March 23, 2008

Ideals and relationships

is something I noticed. Every time a person likes another of the opposite sex, (read likes as loves), that liking is based on an ideal. They have an ideal in their head and they mix and match and find the person is the closest to that ideal. The ideal can be in terms of looks, intelligence, emotions, et al. When a particular member of the opposite sex, accepts the initial advances and then rejects the entire thing, also known as a break-up, one has two choices, retain that ideal and at some level continue liking that person or change that ideal and get over that person. Strange is it not, how many people say that they are not able to get over somebody, when they actually mean that they are not able to get over the ideal that person meant to them. If only ideals were that easy to change!

March 21, 2008

Infidelity

Before I discuss what I plan to, let me start off with a small story. (Please excuse the length. Bear with me. The end will be worth it, I can promise you)

There lived a man sometime back. He was successful, happily married with a family that loved him as much as he loved them. They were in all senses the perfect family. He went to work, came back early to spend time with his family. The wife stayed at home and took care of the house. It was not something he forced on her. He had once told her that he was OK if she wanted to work. However, she chose to stay at home. She felt that being a full time wife and then a full time mother in itself was a job. She did not want to be one of those women who tried to balance her career and her family. She knew what was important to her and she was willing to do anything to make sure that it remained that way. She loved being at home when her son and daughter came back from school, loved talking to them about what happened that day, who they met, whom they liked and what was going on in their lives. It was not like that she did not give them their freedom. She was just involved with their lives. She especially loved when he came home from work. She mixed him his drink and they sat down in the veranda as the sun set, talking about random things until it was time to make dinner. Over all they had a good life.

Just like in the movies, I am going to bring in a twist. What is life without its twists and turns?

This man conceals a secret. Now please do not go about telling me that there is no person who does not conceal something or the other. However, I have always believed that in a relationship, especially one that has taken the form of marriage and has endured the test of time and begot two kids, the couple would have in most cases told every dark secret there is. Not because the spouse wants to know, but more because they want the other person to understand who they are and to accept them for all their deficiencies.

He had been in love once, with someone other than who was currently his wife. It was not that he did not love his wife. It was just the before marriage, he was in love with a woman. Again, this is something most men go through. I would rather go on to state that there are hardly a handful of men who have not loved someone before marriage. And there are some who have loved a handful before marriage. This was not the secret. This was the first thing that he told his wife when they were to get married. The secret was something that he was doing for the last fifteen years of marriage.

Everything he did, he sought his ex-lover's approval. It was not something that he did consciously. It just happened that everything he did, his thoughts automatically went to her.

For simplicity sake, I shall name the woman X.

He had not met X since the time they had broken up. In the last twenty years since the breakup, they had not even kept in touch. For all practical purposes, he did not know if she was alive or dead. And he was sure that she did not know of his existence either. He had moved on as she had. He was happy in marriage. But, as I said, everything he said he sought her approval. Every time he bought a something new, a shirt, a toy for his son, a dress for his daughter, the school he admitted his children in, the diamond ring he got his wife for their tenth anniversary, the house he got twelve years into marriage, everything he thought of her and what she would say.

He thought that he could hear her voice, “Very nice; expensive but nice. Do you need to get something that expensive to thank her for staying with you for ten years?” for the diamond ring. “You have to be kidding me. Why do you have to always go for black shirts? Do you not know that you look much better in white? It brings out your eyes?” Every act of his, he thought what her reaction would be.

As I said, he thought of her long after she was gone. He did not dare tell this to his wife and let us be honest, can you tell your spouse that you still think of the person who was once held in the same pedestal that you now hold your spouse? Does it not sound that you do not love your spouse and are still in love with that other one? Till his death, at the ripe old age, when his son was settled, as was his daughter and his wife had passed away, he thought of that woman who he loved for a brief period of time every single second of the day. It was her name that was on his lips when he breathed his last; not the name of the woman with whom he spent most of his life with, it was neither his mother or father, and it was neither of his children. It was X. With a smile on his lips and X on his breath he died.

