As The Dream Ends…

(This was a poem I wrote a while ago… thought I would share it here)

In that moment just as I awaken
Neither a dream nor a reality
You are there like you were never gone
More real than you ever were
More painful than I care to remember

You smile like you did
To make me feel it was all good
My heart yearns in response
Even as my brain hurries to awaken
To tell me you are not real
And perhaps you never were

You take me back to the places we were
As my dreams rush to fill in the moonlight
The silence your voice bought
And reality has nothing to say
Against the hope of that beautiful dream

It is but a moment
As I come into the reality
Smiling about us

Only to realise in another moment
It was all nothing but a dream
And my heart begins to weep all over again
For the dances we never had
For the things we never said
For the things we never heard
For all the things you didn’t say to make me stay


Advertisements

The Concept of Love

When you think of two people being in love, it is usually the image of a pretty girl, a cute guy and lots of pretty stuff around. Advertising and stereotyping has entered our sub-conscious.

Somehow, all the love marriages and the people love images were associated with cool couples. The Deepika-Ranbir, Bipasha-John kind of people rather than the more demure… Nandita Das and whoever she is married to. Even Das is easy to imagine as a celebrity but the normal people… your neighbour with the frizzy hair and the bad teeth, the short guy who you see in the elevator everyday, the woman who’s incredibly huge… you never think of those people in “love”.

My mind (yes, i feel really shallow) somehow assumes that they will eventually get married to someone their parents pick and because tradition requires it. I’m sure they have crushes and stuff but I never think of them as being in a “relationship”.

Recently, a friend of mine posted pictures of her honeymoon on Facebook (where else!). They were in rather gorgeous places and most of them with her and her husband hugging each other and looking at the camera. There was a subtle shift in me – one, because I had never known this friend to be physically demonstrative with anyone. Two… it was just bizzare.

You take someone who has been very reserved, not the sort who talks much to guys, the sort of person who wouldn’t even hug a friend goodbye… and you try to picture them cuddling with a guy – the brain sort of fries.

But there they are, in the gorgeous backdrop of Nepal or wherever, hugging each other and smiling blissfully in the camera, happily in love (touch wood!). She isn’t the sort who would wear the sleek and sexy clothes, the perfect hair and the great pair of sunshades… yet, when I see them in the resort with a bunch of other people like that, they fit.

Why do we have such stereotypical ideas of love and couples in our head? A relationship is with anyone that you connect with, which is hard enough.

This brings me to the movie “Honeymoon Travels” which completely ripped apart the concept of a honeymoon, as well as what a couple should be.

You had Ameesha Patel as the typical bubbly, over-dressed, talkative Punjabi, with a similar guy. The sort you don’t particularly associate with a love marriage. You had the posh couple of Sandhya Mridul and the guy – the sort you have the image in your head – but who turn out to be a complete dud. And the KK-Sen couple who fall somewhere in between. And the classic Shabana Azmi-Boman Irani pair – the people who fall in love in their 60s.

And they are all on a “package” as opposed to my classic idea of honeymoon where you are alone with your guy.

There really isn’t a point to this post I guess. I’m just trying to understand why we have these stereotypes in our mind. And it works the other way as well. Sometimes people just assume that the well-heeled girl is on a date or with her boyfriend when she’s with a guy and being friendly. She is supposed to be ‘fast’ and ‘modern’ hence she dates. Nobody thinks she is in love either. She is expected to be at the other end of the spectrum, without a heart, without feelings and just because she is also physically involved with the guy, it is assumed that is all she wants. Of course, this rarely applies to the hunk (hypocrites again!)

But it is still accepted that she is dating as opposed to a girl with bad hair and in a salwar. She is dating too… but the clothes make the perception and the reaction all too different.

Link of the day: Little People: A Tiny Street Art Project

The Dream Wedding

When I walked into the hotel room, I simply knew that I had never ever lived in such a glorious room ever. Me and my two friends grinned like idiots at each other and started to explore every single inch. It was sheer luxury and I have lived in a few opulent ones in my life.

That was the theme of the wedding – beautifully luxurious.

And perhaps this wasn’t the way I had imagined my best friend getting married – if I had ever gotten around to imagine him getting married at all – but it strangely fit. It was a dream wedding.

