Sunday Ponderings: Existence v/s Living

Hello there,

It's been a good weekend and I haven't had any time to laze around and procrastinate. I have just got back from grocery shopping, have had a late lunch and is setting out on another trip with friends. So, I was wondering as to what this week's question should be, and when I hit a dead end, I had asked one of my friends at work, the Score card Guy to suggest a question...and he complied and suggested that I ask the following question:

If you were to turn around and look at your life, would you say it has been survival or would it have been living a full life?

My answer to the question: In some ways. my life has been survival...primarily because I am not someone who's big on taking risks...and feel worried if I would be making the wrong decision....but all those times I have taken a risk, I have realized that I felt good about it...those decisions have helped me achieve things I never thought I would and be who I am now....and when I turn back and look, it's a mix of both, with a little bit more of survival...

Now, THAT is something I intend to correct soon....Because if there's one thing life has taught me, it is that I need to live every day fully....so that some day, I can turn back and say that I've lived.

So tell me, what is your answer for me? And enjoy the rest of the weekend, y'all...

On that note, signing off...

Me

The Break Up

She sits at the coffee table…reading a random romantic story she had found online….ear plugs plugged in and a soft melody humming inside her head…She sips water from a glass which smelled strongly of whiskey, and as though the smell intoxicated her, she laughs, while in her heart, she wants to cry…she wants to cry endlessly, allowing her tears to drop into the glass she held… yet she laughs…she laughs silently…reminiscing about how she had laughed with her best friend while talking about the end of her relationship. A relationship she had clung on to for three long years. 

There was nothing hilarious but they hadn't been able to stop laughing after a point, giggling like two care free girls in their teens.  She wondered why her emotions worked in reverse, while hugging herself, resting her chin on her left arm and listening to the singer croon into her ears.

 She craved for someone to talk to, someone who would listen to her, who would sit by her patiently, and would even let her cry onto their shoulder. she found herself praying hard for someone, anyone, who would talk to her, listen to her talk, make her laugh, keep her company…if not nothing, then at least sit by her silently, letting themselves immerse effortlessly in the comfortable silence. 

She feels something crumpling inside her, bit by bit, turning into gravel and dropping into a deep pit with no end. She try crying, praying aloud and keeping herself engaged in meaningless activity, browsing aimlessly through multitude of websites without really reading or looking through any of it…a little voice in her mind whispering the whole time that she was trying to get herself detached from the depressing loneliness that’s eating into her…

When the little spurts of energy hit her during the interim of gloom and depression, she laughs and does a little play act, brushing her tears off, about what happened at office, or what she is thinking, or what is worrying her to the absent audience, to the invisible listener, to herself, to the void in the room. She swigs the wine she has poured herself, and laugh yet again, a laugh that sounds a little bit crazy even to her. 

The song plays on and on, put on the repeat mode, as the intoxication from the wine hits her nerves. She feels herself being inebriated with the wine.  She sense the sadness melting…and is aware that this…this sense of calm, peace is fleeting but choose to cling on to it…and set out on a walk into the cold, misty evening, hoping that the walk will take her away from her troubles, from her worries, her woes, and her life for a little time.

Sunday Ponderings: Achilles' Heel

Hello everyone....I hope you are having an amazing weekend, with a lot of time to relax, to read, to write, to sing, to dance, to enjoy the day and have fun. I hope the weather's looking up in all the cold corners of the world, and every one's feeling better, and finding the small and big problems nagging you getting resolved...Also, I'd like to thank people who have stopped by this li'l blog of mine and shared words of encouragement and love...Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!

So, here's the question for this Sunday...What is the one thing you wish you could change about yourself? I don't mean any of the physical attributes...rather, one of those habits that you wish you could break out of. Something that niggles you and others around you alike. What's the one thing that's your weak point, your Achilles' heel?

What about me, you ask? Well, if you have already read my previous entry here, then you'll know that it's my difficulty in controlling my temper. My apparent inability to control my temper, and worse still, control my tongue is one thing I wish I could change. And I'd add to the list my inability to say 'No' gracefully, and the tendency to feel guilty about something I said, or something I didn't do, or some personal goal I failed to achieve. So there, these are what I'd call my Achilles' heel(s). 

Now that I have confessed about my weak points,tell me what yours' is and make me feel better...

Happy Weekend everyone. Have fun, and be safe! 

Toodles. 

Me

When Anger Rules!

Dear God,

I sense emotions creating havoc inside my head…rather a single emotion, anger, shaking the very base of my being. I try to be rational, to think before I speak, to try and act cool, calm and composed…but with every passing moment, I sense the temper rising within me, shooting up swift. And before I can walk away, or count up to ten, or take deep breath and pacify myself, I sense anger exploding from within, like piping hot lava gushing and rushing from an erupted volcano…red, hot and scalding anyone who comes in its way. 

I sense my eyes locking on the wrong doer, the source of my anger…my jaws set, my eyes staring into hers, forcing her to look away. Breathing heavy, I mutter words in a hissing tone that sounds like those of a cold blooded murderer. At least, it feels that way in my mind.  I realize that I am trying to talk less, not because I don’t want to, but because I sense the beginning of the familiar stutter wedging itself into my utterances. I know that the angrier I get, the more I am going to stumble over words, my brain having frozen in the fury.

