 

.. and sometimes the Road wins

.. there are days when the road wins. Will this is the case most of the time rather than sometimes. But then that’s the way of a runner, conquer or be conquered, but keep that Josh high (so how’s the josh???) take each run as they come, trying to constantly remind yourself, baba this is off-season Training, so stop fucking grumbling about your pace, stop fretting about your sppppppeeeeeeeddddd!!!

So you drag your carcass out of bed, gulp down your coffee (black, no sugar), and pray to the weather gods, to the old gods and the new, the gods with many faces, the drowned gods, to show mercy, not make you bend your knee. But then they seem to be having none of it, and are hell bent to make your run tough. Any moment  you feel like you’re going to hear a loud cry “Dacarays”, and all the would be left of you would be a pile of ashes from dragon fire, aka poor Lord Varis (RIP). But then the sun and summer are doing such a banged up job, so there’s no need for Dragons and Dragon Queens. Damn looks like I have a bad case of GoT hangover and I still haven’t seen the last episode.

So you run in the heat, grumbling, grudgingly, trying your best to keep up with your buddy who seems to have awesome stamina (damn don’t tell her I said that, but shit she’ll read this). You two busy chatter away of runs and races, as the third stooge isn’t there to shush us, and grumble how much you two jabber.

So you run, and you run, and you continue to run, chattering away but then there’s a different story going on inside your head, inside you, where every part of body grumbles and complains, threatening to revolt, threatening mutiny, after all what did they do to deserve being tortured in the heat of summer. But still you continue to run, not wanting to bruise your ego (not just your toxic masculinity), not that it is bloated, just that you don’t want to be the one to give up. So you trudge on, till you finally have no other option but to walk. Till then you are drenched in your own sweat, looking like you’ve just stepped out of the shower with your runnings clothes on, or as if you just peed in your pants. But you are grateful you can walk even if you have to limp.

Now since our socially unfriendly Dyloooo started his run early, we make the most of his absence and just lighten up and be the social butterfly that we are. So in the end you have a good 18 under your belt, which you mar mar ke did. Today the road May have but not today, oops I mean not again, cause the Rodman remembers.

A Feast for the Senses

Your nose knows when you’ve reached your destination, and your tongue begins to water, as if on cue. It’s a feast for your senses and you get all caught up in it, all intoxicated by just whiff of whats coming your way.

Your eyes water from all the smoke, or may be it’s just tears of happiness seeing all the food that’s making your stomach to rumble and your tongue to salivate, it’s like you are in food heaven (well if your non-vegetarian, the vegetarians can stick to the sweet meat). It like your eyes and tongue are having a competition with each other with regard to whom can shed the most liquid. Your sensory seem to be working over time as your eyes Feast on the sights of rows of malai chicken, chicken tikkas, hara bara kebabs, tandoori chickens, causing your mouth to water, leaving you wondering ab main kya kaho?

The stacks of pherni, white and yellow, another idli like delicacy (who’s name I don’t know) satiates your sweet tooth, and serve for does who don’t have a stomach for the street spread that’s there, for the vegetarian. Not to leave out the those deliciously tempting maalpoa, floating in the oil (this is no place for the figure conscious, the health conscious), like little yellow splosh, sizzling as it fried in deep oil as you try to get it all on camera, trying not to drool over it. 

So its your diet out of the window, forgotten for the day. It’s time to enjoy yourself, and savour what’s laid in front of you, let your senses Feast. So it’s Feast now, fret later. Don’t you worry you’ll find a way to loose those inches, kilos you piled on.

It’s a literal melting pot. People busy preparing the delicacies over the coal, over chulas, sweating out on a hot summer’s evening and over their grills. And the people sweating from all the heat and the smoke but not bothering about it at all just enjoying their food. It’s a melting pot of people from all walks of life, from all strata of society, melding together, being fused together. More than people opening their roza, you have people of every religion, people of every age, office goers, college kids, school kids, grandmothers, housewives, all together in one place. Busy trying to capture every moment, every delicacy, every selfie. Thankfully the street ain’t too crowded today.

People busy munching away, people savouring every dish, people buying, haggling, clicking photos and selfies, beggars tugging at your clothes begging for cash to spare, or food to share. Everywhere you are people taking I the food and experience. So when you leave you leave with a belly full with good food and head filled with good memories, which is indeed a Feast for the senses.

