quotes

A guy and a girl can be just friends but at one point or another one of them will fall for the other maybe temporarily, maybe at the wrong time, maybe too late or maybe just maybe forever!
don't know if that's true. just put it there because it struck me...

here's another one Wouldn’t life be perfect if sweatpants were sexy, Monday mornings were fun, junk food didn’t make you fat, girls didn’t cause drama, guys weren’t so confusing, nothing was regrettable, and goodbye's....They only meant until tomorrow

god created men first because you always make a rough draft before you make a masterpiece
this one's making me laugh (i don't believe it)

should i smile cause you're my friend, or cry cause that's all we'll ever be?
what can i say, except "hmmmmm..."

im not supposed to love you, im not supposed to care, im not supposed to live my life, wishing you were there, im not supposed to wonder where you are or what you do, im sorry i just cant help myself, i fell in love with you
another "hmmmmmm..."

there are some things that we can't change, no matter what, or how hard we try. these are the things that keep my faith strong...a faith that there is a god somewhere, who pulls the strings that control the unknown and unpredicatble stuff in our lives. so what do i do when such things come my way? if i want them out of my life, i pray to god to pull the strings that would throw these things out of my orbit. if i like them, i hope they'll stay on for a longer time.

i hate the things that i cannot change. they are a pain in the neck, a hinderance to the otherwise smooth flow that i identify as my life. i'm sure everybody's like that. there are a few such things right now...i hope they go away for good, and never gain access to my orbit. like they say in shawshank redemption, "hope is a very good thing; maybe the best thing. and a good thing never dies". here's to hope for better times.

yawnnnnnn

ever so slightly tired...and frustrated. when the body's not responding to your command, i guess that's bound to happen. i just hope i'm back to being "as fit as a fiddle" soon...or almost :-)

life's gotten into a predictable groove...yet again. how nice! sigh...i hate this predictability. did i ever tell you that i once wished for the third world war to happen soon? ok, let's chuck that. that was at a time when i was not the most sensible person around, so i guess that could be forgiven. i dont wish for the third world war now, but maybe, a flying dragon, or a reincarnated dinosaur would be nice!

A Wingless Dream

It comes back to me
Every now and then,
A wingless dream;
Startles me with its intensity,
Amazes me with its persistence,
Hurts me with its futility —
Each time it comes
And leaves in its wake
A sea of remorse,
I resolve
Not to put at stake
My happiness; not to take
A load of care
That will not wear;
Not when this dream
Has a glossy sheen
That will never go away.

The Fifty First Day

I

Brian looked at the party caps and the paper plates strewn around the room. The room looked totally messy and he did not envy his mother’s maturity and independence right then. She would have a tough time in the morning, no doubt. On second thoughts, he realized that she was always having a tough time these days. Dad’s illness had taken an immense toll on her and his otherwise cheerful mom had been reduced to a nervous wreck who dropped dishes and swore and got irritated. He wondered why things had changed. To his twelve year old mind, the sudden change from bright and colourful to black and grey was quite indigestible. Was dad getting worse? No, the doctor had assured him that dad could only get better…then what was the reason behind the changed scenario? He wanted a lot of answers, but he felt lost, because there was no one to help him.

His friends had told him that AIDS didn’t have a cure. And that all the sinners like dad, who took drugs and dealt with drugs, deserved to die. They said he would die anyway, because of all the drugs he had taken. Brian often wondered why his dad took drugs. Phil said that only people who are really unhappy take drugs, to forget their unhappiness. Why was his dad unhappy?

Brian lay back in his bed, but sleep eluded him. He got up stealthily, and made his way to the door across the corridor. He paused for the briefest of moments as he reflected on the umpteen times that he had ventured into the room that lay beyond, without the slightest of qualms; the games he had played with dad, the breakfasts they had in bed together. He felt a telltale tear making its way out of his eyes, and quickly wiped it off.
The door creaked when he pushed it open. He hoped that the sound would not wake his mother. He knew that dad would not be asleep anyway. He seldom slept these days.

