Of Blushes, Habits and…Dissolution

“Excess of everything is bad,” was the oft-repeated adage of my mother to me during my growing up years, and the same will be surely rattled off by me to my kids.

It is the one rule of life that I adhere to, or at least try to adhere to. Impressions dull, compliments fail to impress, and appetites diminish in face of excess.

Some ties, some impressions, some connections have to be really strong to be able to weather out the storm of excess, which brings a monotonous boredom in its wake.

Girl meets boy. Boy seemingly falls hard for her. Girl is all blushes as boy pays court. Days go by, moments glide past and herein enters the reality of life. Fevered compliments become lukewarm. Conversations now come interspersed with awkward silences.

Everything has a shelf life. Your appreciation and liking for most people including.

We rarely find the few we intend to and find worthy of appreciating for a long span of our lifetime. And suppose you do find one, the reciprocation of the same is highly doubtable.

Past experiences have taught me to be wary, to hold myself secure within the walls of my inner being in case I am faced with a non-responsive heart and soul.

A silver-tongued devil, a completely alien creature and a supremely talented person is who I recently came across. After enjoying a period of animated conversations and much more, am now afraid of the demons of excess taking over.

Should I ration my affection carefully so as to sustain something I have come to cherish dearly? Even if I do so, the insecurity that comes from being rejected once fails to leave me alone. And, time and again I find myself wondering about the sincerity of feeling on part of the other.

Isn’t it also unfair on the other? Isn’t the other person entitled to a just hearing? Hmm..I think so.

Well, life is sure to teach me more.

I must, nay will, learn to get over this glitch and continue my pursuit of happiness in earnest…

Into The Blue..

Megha Sharma

A breezy dawn it will be..
The day I walk into the sea

Wet sand will cling to my toes
The day I let go of all friends and foes

The wind will whip my hair haywire
As I pay homage to all my frustrated desires

Caught between the extremes of life
I will abandon my role amid all the strife

Soft and sultry, the waves will lap around my feet
The day I finally bemoan a heart untouched by love’s heat

It will be long before they come..it will be long before I am found
It will be long before some cry..it will be long before some wonder,  just why did I die

Poetic justice it was (a very short story)

Megha Sharma

Was it bad timing or sheer rotten luck? wondered Neesa. Neither, whispered a small but persistent voice in her head. It was a rare case of Divine Retribution, also known as poetic justice.

The realisation of the same hit Neesa in the gut like a fist. She was long afraid that might have been the case as she lay staring at the cieling for days on end, with tears trickling down the side of her face.

Utter desolation swept over the frail-looking young woman as she wiped the perspiration off her brow.

So this was it, this was God’s way of reprimanding her to be careful about what one wished for. All she had wanted was to secure some succour for her mom, whom she could clearly see reeling under the effort of taking care of Neesa’s long-ailing father.

In her wish to see her mother relieved, Neesa had inadvertantly brought on an untimely end to her beloved father’s life. Or so she believed to be true.

In the aftermath of that tragedy of magnum proportions, Neesa witnessed her mother struggle day in and day out, trying to deal with a loss she could barely comprehend.  The loss of a husband, a companion of 27 years.

Taking care of her father, though exacting, was all that Neesa’s mothers’ life revolved around. And once freed of that task, she hardly knew what to do with herself.

Had she, Neesa, been indirectly responsible for inflicting this pain unto her mother and the rest of her family? Had somebody taken her wish to put an end to their misery to mean an early death for her father?

And, was this the reason for her own heartache and the miserable failure of her endeavour to secure the affections of the one guy she had truly fallen for?

The lovelorn girl pictured God deep in thought, finally deciding to etch her punishment in stone. “Quid Pro Quo,” he uttered with a small sigh.

Neesa was rendered numb.

She knew she had to get out of this, conquer this for once and for all because it would be stupid to wallow in grief for the rest of her life over it.

One’s life is one’s own to alter and improve. Beyond a point, there are only a couple of people who are truly affected by what happens to you.

Placing her conviction in this adage, Neesa vowed to try once again to let this pass, and live in the moment for herself and those chosen few whom she knew would be glad to see her smiling at all times.

Confessions of an emocionální blázen

Megha Sharma

Distancing yourself from the everyday, the routine, life and the people in it comes very handy in leading a peaceful, unfettered existense. Devoid of any ups and downs, devoid of any pain and ecstasy..comfortably numb.

Recently, I have been in twin minds over such a mode of living and all it entails.

Till some time back, I was a confirmed believer in the concept of ‘feeling’ and the importance of it.  To feel – be it sorrow or happiness, dejection or elation – is always better than a hollow vaccum. Or is it?

Lately, I have started wishing for a wee bit of that vaccum to engulf me. I think I need to cultivate some amount of indifference in order to feel less, in order to avoid pitfalls, and in order to be relaxed.

An easily excitable and too cheerful a nature is of little help in face of rejection and suffering.

I consider myself one of those who are too spunky to be down for too long, but with that spunk comes a keen sense of perception too, a heightened awareness.

And this presents a problem when all you want is for things and situations to not affect you.

Maybe it is a cheap way out, but then I am not sure I will be able to see myself through it.

After all..I do love them damn tears, and them damn giggles way too much to imagine my life without an exclamation mark in it!

Blindfolded..and loving it

Megha Sharma

A tongue that slays and soothes with equal ease, razor sharp witticisms, a persona that is saucy and sweet at the same time… Sighhh! The list of accomplishments I seek for myself is getting evermore elusive with each passing day. First on, my essential nature refuses to ebb and secondly the age factor is not coming to my aid either.

Twenty-six and counting, birthdays have now taken on an ominous gloom and despite my best efforts to shop the pall away, I nevertheless find myself wondering about all the grand and some not so grand plans I had made for myself.

A couple of days back, a dear friend of mine who is blessed with a cynical bent to his thought process, argued that life as we know it is not worth living at all. And that the prerequisites for a “happy” existense in these chaotic times are myopia (short-sightedness) and willful ignorance.

Now though I disagreed with him in principle, partly because I believe in the spirit to live and in part because I just had to argue with him, he did make me think of my reasons to exist in a world totally devoid of the concept of justice.

I like living in the moment. It is not possible all the time, but it is the only viable means to justify me being “happy” in my own way or even ending the day with a smile when I don’t have any reason to.

Brooding over the ‘what if’ and the ‘may be’, ‘the just’ and ‘the fair’ gets me nowhere.

So, I close my eyes, and just go on. Fight the auto wallahs day in and day out, crib over the lack of etiquette in Indian men, curse the hostility of Delhizens each time I go for a night out, yet end up beginning the next morning with renewed hope of a better day in passing.

My friend calls it deluding oneself, I prefer to call it momentary bliss courtesy myopia..