Summer’s in the Park... Runner’s Diaries

When most of the city has retreated to cooler climates, exotic locales, beaches,  we fools take to the park to continue with our off-season training. And it seems like the park is happy to see us, tired from all the  cannodling couples, lukka kids with their cameras and selfies, and many morons who get their vehicles and come to the park (talk about the irony). Nature has laid down a carpet of yellow to welcome you.

The trees are In full bloom with their , yellow, orange, pinks, purples and white, the colours of summer, making the park bursting with a riot of colours. Not to forget the runners and walkers have their own colourful attire.

As you run, there’s a cool breeze in the air that lightly caresses your face, keeping you cool from the harshness of the weather outside, from the highway that passes outside the park. And further you get from the concrete jungle, and into nature, the cooler the weather, the fresher the air, except when you come to Kanheri when you once again feel the heat, not just of the weather but of the climb also. So you have some hot patches (not because of a hot runner Running there), and the challenge of the slope.

The trees in all their colourful glory, though some stripped off and standing there bare, naked and brown, lining up the road, often overarching it, promising to protect you from the harshness of the sun, keeping it nice cool, for summer. 

The cloudy skies too seem to be doing their bit, trying it’s best to dilute the harshness of the season trying its best not to heat the weather. But the great and mighty sun would have none of it, peeping through the clouds, bursting through the trees. But the Sun’s intention is not to make you cower before it, or bring you to your knees, but to show you what stuff you are made off, to make you stronger and fitter, more resilient, as you face more adverse conditions like the hot and humid condition of mumbai weather. 

So as you go, you listen to the sounds of nature, the music that it has prepared for you, the gentle rhythm, the blended harmonies, of the breeze, rustling through the leaves, the chirping of the birds and the crickets, nature’s very own music, the soundtrack for your run, so often drowning out your chatter.

So you try to keep up with the chatter and the pace, trying to weather the heat of summer, the rolling terrain, while navigating the slopes, as primates blankly stare your way, wondering what these humans are upto, torturing themselves in the summer heat. You’re glad for the light breeze on your face, as much as you are for the company, for the colours that burst through the foliage, hiding away the concrete you left behind. The only concrete you see is the one beneath your feet.

So no matter how the weather maybe outside, the weather inside will be pleasant, albeit a bit challenging as the morning wears on. But no matter the weather, the park will always the place to be, to hideaway from the summer’s heat, to escape the air that’s been polluted, from the concrete jungle, into the arms of nature and all the challenges it has to offer. So come the weekend, come summer (or any weather, or climate), you’ll find this boy, and his friends, running, chirping and chattering away, in the park.

What are you looking for???... Life on the app

They: So what are you looking for???

Me: Errr... next question please!!!

Questions you squirm to answer, questions you dread to answer, questions you would rather avoid (if you don’t really know the answer), but something that you’ll always be asked. That’s life on an app.

When you find yourself on a dating app, this is the one question you can never avoid. You can try to run away from it but cannot hide from it. At some point in time you’ll be asked about it. Like an interview question you’ll find yourself answering it. You’ll need to find the answer to it.

And there’s nothing wrong with the question, after all they just want to know your intention is and if it matches what they are looking for. But then let’s face it, everyone on the app wants be laid or get laid, someway or the other,  whether they agree or not, or choose to deny it or say otherwise. So whether you’re looking for a relationship, or even coffee and conversations, everything leads to the bed, to fuck and be fucked (to put it a bit bluntly), after all we are human, and urges and desires are a part of who we are, a need for a physical touch, a physical presence, an emotion. 

So there’s nothing wrong with desiring it outrightly mentioning it. Even if you go with the flow, all roads on the app leads to sex, or to put it mildly, getting physical. So get off your high horse and learn to spell out what you are looking for.

As for me, if I were to be asked it for the nth time, I am gonna quip, well I am looking for a million dollar, or may be billions, maybe a penthouse, designer clothes and luxuries, do you know anyone who could enable it 😉.

Vienna waits for you...