“Claire, is that you?”
“Dad, it’s me…I was wondering if we could talk…for sometime…please?”
“Ofcourse Brian”. Brian thought he detected a faint hesitation in his dad’s voice. “What is it young man? Enjoyed the party so much that you can’t sleep, eh?”
“Dad, you know, I didn’t enjoy the party at all. Not when you are sick and unhappy, not when my friends say that you are unhappy and that you will die soon, not when mom looks sad all day long.”
“Brian, come here my boy. Are you scared?”
“Dad, are you scared? Are you scared that you will not be around for much longer? Phil was saying that you ought to be scared, especially since you brought this upon yourself.”
Andy felt his frail body shaking with sobs. He hugged his youngest son tightly, and held on to him as though that was the last thing he could do to grab a few more days of life.
“I am sorry kiddo; I did not mean it to be this way. I am unhappy now, but my unhappiness comes from the fact that I cannot take you to your football practice matches, and that I cannot attend the twins’ graduation from the college; and that I cannot make your mom smile and be happy. I feel unhappy because I robbed all of you of the comforts I should have given you.”
“Hmm, dad is there a way by which we can reverse all this. I mean, go back in time, and erase your addiction; maybe, we can erase your illness then.”
Andy sighed, and when he did, it sounded like a groan to Brian.
“Son, I think I must tell you this. The doctor says that I have not more than fifty days left. Fifty days is a long time, you know. I have enough time to tell you so many stories that you would never fall short of stories to tell your grandchildren; enough time to give so much love to your mommy, that she would not feel the pain when I am gone; enough time to call the twins home and congratulate them on their successes, that they may never regret not having their old man around to applaud them when they collect their degrees. But Brian, fifty days is not a long enough time for me to go back in time and put right the things that I messed up.”
“Fifty days? Really? Dad…what happens after that? I...I will not let this happen to you.”
“I wish I could do something about it Brian. There’s not a day that passes by, when I think about what I did to all of you, to myself. I know now that happiness comes from within you. No matter what your friends say, you cannot buy happiness with a needle or a puff of smoke…it’s an illusion.”
“Hmm…dad, the doctor said you could only get better.”
“Son, I am already better. I am a better man now, a better husband, and a better father. I realize the injustices I’ve done to all of you, and I think that makes me a better man.”
“Dad, I meant, you becoming better…you know, not having to…go away.”
“Brian, I wish I did not have to go away…not when I have become a better person. It would have been great to live with all of you while I am a better man than I used to be…” Andy’s voice trailed off. He was thinking of the doctor’s verdict.
Fifty days…what a miserably short time when you know it’s all you’ve got; when you know that you cannot escape from whatever it is that will come to ambush you on the fiftieth day. He felt the tears well up in his eyes again. He felt weak, terribly so, and he wanted to sleep, but he couldn’t. He felt Brian stir beside him in his sleep.

The next morning dawned as usual, with a façade of cheeriness and a sense of the mundane. Andy awoke from his slumber and looked around. Brian had gone. He had left a paper though. A paper filled with a childlike scrawl…
“Dad, I don’t believe the doctor when he says that you will be gone after fifty days. Who is he to say that? Can we look at an ant running around and say that it will be dead in ten minutes? I think you will live for more than fifty days. I shall look forward to the day after the fiftieth day. Hope to see you there, Brian.”

Andy did not know how to react to a child’s anger at a verdict that signaled the end of the road for his father. He knew that there was no point in hoping for a miracle, and that he had reached a place where there were no miracles, no hope for one. But then again, wasn’t he the one who had told Brian that fifty days is a long time? So if his battered body could drag itself to the fifty mark, could it not see through another day? Could he not be there to greet Brian on the fifty first day? Wasn’t it worth praying for, if that was the last thing he could do to snatch a few moments from the jaws of death?

Andy got out of his bed slowly, and knelt down to pray. He did not know how to pray, so he said aloud, to no one in particular, “If I have fifty days to live, I’m sure you can give me another measly day. Let me live for fifty one days.”


II

Six months after his twelfth birthday, on a fine March morning, Brian was playing with his friends. Presently he saw his mother come out of the house and wave at him. “Brian, come in here. Dad’s going to drive us down to the station. The twins are coming home for their spring break. You don’t want us to get late, do you?”
“Coming mom…” He ran as fast as he could. Brian had grown to realize the worth of every moment in his life and in the lives of those that he loved. His dad’s daily prayer to let him live for fifty one days, had brought them this far. He hoped it could see them through a few more springs.

selfish me

i have been thinking a lot lately, and when i do that, i always come up with some amount of philosophical shit. this post will have a lot of that, so you decide if you want to continue reading...(yeah i like to put disclaimers at the very begining; i think it makes no sense to put them at the end, after the harm's been done!).

on one of those days, when i was in my usual pensive state of mind, i came up with this beauty: "i have one life to live, so i shall not live it according to anybody's terms, but my own." i know that's nothing novel, and that many others would have said the same thing before me, but each person who discovers something for himself, experiences the this-is-so-true feeling about something, deserves all the credit that the very first person who came up with the idea got, so there!

am i being selfish when i say that? i say "no". i mean think of this...i am born, i grow up, i attend school, college, take up a job, marry someone...so far most of everything's been done according to a lot of other folks wishes; but heck, where's my life...it's-a-going-away, slipping by too damn fast, and before i realise it, i think i'll have cataract and a few dentures...you get the point, right?

so before that happens, i need to get a life of my own, which essentially means, do the things i've always dreamt of doing, be the person i've yearned to be, see the sights i have envisioned in my mind, go to places i have traversed in my mind...and no, this isn't selfishness. i'll indulge in some plagiarism and borrow walter scott's concept to dish out my idea

"breathes there a man with soul so dead,

who never has loved himself?"

here's to love of the self! (better late than never!)