Tag Archives: Non Fiction

Presence of Mind!

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What can I say, my mind has a mind of its own!

It’s faster than the speed of light and more active than a nuclear reactor!!

The moment I touch the first dish or pick a shirt to fold, it leaves me before I can know. It runs wild with the wind and is harder to tame than a horse. I go through my day like a zombie, never knowing what is it that I am doing, what has been done and what I am stepping into next, for my thinking companion is never around.

In my head I have stories forming every minute and I am contemplating a theory or two all the time. It would have been great if I would have chosen writing as a profession, in which case I am sure I would have gone blank in the matter of seconds, but in daily life that I lead and the work I do, it is important that I pay attention to smallest of details. I mean, I would love to have a day when I didn’t have to redress cause I had it on the other way round!

After years of double checking every thing I do, I am now beginning to work on my presence of mind and I can safely say from my last few days experience, it is the hardest thing I have ever done but equally rewarding too. For instance, today for the first time I noticed the beautiful flowers and honey bees on the trail I run on every  day. Even if the control was only for few seconds and the bees took me soon away again into the thoughts of a book I had read by Agatha Christie and from there to a far away land of crime and thriller, I felt alive in those seconds. I soaked in the scarce European sun,  smiled at the beautiful blue sky and felt the cool breeze on my face.

I wish I can live every minute of my life like this. The other day I wrote about wanting a life of dependability. For me presence of mind is first step in being dependable. So, no matter how long it takes  I will tame this wild mind of mine.

Hee haw…

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**Only text is mine Image is thankfully borrowed from http://www.creativitypost.com/philosophy/hold_your_horses_jonah_lehrer_steps_towards_the_science_of_creativity

Dependability!

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dependable

The other day, after yet another episode of not being able to find my kitchen pen, my always organized husband came to my rescue. He simply took a ribbon and tied my pen to a hook along with a notepad to write on. Voila!

That was such a simple solution and yet, I did not think of it. However that was not the invention of the century nor the event that inspired this post. It was what he said while tying the knot that got my thinking horses running in all directions.

He told me, “You should place things around you in ways that you can depend on them with your life. You need a pen, make sure you will always find one right here.”

 Build a life of dependability! That is exactly what I want!

Being organized isn’t my thing, nor is being disciplined. I tend to lack energy to put things in order and hence half the time I walk in my own home as if I am lost. But that thing about certainty, it goes beyond being organized at home. My blog for instance, is a perfect example of how I function. I come here once in blue moon and write some thing and then forget that I even have a blog. If some random kind soul reads it and wishes to come back to check  if I have anything more to say, I possibly would disappoint him till he unsubscribes himself. Now, don’t think I will change that! But that pretty much sums me up.

So these days, bit by bit, a little every day, I am building a life of dependability. I am making a place for everything and putting everything in its place and Yet Here I am, writing this down at one place I am most likely to forget.

So long my dearest blog, till I think of you again!

**Only text is mine image is thankfully borrowed from… 

http://thesavageworld.wordpress.com/2011/05/23/being-dependable/

Onion-y Life!

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I am very, very aware of her pretty little face, right at the nape of my neck. She is breathing down on me in her futile attempt at belittling my already little self. I chose to ignore her hushed chuckles as I focus on the blade in hand. I try again, to get in the harder bitter shell.

“Arh! This is just wrong”, I hear her say, but I continue to peel any way.

I dig in my  sharp steel knife into the hardness of much awaited life. The fumes are sharp and flavor is bitter, I don’t notice when I begin to cry. I am done with hard sunny shell of becoming a baby and I can see the sweet layer of tiny steps.  I am getting impatient as I hear her snickering behind my back, I peel away the childhood and all the growing up days.

Oh dear lord!

Comes the rotten layer,  of lies, deceits and all the ugly things that come with college affairs. I wash my hands in lonely tears and get right back on my pealing race. There are sweet flavors of love, motherhood and growing old, but I am too busy getting to the core.  With every layer gone, the silence deepens,  I can’t guess why, she is no longer speaking. I feel the sadness grow, as I am left with nothing more. Surrounded by the shells and layers,  I went through life, like a chore. As I turn around, I see her sad face.  My life, looking up, as if to say,

“Yes, you are done,

but it wasn’t a race,

whatever happened to living and taking a moment to embrace?”

 

Abandoned

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May be, I am the kind of person who likes to see whole lot of small things, behind all the big nothings.

May be, I just want to fish a story or make one up in an empty space… but doesn’t   that make you feel so young and alive! Just like, being five all over again. Not so long ago, in moment of heat, I was told that ‘I am a spoiled eight year old with no sense of reality and who thinks this world is nothing but Cinderella’s big pumpkin.’

Well, in my defense, I would like to differ. I don’t think I am 8 years old, I am Five and I like it that ways.

Today, let’s just take a look at a place we all go for the stories – Blogs. Random Blogs!

I like the colorful, sensible yet fascinating blogging world, better than the real deal.  However, when ever I come across a blog, that has been estranged by his once proud owner, a sense of sadness takes me over. It’s like those beautiful left alone housing buildings. Don’t they spook you just a little? I mean, what does it take for one, to just get up one day and leave, Never coming back! I am sure it takes more than a day to leave a life behind!

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In  the world of blogs, we see lives, its like a whole new planet out here…

And there are so many of them, not just on wordpress, they are just there, one day thriving with amazing images, words, recipes, songs, secrets and then… well there is not another date.

It makes me sad.

If you have left someone/Blog behind, please come back, cause its waiting for you, right where you left it.

***These images are thankfully taken from http://hermuddysocks.wordpress.com/2012/01/02/abandoned/ 

A friend, who also inspired me to write this, cause i miss her in her blogging world. 

What women want!

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When I saw her first, she looked like a doll in that window, in her blue swim suit. So still and beautiful, one hand on the waist, other on the glass, looking for something or someone, she stood tall. A hooker, they called her, a hooker in the Rossebuurt, but I don’t think she was more than sixteen.

She haunts me day and night, even though it’s been days since the scene. I wonder about all the possible romantic reasons of her being inside of that pretty draped room. “May be she was waiting for her ‘Richard Gere’, that pretty woman.

Isn’t that what we all want? – Possibility of romance, no matter how grave the life itself might be!

When I was younger, I remember listening to endless romantic/sad songs. Tears came easy and mood was romantic, that’s all I knew about world.

Even while growing I saw numerous romantic movies, from ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ to ‘He’s just not that into you’ I wanted to be one of them, lost in love even though it pained.

Unlike men, we are ready to suffer, for the sake of living the dream, we cling on to hard lives, curses, difficult relationships, abuses and all that, for the sake of being in love.

It’s a need, just like water, air and food…

a need, a man would know none of…

Little bit of romance, a love story to call our own.