Wake up you crazy boy

You’ve been thinking

Way ahead of your time

If only you could only learn

How to slow down,

You’ve got to slow down 

Things never turn out 

The way you want them to be 

They may not happen 

The way you thought they would be

When would you change 

your overthinking ways 

When would you realise 

Vienna waits for you

What’s up you lonely boy

You loved and you lost 

Bruising your heart and soul

Too afraid to fall in love once more 

But still hoping to fall in love once more

It may not be entirely your fault

Though you seem to blame yourself a lot 

When would you realise 

You’re not alone to blame

When would you realise 

Vienna waits for you

Hey boy you’re a lonely soul

Afraid to grow old all alone

Not wanting to be caught 

in the rain all alone

Drenched to the bone

You hope to find love once again

But then hoping for a reset all over again

When would you learn 

to give love a chance

When would you realise 

Vienna waits for you

Hey you confused soul

You tried to meet others

But you pined for the old

You’re just not good at the dating game

Even when your tried to play the game

Though you tried to meet someone

Then you got ahead of yourself

And wondered if they were the one

You got to learn to slow down

And stop thinking ahead of yourself

When would you realise

Vienna waits for you

You’ve got your passion

You’ve got your pride 

You got to learn to be patient 

Make good use of your time

You got learn to take your time

You’ll be rewarded in time

Things don’t always happen in a snap 

So be patient don’t get caught in nap

Don’t let life pass you by

Or you’ll never know why

When would you realise

Vienna waits for you

You’ve got to learn to love

You’ve got to learn to trust 

You got to believe in yourself

And your ability to love

Love will find a way to you

When  would you realise 

Vienna waits for you

Unconditionally

Everything had to be perfect, everything had to be the way he liked it, not necessarily it was the way he wanted it, in fact he hated being fussed upon. But she was his mother and she wouldn’t have it any other way for him, other than the way he liked it.

He would be here at any moment, he phoned from the airport, the moment his plane landed, when he was able to switch on his phone, and then again when he completed with his customs check. His flight was on time and custom checks had been smooth, so be would be here soon.

She was giddy with excitement, giddy with anticipation. There was so much to do, and so little time, he would be here soon and she wanted everything to be perfect for him. She gotten his room cleaned, changed the sheets, the curtains, et.al. Fresh new sheets had been laid on his bed, the pillow cases changed and the pillows fluffed. She also draped the room with new curtains. She knew he was allergic to dust (after all she was his mother), so she had to have the room spic and span. Ah had spent the past few days ordering the servant, directing her, supervising her, ensuring everything was in place and ready.

She was preparing his favourite food, she could have the cook do it, but she wouldn’t have him eat food prepared by anyone else but her. God knows what he had been eating for all those years he had been living abroad. So she was pulling double duty, or was it triple, she lost count.

For the longest time it had between just the two them, ever since her husband’s passing. And now he had some news for her that he couldn’t wait to share with her but would do this in person. Now she was really excited at what he had to tell her, what news he bore. He had teased her for being old fashioned, for being technologically challenged. But she was comfortable that way.

She sensed him as his cab pulled into the driveway of their small little house. Call it a mother’s intuition, or some filmy effect. She hugged him tight and kissed him the moment she saw him. No matter how Big he may be, he would always be her baby. He had not come alone, a friend has come with him, a young handsome man who maybe a couple of years older than him. 

“Maa,” he said introducing his companion to her, “meet my partner Suraj”. She smiled and welcomed his friend, not really understanding what he had just told her. “Suraj and I have recently got engaged and would like to settle down together,” he said slowly, measuring each word he shared, trying to study her reaction.

For moment she was speechless, she didn’t know how to react. This was not what she had expected. She may have been old fashion, but her thinking wasn’t. If this was who he was, this was who he choose to be, whom he chose to be with, then so be with. If he was happy this way, she would be happy for him. She loved him no matter what, she loved him unconditionally. And this was a part of him and she accepted him, unconditionally.

She smiled and hugged his fiancé, kissing him on the forehead, like she would for her own, welcoming him into the family. She slapped her son for taking such a big decision and not telling her. All he could to do is hug her and burst into tears. She hugged him back, hugged him like she had hugged him the day he was born, tenderly and with love. She pulled her new son and hugged him too, one big hug, one big group hug, filled with love. This was her family.

She spent the rest of the day getting to know her new son and how they met, totally pampering him, dotting him. That day she may waited for one son, but got two in return.