Everyday I want to fly, stay by my side
Everyday I want to dream, stay by my side
Every morning I wish I could just play
Wish the mornings would just stay...
I am in love...with the song, the little girl and of course the pug.
"We are all visitors to this time, this place. We are just passing through. Our purpose here is to observe, to grow, to love . . . and then we return home" - Aborigine
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
if you like the company you keep in the empty moments
Ganju had given this poem to me ages back. It has been coming back to me off and on since the last few days. so today I dug it out from wherever it was stored among the other bits & bytes. I don't think I have read a better poem as far as putting things in perspective is concerned. So putting it up here for anybody who ends up here and cares to read it. I don't even know who wrote it.
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your sorrows, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from the fear of pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.
I want to know if you can see the beauty even when it is not pretty every day, and if you can source your life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you will stand at the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself, and if you like the company you keep in the empty moments.
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your sorrows, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from the fear of pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.
I want to know if you can see the beauty even when it is not pretty every day, and if you can source your life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you will stand at the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself, and if you like the company you keep in the empty moments.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Learning
Another small delay today. What we were hoping for is on the tentative now. It is never easy once the ball is out of your court and you have to depend on other factors for things to happen, move, work... Running a start up has made me realise there is no end to patience and perseverance. There is no such thing as I have been patient enough or I have done enough. Continuous, relentless efforts are all that matters. Simple wisdom! I am thankful for learning it now.
Friday, April 04, 2008
Who's Who?
So we are not as unique as we would like to think. Has anybody noticed the similarities between Kareena Kapoor (KK) and Paris Hilton (PH)? They look so same they could pass off for twins. Bhalla thinks they must be split soul, one born as KK and another as PH. I must say one smart soul, enjoying both lives.
Come to think of it, there must be everybody's look alike somewhere. When I was a kid of about 15-16 years, there was this grocery shop in our locality from where I shopped for groceries. Every time I went to this shop the guys working there would get really excited and would whisper among themselves. This went on a few times, each time they would call someone new from inside, look at me and whisper. Thankfully after a couple of visits I found the reason for all this excitement and whispering. The old man who owned the shop told me he had a daughter approx my age who looked "hoobahoo" like me and lived in Lucknow. Thats why everybody in the shop was happy to see me.
The moment I saw the connection and realised I was the source of a lot of happiness for the man, my mind started screaming DISCOUNT! DISCOUNT! But I think the man's antennae were out of warranty, they did not catch the signal my brain was sending. So I ended with no discount and a memory to surface every time I saw KK and PH pictures splashed in the papers. What must life be like for my lookalike? Married? Kids? A conventional life in conventional Lucknow? How different from the humble one's life who is just about managing to keep herself above the poverty line?
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Passive Smoker in Making with designs on Saif Ali Khan
A day before Holi I was invited by an acquaintance to join him and his friends in some disc in Bandra. From where I stay I will reach Pune faster than Bandra. But he kept insisting that I come for once. So I had to tell him that am not acting like a social discard to earn more footage, its just that I can't handle cigarette smoke. To which I was told that in such places one should become an active smoker. I don't see a point in paying for something that I get for free.
The last time I subjected myself to passive smoking, I ended up with throat infection which took close to 2 months to go away. This guy on the next table at Mocambo was smoking as if cigarettes were going out of fashion. I could have changed my seat, but where could I go. I would still be on this earth. It's not that easy to avoid them smokers. The food was so delicious that only at the end of the meal I realised I was croaking like a frog and it felt like a nano bomb (my own creation) had exploded inside my throat.
Last Sunday I had to meet someone on beejness. So here we went, Rascal and I, to Barista. Our contact had just recuperated from fever so he couldn't handle the AC inside and we ended up sitting outside, among the liberated, whose lives purpose is to smoke it away in glory. Looks like my immune system has seen a spike lately. No throat infection this time, am only croaking a lil bit and it doesn't seem in a hurry to get better. Another few days and I will get used to the phata hua awaaz.
Rascal came up with a brilliant solution for this problem. I should join Ogie during his daily smoking sojourns. But that will give me very limited exposure, so I am thinking of inviting tenders from hot men, a la Saif Ali Khan in Race, who smoke. Wait! If I remember correct, he did not smoke in the movie. Perfect!
The last time I subjected myself to passive smoking, I ended up with throat infection which took close to 2 months to go away. This guy on the next table at Mocambo was smoking as if cigarettes were going out of fashion. I could have changed my seat, but where could I go. I would still be on this earth. It's not that easy to avoid them smokers. The food was so delicious that only at the end of the meal I realised I was croaking like a frog and it felt like a nano bomb (my own creation) had exploded inside my throat.
Last Sunday I had to meet someone on beejness. So here we went, Rascal and I, to Barista. Our contact had just recuperated from fever so he couldn't handle the AC inside and we ended up sitting outside, among the liberated, whose lives purpose is to smoke it away in glory. Looks like my immune system has seen a spike lately. No throat infection this time, am only croaking a lil bit and it doesn't seem in a hurry to get better. Another few days and I will get used to the phata hua awaaz.
Rascal came up with a brilliant solution for this problem. I should join Ogie during his daily smoking sojourns. But that will give me very limited exposure, so I am thinking of inviting tenders from hot men, a la Saif Ali Khan in Race, who smoke. Wait! If I remember correct, he did not smoke in the movie. Perfect!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)