Sunday, October 30, 2011

HBBC: Socialism

Welcome to the HBBC, this week's topic was chosen by Noor. (Why?!)
Warning: Do not expect an enlightening opinion on the matter.

Socialism, capitalism, anarchy and what not. Gibberish. I was 14 and was too curious for my own good, I even thought I could understand these ideologies. Remember VOY? (The good times!) Anyhow. I asked, and asked and asked some more. I think Ash and Rohit explained socialism and capitalism countless of times to me. (Forever grateful to you guys, I still wonder at your patience with my ignorance.) I read so many articles on them. Even printed them out, I am determined. I was going to crack this thing. I was even so ambitious I attempted understanding communism. I won't say I didn't learn anything out of all of those lessons. I did. Socialism is good, capitalism is bad. (Blame Rohit for the last statement.)

Jokes aside, I don't have an opinion on the matter to be honest. I will admit that I can't have an opinion on something I don't fully understand, yes my brain wasn't made to understand politics and economics. So does that get me off the hook or must I form my very own opinion? Or am I simply shying away from the challenge and risking sounding the ignorant opinion-less soul that I am? Whichever really. The conditions some people live in, how poor they are, must make us question governments and the current state of things. There is something wrong. Is it capitalism that's ruining the world? Or our lack of compassion and greed? Or are those basically different sides of the same coin?

Perhaps I should stop and go read an article or two and educate myself, or read a book and wait till all of this magically makes sense. Hmm.

Thursday, October 27, 2011


Don't worry about forgetting
Go ahead.
It's out of your hands.
But our memories,
they're safe with me.

Sent from my BlackBerry® smartphone from Oman Mobile!

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

A conversation

I knew one thing. I had to sit down and have a conversation with him. He didn't talk much, wore a lot of red, had the "I-dont-care" attitude, smoked, rarely smiled and didn't seem to fit in with the crowd he hung around. A bit on the chubby side but I think everyone considered him easy on the eyes. Perhaps the irresistible charm of a man who kept to himself? I don't understand where that charm stems from but I'd be foolish to try and deny it. You see, everyone has something to say. A story to tell. Yet we manage to judge others and deem them boring just because they looked it.  We have different ways of sharing that story that's all. Some had the immediate effect, the it factor while the rest of us held on to the hope that people were patient enough with us, waited till we told our story in intervals. These differences should be wonderful. Diversity. I'm not so sure they're regarded so most of the time. In fact people seemed to all demand an it factor of themselves that didn't fit them. I do that too, yes guilty. Then I realize I'm doing myself an injustice.
So anyways back to him. The talk we would have. Our friends would stare, mine didn't like him and his thought I wasn't cool enough. Yet so it was, so it is. That's how your paths cross with someone. He sits behind me in the lecture hall. I wonder where would he rather be right now, who would he rather be with, why was he sitting alone today?

A conversation is a world of its own. I'll learn so much about him, things his "cool" gang would never appreciate. Things he'd surprise himself with, not knowing why he shared them. Perhaps he's waiting for someone to approach him. Any excuse would suffice. How was the exam, a comment on the boring lecture, a good morning if our eyes happened to meet. Who of us remembers how they started talking to someone? It didn't matter. Perhaps it was that I said 'Hello. Excuse my boldness, but I'd like to prove to the world that you have a story. Please let me.' A quizzical smile played on his lips, a rare one. There was no way I'd receive rejection to such a request, was there? Of course everything's possible. Even so, getting out of one's skin is enough of a motive to go ahead and do it. Where did it go from there? I put down my books, I always had more than I needed but I looked the busy student. I sat down at some point, my bag still hanging on my shoulder. Midway I realized this, how do I subtly put it on the table? God, I must have looked awkward. Chillax. I put it on my books. Actually, he didn't seem to notice. The questions resumed but soon enough I stopped asking and there was a flow of bits and pieces of information. The one thing that led to another. For a moment, I was self-conscious at my ability to get some people to open up. It passed quickly. I said trifles about myself, but at least he knew now that there was more to me than met the eye. Emphasizing that fact was important for me somehow. He comes from a certain place, not too sure of where he's headed, doesn't know why he's meant to be here now and doesn't expect anything from anyone. Did he say that in clear words? No, but it was easy to tell.
At the end, I'd make him give up smoking, believe a little more in the world and we'd part as friends who nodded to each other when they passed by.

I never will, you see, I'll never be the one who initiates conversation. We've never even exchanged one word of formality.  Why was it so? I haven't lost sleep over this fact, but it makes you wonder sometimes. My pride? Yes, I guess I have a bit of that though I wouldn't admit it easily. Then there was life, and social circumstances. Things took their course, and you simply let them. What was the point of changing the status quo? That moment you know you can do anything in, you can share the secret you've been holding on to for so long, you'll ask the question you've been trying so hard to silence, you'll say yes to life, you're truly soaring knowing there was such a thing as the perfect moment and not only that, you were perfectly capable of seizing it. Ah, shyness, timidity and lack of bravery. They held me back. I'm yet to live that perfect moment. I would be exaggerating if I said we lived in different worlds but it was still true. All I'm asking for is one conversation where I prove my point, he has a story.