The one thing I want to ask is this; does what he did throughout his life amount to infidelity? Was he unfaithful to his wife for more than fifty years that he spent with her? Was he ever disloyal? Is fidelity restricted to only the physical aspect of a relationship? Or does it surpass the mere physicality of the body and transcend into the mind? Does the thought of someone other than the woman or man you are with surmount to being infidel?

My views on this are already out in the world through my story “Betrayal”. For one who believes in the fact that even an extra marital affair does not amount to infidelity, the thought of another should not be an act of disloyal. However, being one who treasures the realm of thought, will the fact that my dearest is constantly in the thought of someone other than me not make me question the reason that person is with me? Single situation, two aspects, no decisions; just a thought.

March 2, 2008

Completely incomplete

We walk on,
A thousand path;
So many known faces,
All persons unknown.
Forever
In eternal search
For one who we hope
Completes the puzzle
We don't even know exists.
Searching for missing pieces
To complete
Something complete.

February 24, 2008

Choice of solitude and loneliness

I am not sure if I have dealt with this topic before, I have always thought about the difference between loneliness and solitude. Both mean nearly the same. Both imply a state of not being in the presence of other people. They both mean that one is alone, physically. Even though they mean almost the same, the key word almost gives them a subtle difference or so it seems.

As far as I understand the word, loneliness is when one is not in the presence of others as a compulsion. To mean, given a choice one will not choose to be alone. One would prefer to be in the company of others and therefore feel better to be a part of the group, a group, any group, as long they are not alone.

On the other hand, solitude is sought by someone. They do not want to be in the presence of others and given a choice, they would rather be by themselves.

There are some that talk about solitude in company, being that even when they are in the company of others, they are in solitude, as they do not let the others affect them. There are some on the other hand who talk about loneliness in a crowd, being that they are not able to identify with the company they are in and therefore they feel alone.

We have seen what people, according to me mean when they talk about solitude and loneliness. What I was wondering about, solitude is by choice and loneliness is something thrust upon you. However, what if one who sought after solitude was not given the chance of choosing that solitude? What if they were never invited to a party, they were left alone and not bothered about? This is likely to happen for after a couple of invites, which being turned down lead to the fact being established that this person will not come even if we invite them. Therefore, there is no point in inviting them. In this case solitude is thrust on them.

If the person seeking solitude in this case has a feeling of loneliness, then is the solitude actually that? Or is it just a show that they putting on for others? Can solitude be dependent upon the choice to be alone or not to be alone? Can it be that one can enjoy solitude only when they choose it and not when it is thrust upon them? My sense is no, for if they felt alone in absence of solitude and they needed the company to enjoy that solitude, then it is a farce, a blindfold that they have tied around themselves, a mask they are wearing to show the people around them that they are strong. However, that strength seems to desert them when they are alone, not by choice but by events. They feel lonely and alone. The mask stripped, they are but a shell of what they want to be.

Loneliness, solitude,
Is it a matter of choice?
If I choose, it is solitude,
If you do then loneliness?

February 20, 2008

Hidden

Hiding behind a veil
A veil of anonymity,
I say what I want to,
I say what I don’t want to.
Every word I utter,
Carries my imprint,
Distinctly mine,
Yet, distinctly unmine.
You know the words,
The voice,
You know not,
The face behind that voice.

My expression,
Never in your face,
Always behind
My veil,
My veil of anonymity,
Of deceit,
Lies and deception
Tales and fables,
Of lives and deaths
My expression
Hidden,
Behind words, unhidden.

February 13, 2008

a d-day called v-day!

I guess that some point in time people have a yearning for companionship. That is the only reason that I can think of which makes a man put up with a woman for the segment of life called marriage. Please do not mistake me; a woman too has to put up with a man for that period. It is “I scratch your back, you scratch mine”.

We will not deal with the need for companionship. What makes the 14th of February so special that people feel miserable if they are alone on this day? What makes showing material proof of love on this day so important? What makes the material behind the love in most cases more important than the love itself?

To take this one-step further, what makes a man spend eons of time, thinking about what to get for someone he loves, and why does he think of what will be the most, to use a cliché, heart touching gift possible? Why does a married man come and ask his unmarried friends what to get his new wife (please, she is his first wife!).

