Life Itself

[Last year, I put up a post called 2010 and this year I am going to do another one called 2011. I am tempted to make this a tradition.] You were exhilaration. You were disappointment. You were the tip of the mountain. You were the bottom of the sea. You taught me that coffee is bad for me, that being fat can happen more than once, that friendships and love can grow stronger with time, that no axiom applies to everyone, that risks need courage, that when you can't muster that courage - life makes you, that repetition is boring, that security is only as important as you make it, that change is liberating, that one genuine sentence can change hearts, that friends will be friends, that puppies make people both happy and sad, that hysteria* is possible, that revenge really scars everyone, that time does heal, that scrabble is fun at any age, that memory has a way of selectively keeping things that matter most, that lakes are serene, that sunlight streaming from your bedroom window...

What does it mean to be truly over something? Once in a while you go through an experience so intense that it never leaves the realms of your memory. It could be a person who traumatizes and leaves you scarred. It could be a breathtaking moment, one of those unreal, touching the line of impossible things. It could be a nightmare. It could be a taste that reminds you of something your grandmother makes. It could be a song on the radio at the exact moment that you thought of it. It could be a noise that scares you even in broad day light. You were one such experience for me. I wish I could cut you out, erase you, burn you and bury you. I wish you could feel every little inch of hatred that extends towards you. I hope you could feel pain, in ways that you inflicted upon me. I wish you could end.

Leaving is never easy. But it becomes almost impossible when there is systematic propaganda designed to make you belong and feel connected. There are very few places that give you the feeling of security and comfort, of knowing, to a great extent, that which lies ahead of you. And when time draws near to part from a place like that, it certainly isn't easy. So what is it that keeps me motivated to move on? I have learnt that I can't work for someone and be dictated to. I have learnt that freedom of expression and ownership are most important to me. And finally, I need to let those creative juices flow, else I feel suffocated and demotivated. When everything is designed to make me stay, self awareness makes me let go.

Feel the mud The dirt The grime The glass pieces Scrape your naked feet Feel the sky A hundred miles away Entirely out of reach Laughing Almost mocking you Feel the walls Closing in on you Every inch suffocating Cloistering Leaving you with no choice Give up. Feel your feet Rise Reaching out for the sky Scraping and climbing Clutching and running Fiercely believing. Yes, There will always be another day.

Bubble wrap your memories And seal them in boxes. Then on each lonely, sad day, Unpack one box at a time. Watch those mistakes set against all the happiness Those regrets against those wins. Laugh, cry, belive and heal Slowly losing one day to nostalgia.  And then close the box and store it for another gloomy day.

Take a needle and run it through your every vein. Hold a pointed nail against a blackboard and hear the sound it makes. Fill your room with no water and feel every breath slip outside. Run the fastest you have and then watch the snake still in sight. Remove the broken pieces of glass and sense your legs paralyzed. Fall from that building and hit the hardest ground as you collide. Stand still in the darkest room and feel a hand touch your back. Imagine the worst smell, the shrekiest sound, the harshest light, the worst death. Let go. Move on.

As I sat with a bunch of the most random people at 5 am, it hit me just how my world has completely turned around in the last one year. I don't think I'll ever forget the fear of entering a room full of people, all eyes on me, with a bag, two hours late. As scared as I was back then, I suddenly feel more grown up, less scared and much more self assured. So what is my "google moment"? (thanks for the idea s Kapur). Its a close fight between you actually convincing me you were a terrorist, a bunch of strangers feeling like friends at the word go, never ending nights at 10d, sitting on the engineering guest house roof, cleaning houses obsessively, taboo sessions, two heartbreaks, finding out that 25 year olds can be even more fun than 21 year olds, being drunk dialed by a girl, Goa ghost story at 3 am, finding an older brother, non Googlers who knew more about google than I did, Rishikesh, Sri sailem, pondicherry, walks in office, walks to the fountain, walks for baski...