A year later, college starts. He's not there. He went back home. They said he found a better opportunity, changed his life plans or was it due to family issues? He was of the silent type, remember? So there was enough room for speculation. The place was no more the same, not only because he wasn't there anymore. It was because he was there at some point. And me? I wished him well.

Monday, October 24, 2011


Right now
She is just a conversation
Some twists of phrase
Rather than
Of fate ~

by @

It's become a ritual before I sleep, checking #micropoetry Some of the tweets are so amazing. I'm discovering a passion for poetry I never knew I had in me.

Friday, October 21, 2011


If every building falls  
And all the stars fade  
We'll still be singing this song  
The one they can't take away
 Closer To Love - Mat Kearney

See, at first, you'll have a hold on me if I care for you. No, wait. You'll always have a hold on my if I care for you, but that's a very dangerous thing to tell about myself. You might take advantage of it without knowing it yourself. What you say will be taken very seriously. Yet, I always manage to rise above and remind myself that all I really need is myself. Me being there for myself at times is what gets me through. It's not that I don't want to reach out. I do, and you help. I just like being there for myself sometimes. Knowing I can be enough if  (when?) left alone. My thoughts will torture me at first but they'll become a comfort zone, I can then silence them and tell them to be calm. Tell myself to be calm. It's just a phase. It'll go away, because you know what? It's actually normal. What's not normal is thinking it's wrong to feel this way. How can one live like that? How did I manage? I've no idea to be honest. I still struggle with convincing myself that it's ok to be depressed sometimes. A lot of confessions here, I need to stop leaving so much inside. You need to know. The world must hear this. The world cares not most of the time, but that is never the point. 

I look tired lately and I need to gain weight. Oh the junk food my body's been exposed to. I haven't had a hearty breakfast at home since so long. I miss my parents. I have exams. I've been living in the bedroom. I need a book that makes me sob in bed, I need that. I haven't stared out at a windowpane in what seems like a lifetime. Please God make it rain. I'm still here, but away. I still remember. I listen. Sometimes everything gets so tiring, I'd like to drop whatever I'm doing and stare into space. Look at the wall. See through a person. I can't make myself write one word lately nor pick up a book. Today this has changed. Let's not jynx it. I try and fail. It happens. I don't even try and there I get what I want. Life, eh? 

Should we dwell a bit on people or emotions? Neither perhaps. The world speaks for itself. It listens of course, but it's like when you're talking to your mom in the kitchen. You get heated up, you passionately tell everything, she cares and she's occupied with taking care of you. You get frustrated and speak even faster till she interrupts you to tell you move out of the way. Yet, she's listening and there you are thinking how silly everything you just uttered and want to thank her then and there, that is if you weren't too frustrated with the fact that you didn't finish what you had to say. I think I stopped making sense somewhere above but to me, this makes perfect sense. And today's about me, I wrote this for me. You see, I need me right now. And I'll risk sounding self-centered again. I don't know what it is. Let's just end this walk in my head. I bid you farewell. Myself cares for the world, by the way. Just thought you should know.

Dedicated to Noor for not giving up on me writing. 

Sunday, October 9, 2011


Wait. Music please. Coldplay is fine. Anything not too depressing nor too cheerful nor too thought-provoking. I need to lose myself into something other than the thoughts eating me alive. On repeat? Why not. There's a great comfort in abusing a song till it's so familiar you feel you're digging in, feeling every word he's singing. Discovering a different line each time. Losing track of how many times you played it. Singing out loud.

"Oh, I beg I beg and plead"
But I don't really want to. Do you hear that? I always sound needy. You hear me out then discard my pleas. You dishearten me when you do.

"Come out of things unsaid."
How?! I'm too scared. I can't be open like you. I try and find myself opening to everyone in all the wrong ways. Instead I tread carefully. The comfort of the things unsaid. Those that should be understood yet need to be voiced out. The dilemma. Please understand without words. You do sometimes and it's frightening. It's as if you're under my skin.

"Confusion never stops."
It will if you manage to find the magical button that shuts your brain off. We swim in confusion, we aim and we miss, highs and lows, arguments, apologies, frienships... Failed attempts at flying. Wait, how are you supposed to live again? Where's the manual that says who to love, befriend, leave, forget? Where's the map to guide you through it? How much are you supposed to trust someone? What am I to do? Where do I go from here? Help. Needed. Now. I can never understand life the way it shows itself to you. Never expect me to.

"Nothing else compares."
That one thing you do. One thing that makes you love yourself at moments. One thing that makes you believe in the world. One thing that makes you love people. That one moment you cherish. That part of your day you eagerly look forward to. That honest hug. That kind word. That smile. That generosity of spirit. That lightness of spirit. That unaffectedness. Honesty Understanding. Acceptance. Freedom. Belief. Faith. Hope. Fate. Trust. Selflessness. Courage. Time.

Special thanks to Nahla for introducing me to the song. It's Clocks by Coldplay. Give it a listen.
Sent from my BlackBerry® smartphone from Oman Mobile!

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

An escape from the harsh reality
Into the soft realm of dreams
Balance, they said.
Tell me how.