Misguided Ghosts

In the spirit of Halloween, I sat down with Kay to watch a spooky movie. We made our favorite hot chocolate and warmed ourselves with the old red comforter that smelled of college days, cinnamon and candle smoke. Like everyone else this weekend, I played my part for Halloween: I spooked myself out, wore something funky, carved a pumpkin and thought about ghosts and spirits and wondered if any existed around me or what would I do if I ever came across any, and it led me to question if I even believe in Ghosts.

That's the keyword here: believe. Do I believe? If so, how much?

In the increasingly skeptical society that we are living in, I still think people believe. People believe but they do not take responsibility for their beliefs. They create amazing wonders from their imagination but they do not trust their creations. We fill our darkness - our voids - with ghost, with gods, with science, with tales. We imagine, we believe; but we do not trust. We are all but misguided ghosts, just roaming around with a lot of beliefs but no convictions, with so much confidence but no faith.  

[Another interpretation HERE]

Soul mates

The Greeks had a very logical reason for the existence of a soul mate. They believed that humans initially had two heads, four arms and four legs. They were then cut into half as a consequence of some form of disobedience to the gods, thus creating the modern human, who was left to search for his or her other half - the soul mate.

A new age belief is that souls are made with a direct connection to one another, in pairs as they say, and it is the other pair of your soul, that is your ultimate soul mate.

In the life of every person, there is at least one person with whom we make a very deep connection. The connection at times is too deep, beyond our greatest and wildest dreams.

And my dreams - the deams in my mind, the ambition that fuels my ideas, the mischief that runs through my brain, the light that permeates my eyes, the invisible tickle that makes me smile....

It's all you.

Good Books

I think we must read only the kind of books that wound or stab us. If the book we’re reading doesn’t wake us up with a blow to the head, what are we reading for? So that it will make us feel good? Good Lord, we would feel good precisely if we had no books, and the kind of books that make us feel good about ourselves are the kind we could write ourselves if we had to. But we need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A good book shows us our obstacles and addictions – it breaks our hearts open so that new light can get in. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us.

The Waiting Game

Every evening, I sit down and keep looking at the front gate through my window. It has become sort-of a ritual now. Grab a cup of coffee, open the window, sit down and wait. I wait for you to open the gate and walk through it like you always did. I wait for flowers and poetry, and childish giggles. I wait till the coffee cup is empty and it is too dark outside for the gate to be visible anymore. Then I get up, only to do it all over again the next day.

I wait for you everyday, but the truth is, there is no you and there is no walking in. There are no giggles and no poetry in the air. There is just the closed gate mocking me through the window.

Its funny how life operates - it amazes me, how it gives and takes all at the same time - during the same day, at the same moment, it gives someone so much happiness and takes every ounce of it from the other.

Empty Bottles

What stories these old vintage bottles tell - stories of families, and kids, and parties, and sad people. They must have seen it all. They must have been filled, and emptied, and refilled again. They must have been rinsed, and cleaned, and tossed, and thrown away. They must have rolled on the grounds for miles. They must have helped people celebrate life and love.

These bottles are the survivors - those that lived to tell the tale. Those that didn't break when they were tossed away, those that shined a little more when cleaned and those that made the nicest clicking sounds over celebrations every time even though they knew they were going to be thrown out as soon as someone was done with them. And still, look how proudly they stand.

For More: I Romanticize 

Life is Funny [30]

For your entertainment, here are a few conversations with the wonderful people in my life... :-)   

To an annoying co-worker: "You have the right to remain silent. You should exercise your rights as much as possible."
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Oh my, she is actually capable of singing normal and sane songs!
-listening to paparazzi by Lady Gaga
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During a party in Marriott, accidentally walks in the men's restroom and sees three guys...
Raaji: Oh, wrong one. Sorry!
One Guy: We don't mind :-)
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Katie: Why do you like him? He is not even that cute.
Emily: "I’m attracted to him physically, not facially.
-good argument
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One early morning meeting, Raaji is not a morning person, she is sitting in a corner having coffee....Alan: So, should we prceed without waiting for an answer from the appropriation committee then?
Raaji: huh? Caffeine loading,  please wait.
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Shaf: Can I have two pieces of cake?
Raaji: Certainly. Take this piece and cut it in two.
-on Dieting
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Raaji: A logistical question for you: I have these pants that have a zipper, a button and a drawstring and I have recently discovered that they also have belt loops. It already takes me 5 minutes to get out of them. Why would someone add a belt?
Emily: Duuuude, they are the ultimate anti-sexual assault pants! Legit awesome
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What? They have Braveheart and Gladiator on back to back? Now that's called good decision making.
-Cyril
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“I can’t believe they took my license! Now if they catch me speeding I’ll REALLY be in trouble!”
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[For more Funny Quotes, click on the 'Funny Quotes" tab in the menu bar above]

