NOTES FROM MY LIFE

NOTES ON MY LIFE

1. 1995
I score an 82 in my Maths exam. I am over the moon, so is my Ma for she cannot believe, as can I, that I found my way around numbers. But then my Baba comes home for lunch, goes through my answer script, smirks, ruffles my hair and says I could have scored another 10 marks in the paper.


At seven, my Baba taught me not to give myself certificates unless they are warranted.


2. 1998
I am at Gujrat Sports House in Ahmedabad crying openly in the shop wanting that Yonex Tennis racquet worth 3000 rupees. My Baba resolutely refuses, keeps looking for a substitute while my Ma holds my hands, never once consoling me. After an hour of needless drama from my side, I emerge out of the shop with a racquet less than half the price of the desired Yonex racquet, less fancy but good enough for a decent novice player like me.


At ten, I was taught that all demands may just remain demands and not all demands would demand a conversion to results.


3. 1999
I am being shipped off to the Scindia School, and I am off to another shopping spree for the long list of demands that a boarding school stay requires. I never till then owned a Nike, Reebok or Adidas. Never ever demanded one, but on that day my Baba takes me to this fancy shop and as a eleven year old my dream comes true when he buys me my first Reebok shoe. Before that day the closest I had come to a fancy shoe was playing with a guy next to me on the court with him slipping effortlessly into one.


At eleven, I learnt that sometimes patience is a virtue and what you secretly wish for might just come true when the moment is opportune enough for it to materialise. At eleven, I learnt to wait......


4. 2002
Boarding school, Grade 9, I am struggling academically and socially. Help is at hand through not from any friend. I am to blame for it all, and my Baba patiently heard my cries, he did his part, explaining me through it all, speaking to my ever helpful Housemaster but if there was something to be done it had to be done by me.


At fourteen, I was taught that a clap requires both hands, that I was to be responsible for my own actions, and that whatever age, a mess created by you has to be cleaned by you and no one else.


5. 2004
Academics is at all an all time low. My Baba seems to have given up, I don’t know where to head, but my Ma keeps giving me that unflinching look of encouragement every morning when I head to school and every afternoon when I come home. In the end 2005 brings good news....


At 16, I learnt that there is always that one person who is your bedrock, the foundation of all your strength and these people come from the unlikeliest of quarters. As for me my Ma could never have been a positive person but somehow she showed encouragement, not in words but in her aura. At sixteen, I learnt my Ma is my strength and that we all have one, just around the corner.


6. 2005
My first academic success, 12th Grade brings me a cool 90%. My Baba is happy, my Ma is ecstatic but I am just about glad that the whole exercise is over.


At seventeen, I realised that an achievement long awaited or long deserved or long overdue brings relief rather than excitement, that the relief always consequences in humbleness which is always desired.


7. 2006
My first year of Law in Pune, my first year with an independent bank account and in three months I have blown a hole through a big deposit which my Baba has placed. Three months in I realised my folly and I ask him to take the excess fat off my account. He refuses... Point blank.


At eighteen, my Baba taught me the value of money, the value of saving and the value of hard work for money. At eighteen, I learnt that it is easy to spend, difficult to earn, and that to teach a few valuable lessons a parent does not mind losing money, as long as the message reaches the right ear.


8. 2007
One of my best friend, who happens to be my mentor, my guide, my icon decides to leave college at the end of the first year. He transfers to a college in Mumbai. I am angry and act out for a long time, not understanding why he did this. I wonder for over a year what has happened in my life though we still kept in touch constantly.


At nineteen, my best friend taught me that a few decisions are tough to make, and tough decisions are generally sound decisions and that sacrificing today’s happiness for tomorrow’s success needs no validation except from the heart of the decision maker.


9. 2007
My first year in an apartment while sharing it with two friends. One disses my existence while the other hates me on my face. I am shocked, I don’t know how to react, how to live in a world where I am not liked at all, not that I am strange to this situation. But I manage, and by the time the following year rolls by I know I have made a friend while I am at peace with the other.


At nineteen, I realise that I won’t be loved by one and all, no matter how hard I try.


10. 2007
He is in love, I see that everyday. She is his best friend but does not realise the depth of his feelings. A point comes when she does; the friendship remains on the fence but never goes beyond. But he still loves her, knowing he will never ever get her, but he still continues to love her.


At nineteen, I was educated that no one falls out of true love, and the ones who do, never ever fell in love in the first place……


11. 2008
After a year of silent disassociation, my best friend and I reconcile in silence. After a year of constant let downs, another best friend blesses me with some sense and good sense does indeed prevail. After a year of hopeless arguments, my third best friend and I bury our past for a new beginning. And due to the proactiveness of another friend we turn and find ourselves on the same page.


At twenty, I leant that no matter the distance, if you are best friends distance will merely remain a word in the dictionary.