The one thing that I do not understand is the justification that it is one day and it is just an occasion to showcase your love. Well please consider this, why must my love be something that needs to be displayed in a showcase, literally? Why do I need one day to show a love that is supposed (supposed, taken for granted?) to be present everyday?


What made me not showcase that love everyday she was with me? Why do I need to wait for the day, the all pervasive, the all sentimental, the all too mushy Valentine’s Day? The short form for the day is V-day, reminding one of the famous D-Day. It has to be more than coincidence!!!

Add to this the hype created by the media and the makes of Archie’s and Hallmark greeting cards, the makers of all the soft toys, the people who sell roses on the road, I guess economically, they make all the money that they budget for a year on this one day. One can see only this on all news channels (I would not be surprised, for in our media, there is a news channel that flashed as breaking news: Amitabh Bachchan has caught a cold!), where to take that special one, what to gift that special someone, so on till infinity.

I have only one opinion on this matter. Valentine’s Day is just another day in the calendar. No different to the 13th and I expect 15th to be no different. If I love a girl, I will love her each and every day, not just on one day. I will not need an occasion to showcase my love. It will be on display every single minute because lets face it, she is taking a huge gamble by even thinking of being with me, let alone being with me.

On the eve of V-Day, read as D-Day, I sign off this post saying, “Love is not meant to be bottled in a single day; it is a year long affair. Make it so. Happy Valentine’s Years to all those couples out there”.

No rudder, no control

The night is dark,
Closing in on me,
Me, afloat,
On a river,
On a sea.
Which
I know not,
For all is calm,
I float on
Moving,
Yet still.

No rudder
To control the flow,
No control,
To say where to go.
Where the river ended,
And where the sea began,
Where the sea will end,
I will never know.
I float on,
On the river,
On the sea,

The sun rises,
Yet, offers no respite.
I can see
Where I go,
I saw where I was.
No matter how bright,
The sun shines,
No matter how warm
It makes me,
I still float,
No rudder,
No control,
I float
On the river,
On the sea.

February 11, 2008

Nila

Nila;
Her name simple,
As simple as she.
No wants in life,
She wanted life.
Company she sought,
In herself, she found.
She looked above,
At a sun, so bright.
Warmth, it gave her
From the cold inside,
It warmed her heart,
And left her cold.
She turned,
Giving a smile,
For the cold she treasured,
For the few in life.
You deserved a smile,
If you treated her right,
You were given the smile,
Her if you her be.
Her moods,
Along they ran, as
Every day, every night,
She showed the same face,
One seen, hiding
The one unseen.
Nila,
Happy she was,
Where she lain.
No questions asked,
Answers, she had
To everything, simple,
Nothing, she said.
She took a walk,
Ne’er return she did,
She lost her way,
Under the burning sun.
Happy, she still lain,
For being lost.
In that loss, she gained
Herself, her old self,
In a new self, she found.
Nila, she still lies,
The same way,
I found her that night.
No question asked,
A smile she gave,
Answered nothing,
Everything she said.
Nila, a smile,
A tear behind that smile.

The night of the scream

Every living breath,
Every unseen glance,
Every untold sentence,
Brings back that night,
The night of the scream.

My presence that night,
Illusionary, unknown.
My memory, hazy, unclear.
My ears, they still play
The never-ending scream.

When beauty,
It ceased existence,
Took up brutality,
Took up immortality,
Became true, became real.

The actions,
Yours and mine,
The words we never said,
Yet understood all the same,
Ending in that ear-piercing scream.

A reason to live,
Vindicated,
A reason to die,
Justified,
By that single scream.

The night, it passed,
As a living tribute.
Two people,
Together by fate,
Apart by choice.

Every breath of death,
Everything I see,
Every sentence heard,
Takes me back to the night,
The night of our scream.

January 15, 2008

Pulling me away

A new scent,
A whiff
Of something new
Some thing virgin
Some thing
Undefined.

A blank slate,
Unfettered,
Unexploited,
Unknown,
Unseen,
And undone.

A new beginning,
Wishes,
Horses,
And beggars.
Potential,
Portrayed.

A sight,
Un-beheld
Cooing for the eyes
Cooling the brain
Cooling a life
To hot to live.

A whiff
Of something
Something exciting
Pulling me
Away
Pulling me away.

15th January 2008