I didn’t step out of the hotel for two whole days (having skipped one little day to see Mumbai – read about it here) and I never realised that time could fly so fast and every minute be so beautiful. There was a stage for performers, a waterfall, names being reflected on the ceiling, over 1000 people, music, lots of food and drink, a little moon with a garden theme where the couple stood to invite guests, dancing, singing and more booze.

I met new, fascinating people and simply floated along the dream.

The wedding itself was even more gorgeous… with a royal theme, performers dancing for a loud, Indian royal song around the altar, the bride in her palanquinn and the groom on the horse… it perhaps struck me the most for the first time when I had to dance in the baraat. I had never danced in anybody’s baraaat… i was either too shy or not bothered. And then I heard the trumpets and it hit me – my best friend was now a married man. I still don’t see him that way… I’ve seen them together and they are absolutely together and not the whole ‘married’ bit, which is a little too corny. But amidst all the songs, the fight for the shoes and music – he was married. He was a ‘grown up’. Lol.

I realised I can never really say all that I felt or did here… it is too long and too boring for other people. But for the first time since a long time I liked everyone I met, I had fun with everyone I met and I really miss everyone, including the gorgeous city of Mumbai.

One little funny thing though… being a part of the groom’s entourage means running around doing some tasks. So we had to get the dhoti ironed, with about 5 minutes to spare for the ritual. We raced to get it done and couldn’t really wait for the elevator which does tend to take its own sweet time even in a 5-star hotel. And we had to race back and I thought the elevator opened. Of course it did open and there was the hotel staff who said something. My friend was a lot ahead… guys with their nice, flat shoes… but I thought someone called out to me, so I turned. Without stopping. So when I turned back, my head, face, knees met the glass door.

I bounced to the floor wondering what hit me (never really understood what that term meant before). My head throbbed and the camera in my hand was switched on accidentally. And the camera had a start up tone of little birds chirping. Yup. Go ahead laugh. My friend who had already raced one floor up could hear the thud. Oh well… I lived. With a bump on my head, black and blue knees and a slightly sore jaw.

The knee made itself felt only much much later when I was back home, exhausted from being up for 24 hours straight. Didn’t realise I was up so long… there was so much to do, dance and drink… but then I saw my bed, dropped by bags and crawled into it in my dirty travel clothes. Apparently, my voice hasn’t recovered yet and still sounds asleep – which some say is sexy and some say is kiddish.

My head still reels with the memories, the laughter, the conversation, the late night walks which didn’t feel like late night walks and this one guy I met.

Yup… have a crush again. Sigh. I hate feeling like this about someone I met once, probably will never meet again and I’ve no idea what he thought of me either. I build castles and have it crash. Ugh. Falling in love is such a bitch even if it does happen. Crushes are so over after the age of 20, particularly if the only tingles you get is in your head.

Anyway, Salaam Bombay

Song of the Day: Complicated – Avril

Semi-Dark Room…

Sitting in a semi-dark room, wondering why I can’t do any of those things I want to do. I just woke up, so tiredness cannot be an excuse. It isn’t laziness either because I dusted that off a while ago.

But I can feel the slight irritation creeping up again. It is minute but it is there and it is crawling up and the fact that it is there is more annoying than anything else.

Several friends are getting married. And when i say “friends” i really do mean friends. Not someone whom I like and consider a pal. These are 4 AM people. And it surprises me how okay I am with all of that. I made my peace with my relationship status a little while ago. I realised when I say “I like being single,” I really do mean it. I have slight issues with commitment – the top one being that there are all these things I want to do and somehow it seems to be in a slightly different path than the ‘couple’ bit. Of course, in the meantime while I’m finding out what i want to do, if i find someone who is like me – i’m not that commitment phobic 🙂

I realised something late last night – Falling in love is not in your hands but what you do about it definitely is.

Which is why some people end up getting married, some break up and become morons.

I feel a lot lighter with these realizations. I am trying to find dresses for friends’ weddings now. I guess I have to add to my wardrobe now, considering my reluctance to wear saris. They just are not comfortable. And considering I’d attend on average 2 events a year, my wardrobe was suitably filled. Now, I guess once the engagements are over, there are weddings. Then there are kids born and ceremonies for them and so on.

Except right when it is time to go shopping, i’m broke. and my mom refuses to lend me any more money.