12. 2008
He is a fabulous professor, but he is blind. So all we do in his class is plug in music and talk amongst ourselves or do our own thing in silence, never ever listening to his treasure trove of knowledge he has to offer. But not my friend. He would sit up straight, no matter what the distraction, discuss the subject earnestly, and not ever give a single stand-in attendance, not even for his best friends.


At twenty, he taught me that we should never, under any circumstances, no matter what the consequences agree to take advantage of a disability, respect knowledge and specially the one who gives us the knowledge. At twenty, he taught me how shallow I had become and that even in the midst of his best friends he had the courage to stand up for what he felt was right, be unapologetic about it and live his life the way he wanted to.


13. 2009
I am in my fourth year, with friends, it is an established company but no ones really thinks high off me. No one expects anything great from me. I am quiet nameless and faceless. And come one day and I win a friendly poker tournament amongst seven friends, who have been playing for a long while. Everyone is surprised; no one acknowledges my skill, instead raving about my luck. But I know that it was luck with some skill which brought me the big pot.... But no one acknowledges the skill at work.


At twenty-one, I realised that it is a heavenly feeling to be an underdog, that it is ecstasy to constantly surprise people and that it is important to underplay yourself. At twenty-one, I just about realised that it is also important that I don’t drown myself in other people’s perceptions for they are just perceptions, like dust they fly off... And all they need is a brush off, just so that they don’t settle on and leave scars.

THE WIND BENEATH YOUR WINGS

I am here to hold your hand,
In rain, in the dark, and under the sun.....
I am here to see you succeed, to be your soul...
To live your dreams, when some of them dont exist.

I will hold you close to my heart,
Knowing that what you wish for
Can be done, can be achieved....
I will show you the way.

I will hold the candle, while you stride,
The destination is yours, the win is in you,
You have the wings, of scarlet and gold,
And I am the wind beneath your wings......

LOVE, FAITH AND INSPIRATION…….

In my first moments of triumph I counted on my companions,
In this moment of joyous victory, I wished for myself to surrounded……….
When my name was called, I rolled my head back and then took my first walk.
This was my victory dance, as I stood for the world to gaze at me at awe.
In this moment I was surrounded alright but I longed for my companions…
And disappointment was not for me, for I was blessed with their presence.

I wished for Love to be present while I won,
And Love was there with me, he had his arms around me.
Life is all about love for without him I could never glow as the sun wishes me to,
And without love parched I would remain… and a winner is never parched.

I prayed for Faith to be in attendance and they were answered…
For Faith stood with me; clutching my hand as I took my momentary bow………
What is life without a single trace of faith and what living without life?
She gave me an opportunity of victory; she gave me an opportunity to be a winner….

And finally I hoped for Inspiration to beckon my spirits in the destined moment,
He came…. Inspiration arrived and filled my heart with warmth.
For inspiration is the spring of my life, he is the autumn of my breath,
And, he came and swept me with an air of victory, and yes victor I was………….

BACK FROM THE DEAD

She lay gazing at the stars,
Hoping to find his face amongst them,
Wanting to see his eyes,
Feel his glare, his being....
And understand his vision.

And then she finds him,
She mentally re-arranges the stars,
She discovers that pronounced chin she adores,
The sunken cheeks, that stark forehead,
She realises his lips, his smile.... always crooked, a little.

She closes her eyes,
Knowing now that he is by her side,
Looking out for her from above,
Within her, in her being,
She knows now, the two are inseparable.

Her hands lift up, wet with the grass dew,
And she strokes his face,
She smiles, her cold touch turns warm,
She feels his body, close, warm, cosy,
And she knows, she knows... herself and him.

He lies, next to her, his hand on her head,
He plants a soft peck on her closed eyes,
Ans she wraps her arms around him,
She knows he is there,
Even if he is invisible, even when he is not there.

The night passes through,
The sun replaces the stars,
The darkness goes, the hollow white clouds in her place,
And she opens her eyes to the blinding brightness,
Alas..... the dream is broken...

And so she returns to her work,
Her children, his house,
For come night, come darkness, and the stars,
She shall lay on the grass, waiting for him,
For he will return from the dead for her.... one more time.

LOVE IMPOSSIBLE

His hair is ruffled, unruly.... yet it is soft and smooth,
But there is a certain calm in the storm, a quietness.
As I run my fingers through them.........
The stillness in me awakens.
I had them over my knees last night,
He laid them on me as we chatted away with our friends.
It felt good, important, close....
To him, his aura, his being.
And then he abruptly turned his face....
His fair stubbled cheeks rushed on my skin,
I winced, currents of pleasure ripped through me.
The end of his lips, thin, red and soft,
Found me, they fell delicately on my hips, I am taken aback....
I close my eyes, oh how I wish it remains like this.
He looks up at me, I like the attention,
I see his brown eyes, a laughter rising in them.
He recognizes my anxiety, and so he pulls me,
His hands, perpetually warm, burn through me.
He kisses my cheeks, my senses flare.
His fingers rush through my hair,
And I flow in this ecstasy, it is known to me... somehow.