These Things

The other day, I opened my laptop to show a friend something. As soon as she looked at the screen, she inquired about the desktop background I had. She found the photograph very beautiful and asked about who took it. Since I have had the same desktop background for God knows how long, it took me a moment to back up and think about where I got the photo from. After a moment's hesitation it came to me. It was taken by someone I had adored for the longest time - someone with whom things didn't work out. I told her so, but later it got me thinking. I realized that I look at this photograph so often but I don't really think of him anymore. He was the man I lived and breathed at one point. And years after, now, it was just a photograph, and fond memories whenever I do choose to go down the memory lane.

We hold things so special because of who we associate them with. At times places also hold the same meaning for us. But when we move on from that person, they become just that - things.  These things don't serve as reminders or any memories unless we want them to. I am guilty of holding on to things for a long time now but the truth is, these things don't control me. I control them. I choose to remember people by them, or I choose to just indulge myself in their aesthetic pleasure without thinking about any memories associated with them.

Moving on from someone is probably the best thing that could happen to us. And we can move on when we want to. And when we don't move on it is because we don't want to. I know it is easier said than done but at the end of the day, it is, after all a choice. The pain of what we know is so much easier to hold on to than the happiness of what we do not know. We seek familiarity, we hold on to the things we know because too often we are too afraid of throwing ourselves out there and trying something new. The pain is too familiar.

Some lovers might take offense in this. They might say that love is sacred, that it is holy, that, whats the point of loving someone if you are going to dismiss them just because things didn't go well with them or they didn't love you back. I agree with you. Love is sacred and holy, but you do this sacred emotion a great injustice by wasting it on someone who does not need your love. Now that would be exploiting the holy emotion. Why would you feed someone who is already full? If you try to do so, they will not eat, they will probably throw it away or keep it for some other time - time that may never come. Now that is insulting love. Why wouldn't you go feed someone who is hungry - who has been starving for years? Wouldn't that be more fulfilling?

I am so glad that certain things around me are just things. My love is worth much more to be wasted on things.

[5] Sunday

It's a Sunday in a small town. It's a crisp morning with the smell of cinnamon in the air. There is some sort of clarity that comes while living in a small town which just wouldn't come if you are in the city. The sun is shining bright and all I want to do is take a walk along the beach, make eye contact with the strangers, and grab coffee from the local bakery.

Some Sundays are like that. Peaceful and serene. Some mornings you wake up and somehow you have a better sense of yourself. You have figured some things out that you weren't really sure you would be able to. You had a few epiphanies in the wee hours of the morning which gave you a better sense of self. I think that's one of the most important but most underestimated things in today's life: Knowing your own self. You really can't do much if you don't know what you want out of it. You can't really expect anything from anyone unless you know what to expect from yourself. But it seems like we just don't have the time to reflect on ourselves. No time to figure out how our actions effect others or the world in general. We are just running. Running to God knows where. No wonder we are all messed up.

I am just thankful for a Sunday like today.

Sweet Sadness

I am sad tonight. I am happy tonight.

I’m happy that someone could make me feel this sad. It tells me that I am human. It makes me feel alive. The only way I could feel this sad now is if I felt something really good before. Life is a patchwork, you know - here and there, scraps of pleasure and despair joined together, hit or miss.

And love, as I have come to understand it, has its own time, its own season, and its own reasons for coming and going. You cannot bribe it or coerce it or reason it into staying. You can only embrace it when it arrives and give it away when it comes to you.

So I  suppose I have to take the good with the bad. Reminds me of what Sinatra ever so beautifully sang:

"But for someone you adore - it is a pleasure to be sad."

Old Friend

Before you know it... it's time for the yellow and the green, slowly turning into brown. Before you know it, Fall is here. It kicks the treacherous summer out one day sometime after the midpoint of September. It stays awhile like an old friend who you have missed. It settles in the way an old friend will settle into your favorite chair, with a cup of coffee and fill the afternoon with stories of places he has been to and things he has done since he last saw you.

My old friend is here again.