Different

While we speak the same words,
What we convey is different.
While we hear the same words,
Our interpretations are different.

While we cherish the same moment,
What we experience is different.
While we remember the same moment,
Our recollections are different.

While we look at the same world,
What we perceive is different.
While we live in the same world,
Our worlds are different.

In Memoriam

In the end, I never really found myself.
Instead, I lost myself somewhere, sometime, in the clouds of goodness.

Perhaps, it was the best that could ever have happened, and I am glad it did happen that way...The Long Story formally ends today, marking the 100th post of this blog. Acknowledging it's end is the only thing left to do, and I do it today.

It will lie alone, waiting to be remembered, recollected... for that one last time, and that's going to be it. Period.

A Thousand Beginnings, A Single End

I usually know how to end something, even before I begin with it. It's not something that I figure out in the middle of the process... rather, it so happens that I try to figure out the process by which I can reach the very end I desire. With that, there are a thousand different ways I can begin, and still have the same end.

I know the end, but I am trying to find the right way to begin...

Those Little Pieces

"It's funny how a person can break your heart, and you can still love them with all the little pieces"

-Adya on Facebook

Tunnels to Nowhere

Cement, childhood. Those two words, in one place suddenly made me remember of one of the most enjoyable activity I have indulged in. Building tunnels in a pile of cement. I remember the network we used to construct, me and my friends. It was extensive and well-connected, and we used to spend hours to create our city among the tunnels. Tunnels, that eventually led to nowhere.

Where is that innocence, where we didn't know why we are building something, but still enjoyed building it? I mean, if I look now, my decisions on doing something are based on what I can get out of it. I don't do anything just for the heck of it. Those days are long gone.

But that brings me to a more philosophical question. Is the world really a place where each person has to have a purpose, a goal? Or is the world a place where we're supposed to live as we wish, without bothering about our purpose of living? That's something worth arguing about and I have sat in a heated argument which shed a lot of light on aspects of the question. It's too difficult to answer, according to me.

Chivalry or Feminism?

I recently met an old friend of mine, one I hadn't met for ages (or so it seems). It was fun to relive a fast-forwarded time interval, where almost everything changed, and indulge in talks about living in a modern society, especially one in which time is so precious.

First we came out of an Auto, and she took out a Rs.50 note. I said, "I am paying", thrice, each time I was louder than before, and finally I paid. I somehow feel responsible for paying... that comes with some degree of chivalrousness I expect myself to possess.

Quite the opposite, was the time when we ordered Cold Coffee at Barista. She paid for her half, and I let her pay so, albeit with some reluctance. Well, she was going to give me a treat, but I didn't even ask for what. I simply said that she should be happy I am letting her pay for her half. That's the part where I assume the role of a feminist, who believes in gender equality, in almost everything (God created us unequal for a purpose, so there will be something in which that inequality is desirable - therefore - almost).

It seems the two qualities are incompatible with each other, and this resulted in confusion that gave me a hard time today. The easy way out of the mess was to simply give a treat to her. I wish I had a reason... I wish.

That One Moment

She sat down, in wait...

They came back, all of them. Those memories rushed by so fast, that it was impossible to catch even one. But she didn't have to. Each got etched, almost burnt, into her conscious. She wasn't going to forget, for a long time to come. A dream had come true, the effort had been recognized, and hope had borne fruit.

... still she was waiting...

What now? What could she possibly say, or do, that could express what she was feeling? No dictionary possessed the word she wanted to say, no action could even approximate the way she felt. Even the rainbow didn't contain the color of her thought.

... and suddenly...

A tear flowed down, without her consent, while her emotionless face slowly registered surprise.

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Happiness doesn't always bring a smile to one's face, does it?

Unobservable Beginnings

The beginnings of a friendship are unobservable up till the point where you start considering someone as your friend.

I've yet to see someone who can say that a particular point of time is going to be the beginning of a friendship. Partnership (I am talking in a corporate sense, before anyone comes up with weird ideas), maybe, but not a friendship. It's like, once you become friends with someone, you start to understand as to when, approximately, you actually started thinking of that particular someone as your friend, but not a moment earlier.

The Choice

You can fault my style, but you can't fault my choice.

I can picture myself saying this someday, when it won't seem like a random thought at all. What makes me smile is the fact that the way I pictured it depicts me as smiling when I say it, and that's a welcome change in the mood indeed.

And I know I shouldn't be writing about this anymore... but sometimes it's easier to write and forget. I consider this as an artifact left behind by all that has passed.

The Attempt

Sometimes, the beauty is in the attempt.

- One Tree Hill

You and I

"Only you and I can really know what we mean to each other. That's because you're like a wordless poem to me - one that I can always cherish in my mind, but can never recite to anyone else. And I am the same to you."

And that, for me, is the beauty of a friendship.