Suddenly, it is morning, the sun warms through,
The sleep is disrupted, the dream is broken.....
And I see him blissfully sleeping next to me,
But the ecstasy remains a dream, for our love is impossible.

MY STARRY SIX-PACK

I am blessed with a six-pack,

It is strong, it is enticing,

It is all what a man wants,

And it is all that life can give.

I never did one crunch to own it,

I never controlled my diet to have them in place,

And I never dreamt that they be mine,

But now that I have them I feel blessed and nothing else.

They are not just a six-pack,

They are the starry six-pack, my best friends,

For they are stars in their own right,

For together they form a constellation called life…..

He is funny, superbly so, has the makings of a legend,

He is intelligent, without intimidation,

He is amiable, never overcooked, never overdone,

He is the first of the starry six-pack.

He can make one laugh, but he makes me cry too,

He can be wildly pricey, seldom a smile for me,

Always putting me down for my lack of humour,

But then he is the one who reads my crap, never saying no.

She is the Miss Smart Pants; she is the one with the dimples,

She is the one who made me an addict to Grey’s,

She is concerned, always beyond her means, beyond her heart’s reach,

She is the second of the starry six-pack.

Always a slave to her hearts desire, sensuous at will,

But she is always the mistress of my heart-beats,

She fills my life with faith, straight from the textbook,

She is the one who tirelessly encourages me…. The love of my life.

He is the brains; he is all about the smarts,

He is the man for smooth talks, ladies and the combination,

The funny man with a bull’s eye for humour,

He is one for the future, for history, and for the present.

But he is Mr. Pricey, always dancing on his own tunes,

He is Mr. Exaggeration, cooking stories about me,

Always trying to embarrass me, stubbornness his hallmark,

He is my room-mate, my confidante, my third starry six-pack…..

She is Miss Confidence; she is Miss Do-It-All-Do-It-Right,

She has will, supreme courage and madness combined,

Always right, all the time; she always works on her own terms,

She is the Mighty Heart; she is the fourth starry six-pack.

She is my backbone, my biggest supporter,

She screams and sets me right; she is Agony Aunt par excellence,

A force of nature; workaholic forever, her fame runs wide and wild,

She is my soul mate, my favourite person on earth……

He is an icon, my ideal, my guru,

Always teaching me a thing or two,

He is Mr. Intellectual, his opinion counts forever,

He knows respect and admiration; he is the fifth starry six-pack.

He does not set the standards, he is the standard,

He knows of his influence, and he uses it well,

He is not funny, he knows it, and that makes him funny,

He is the one who will change the world; he is a man with a mission.

Sh is the final starry six-pack, the one who makes roses rosy,

She has some attitude, unbearable at times,

Her smile is sweet, her hugs warm,

But then again, she is the devil, but not the one in Prada…..

Her temper is strong, tantrums aplenty, her silent treatments are worse….

She takes care of me, pampering me now and then,

And then she punches me with her words, when it’s my bad,

She is pal I always wanted.... the one for all occasions.

So here are the starry six-pack,

You now know of my blessings,

They are my highs and my lows,

They are the starry six-pack….. My life, my best friends…

"I have always believed in numbers, in the equations and logic that lead to reason, and after a lifetime of such pursuits I ask what truly is logic? Who decides reason? My quest has taken me through the physical, to the meta physical to the delusional and back. And I have made the most important discovery of my career, the most important discovery of my life, that it is only in the mysterious equations of love that any logic or reason may be found, am only here tonight because of you, you are the reason I am, you are all my reasons. Thank you."

John Nash, 1994 Nobel Prize Ceremony

STATIC

Life gets static, and we never realise,
Life gets stuck, and we seldom think why,
So engrosed are we with percieved challenges,
We forget ourselves, and when we fall in the quick sand,
We realise that life has fallen static and so have we.
It takes that one moment for us to realise,
That one step, that one blow of wind,
It alerts us of the onging slow avalanche,
Yet we never take note of it,
Yet we unguard ourselves time and again.
And when failure strikes, deep into our flesh,
We scream in pain, silently, away from prying eyes,
And that is the time when we know we are still at the same place,
Stuck in the past, just as we were,
And the pain is not about the failure, it is about being static.
And then we look back, solemly, with some determination,
We realise that the roadblaocks were the same,
That our nemesis has not changed,
That the defeats came at the same juncture, at the same cost,
And that we have not really learnt much from them, ever....
Static as ever!