So this afternoon, as I was in the middle of a heated argument with someone, I remembered my very first kiss. Ever. Just like that. Out of nowhere.
And then I remembered that my favourite musical instrument is the piano.
So random.
Only the vanquished remember history.
~ Marshall McLuhan
You have to give it to keep it.
What is it?
The actual answer is 'Your word....".
But don't you think 'Trust' makes more sense?
Dream on
There are all sorts of dreams. But every one has one. That special one. That one dream we run after. Despite reality.
At some point, may be we accept that the dream has become a nightmare. We tell ourselves the reality is better. We convince ourselves its better that we never dream at all. But the strongest of us, the most determined of us, we hold on to the dream. Or we find ourselves faced with a fresh dream we never considered. We wake to find ourselves, against all odds, feeling hopeful. And if we're lucky, we realize, in the face of everything in the face of life, the true dream is being able to dream. At all.
Desire
Why is it that the heart only desires what it can't have?
Desire, left unfulfilled, can leave us heartbroken.
And thats never good.
But as tough as wanting something, and not having it, can be, the people who suffer the most are those who don't know what they want.
Great Expectations II
Addendum:
Nothing ever goes according to plan. Or to expectations. Or to wishes.
Then why do people continue to have expectations?
Because its the expected that keeps us steady. Keeps us standing. And sane.
And why do people still fear the unexpected?
Because its the unexpected, that blows us away. And changes our lives.
So someone forwarded me an email this morning, which was a real pleasant surprise as quite contrary to most forwarded emails, this one had true life meaning to it and wasn't just a waste of time.
I won't repeat all the words in there. Except for the following, which were my favourite:
"Nobody said life would be easy. They just promised that it would be worth it."
~ Anonymous
Something to think about.
In other news, I found out today that two of my good friends are going to be visiting India the same time I am. I invited them to my cousin's wedding and they agreed to attend. I am so excited that they will be there and see how different weddings, and life, are there compared to here. I am excited I want them to see how different it feels when you're dancing with family and friends for an occassion you actually care about; to music you understand so well, when you dance to it, it feels like its running in your blood. How different it feels when you're laughing with someone you miss and someone you know misses you.
I am so excited.
In other news, someone I had lunch with today, looked at me square in the eyes and told me that he/she could see right through me because dark in colour as they may be, my eyes don't do a very good job of hiding what I feel.
True dat.
True dat.
Great Expectations
From the moment we gain our senses, no matter how old we are, we begin to have expectations. About the kind of life we'll have. The kind of people we'll be. The kind of people we'll have in our lives. The trails we'll blaze. The places we'll see.
And then we really come to our senses.
Sometimes you don't get to choose.
And thats just the way it goes.
Shake it off.
There is no room for air.
So there is no room for nerves.
Don't stand so close to me.
At the end of the day, when it comes down to it, all we really want is to be close to somebody. So this thing about invasion of personal space and privacy and boundaries and this thing where we keep our distance and pretend not to care about each other is really all just bull.
So we pick and choose who we want to remain close to. And once we've chosen those people, those few people, we tend to stick close by, even though we may never tell them how we truly care about them. No matter how much we hurt them and no matter how much they hurt us.
The people that are with you at the end of the day. Those are really the ones worth keeping.
And sure sometimes close can be too close.
But sometimes, that invasion of personal space, despite all the complaining about it, can be exactly and all what one really, really needs.
I met my friend and former colleague S. for coffee. He is considering enrolling in the CGA Program and wanted some guidance on the matter. I looked at his documents and it hurt me to tell him that he would have to start from the beginning of the program as his previous education doesn't count, either because he completed it at a college, not a university, or because he didn't score well enough.
Later on, I thought to myself. About the path he chose in life. And the path he is about to choose. He will turn 30 in two weeks. He cannot marry his girlfriend of three years because he says he is not financially settled. And neither is she. When he told me all this, I felt like telling him what I truly think. That why did he wait so long? What good did it do him to continue to work at the place we both started out at? Why did he not move on at the same time I did? And that had he listened to me at that time, he would have been done the program by now, with a cushy job and would probably living with the love of his life in a home, modest as it may be, he can call his own.
And looking at him made me proud. I felt terrible for him. But it made me proud of the choices I made. Made me proud of the hard work I put in.
Regardless of the sacrifices that I made along the way.
Aging
Life should not be measured by the number of breaths we take. But by the moments that take our breath away.
~ Anonymous
My eyes say more than my lips...
...you say.
You're right.
So if you want to know, you're just going to have to try harder.
Very few people surprise me.
I hate surprises.
It hurts for a reason.
It always hurts for a reason.
4.55 pm, EST
Seat no. 03A. Free upgrade to first class. Jackpot! My book,
Hannibal. And club soda.
I curled up in the comfy chair in my Lulu Lemons, my favourite hoodie and Nappy socks. And looked outside. Into the clear sky. At 36,000 feet. Blue. So blue. Above the clouds. Pristine clouds. White clouds. White's my favourite colour. The clouds looked fluffy. Like a white goose down pillow. Soft. Inviting.
One view.
The clouds looked like a giant, white trampoline. One that if I jumped on the right way, I'd be able to reach out and touch the sky. With my fingertips. Just like I've always wanted to. Metaphorically. And literally. I tried to imagine the jump. The thrill. The freedom. And the wind in my hair as I soared through the sky. The thought made me smile.
Second view.
And then I thought of the end of the jump. Of coming back down to the giant, white trampoline. The smile vanished. The view had changed again. It wasn't a trampoline anymore. I didn't soar back into the blue. I plunged straight through. With my arms still outstretched. With nothing but wind and 36,000 feet under my toes. And my arms still outstretched. With nothing and no one to hold on to.
Last view.
I pulled the little white window shutter down.
And continued to read
Hannibal.
PS: I really should have posted the above last Sunday morning, when it was actually written. Oh well.