A part of my brain sees the target, wide eyed like a deer caught in headlights…and I see the gradual change in her posture….the shoulders slump, eyes avert, words come out in a voice laced with panic…attempting to fix the situation, trying anything that would save herself from the wrath that’s being directed at her…

 I feel the ticking of a lone nerve somewhere close to my temple…and I sense the onset of yet another headache…the aftermath of allowing anger to trample over good sense…the result of allowing anger to have a free reign. I know that this headache is going to keep me awake tonight, and feel angrier…this shouldn’t have been…Somewhere in my mind, the villainous thought creeps in that if I am going to end up in pain, I’d better make the trip worth it…

I look at her again, and see her looking at me wide eyed,  her hands clasped together  tight. I pause for a minute, wondering in my mind, if I look like the fire spitting dragon to her. Do I want to be that scary being who would take her day from good to awful with my words so powerful it might scar her for a very long time, I wonder. I look at her and realize that it’s okay…mistakes happen…nothing that cannot be fixed…nothing that’s going to end the world. And in an attempt to soothe my nerves, and hers , I give a shaky smile. 

I hear myself telling her it’s alright, as long as the mistake is not repeated. And as though it would help erase the guilt, I rub my forehead and walk away, thanking the invisible Angel who helped me hold my tongue and praying that some day, I’ll have enough sense to let patience prevail over anger.

 Signing Off,

The Irritable One

Reposting: Pathos of Miss.Muffinkins

This was a post I had written when I started blogging. I thought I'll try and get away with re posting it....bear with me and my tardiness people...

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Dear God,

 I have heard my owner occasionally comment that I have a mind of my own. I am glad that she looks at me as an independent individual and is proud of my accomplishment. It has taken me years of dogged perseverance to earn that title and the disgruntled respect (the way I'd like to interpret the helpless look on her face while trying to combat  me) that comes with it.Most of the days  I try not to get in her way much... but then I'm not ashamed to admit that almost always, I do not give up without a fight. On all the days she braid me into a tight plait (read that as almost every day), I promise myself that I will act like a good little lamb, thereby tricking her into letting me free occasionally. And once I am sure that I am let loose, I create havoc in her generally undisturbed, non messy life. I flail around at the slightest hint of a breeze making my presence known and after all the fun and frolic, get myself to resemble a ball of yarn at the end of a kitten's play time.

On days she make the mistake of using a little extra shampoo, I rejoice...because that's the time I can dress myself up... I  have tried on the Noodle head, Haystack and Electrocuted styles so far based on how far the shampoo bottle was tipped..And when the shampoo bottle is tipped a bit too much, I choose my favorite look of all seasons, The Modern Medusa look... On the best of my days, I would put Medusa to shame..much to my amusement and her displeasure. On such days, she touches me as though touching a hornet's nest and attempts the Herculean task of untangling me. This makes me lose a large number of my army and leave me anguished; I surrender promising to hit back again.

What follows these reckless episodes of mine are  her lamenting tales....She calls me "Frizzy"...what a pathetic nick name!(I would have liked something like Happy...or Sassy...or Princess...Muffin would have been fine too....but then, whatever!) And that's not all, she goes on and on about how she'd cut me short as soon as an opportunity presented itself. But I know that these are empty threats...If she didn't have the heart to part with me for the last 15 years, I doubt she'd do it now...Ha! 

Then comes her attempts to tame me, which ranges from applying conditioners, serums and multitude of oils to beer, honey, avocado and eggs?!? (ewww.....blech!) ... in an attempt to turn me into glossy and glamorous from wild and boorish. THIS, I look at as a gross act of injustice inflicted on the Prisoner of War, a.k.a me and I plot my revenge silently. And I get my chance when my owner decides to step out... as she preens and primps herself and inflicts me to jets of hot air, iron plates and hair rollers, in the hope of flipping the new shiny, bouncy me with a modest smile and leaving the on-lookers gasping in awe,  I lay low waiting for my chance... and when it comes....I play the Dead Dog trick. That's right, I voicelessly revolt against her interference and lay limp, refusing to budge, indifferent to her pleas and prayers, until she's forced to tuck me under a hat or put me up in a bun...

 Two or three days at this trick, and I know that the little shampoo bottle will come out of the cupboard and be tipped again in my favor, and then I will arise, with a voiceless battle cry, claiming my freedom again...

Right now, I am being held captive yet again after another attempt at upheaval. And here I am, the sufferer of insult, injury and injustice, waiting for my chance to freedom again. The only thing that keeps me going is the infinitesimal joy I get when I look at the haggard look on the face of my nemesis and hear her doleful sighs.

And God, and any other well meaning, kind hearted people who happen to be reading this letter, do not, I plead, do not, do not, do not fall for her conniving ways and help her in the wicked cause of taming and mastering me.

signing off

Pretty Muffinkins (that's what I choose to call myself hereupon)

Addendum: SOS from a distressed frizzy hair owner: Help!!!! Please, please Help!!!

Sunday Ponderings!

Just got back from Bryan Adams' Show which happened in my city...the feeling is inexplicable...it was a dream come true for Prince Charming...so was it for me...It would be an understatement to say that I'm on Cloud Nine...!

It's Valentine's Day tomorrow...so Happy Happy Happy Valentine's Day to all you lovely people out there...!

So the question for this Sunday then? Who was your first Valentine?

What about me, you ask? Well, Valentine's Day was not a popular concept around here before a few years and so was the idea of confessing your love on Valentine's Day. My earliest memory of Valentine's Day is reading about it somewhere...and spending Valentine's Day in the company of my friends...! My first Valentine's Day was a bracelet my best friend gifted me...by a weird twist of fate, that friend ended up being my Prince Charming...

So what's your story for me this time?

Am all ears...

Toodles

Me

There Should Be Someone

There should be someone to tell you it's alright...

There should be someone to tell you it's not end of the world...

There should be someone to give you a silent hug...

There should be someone to sit with you when you bawl your eyes out...

There should be someone with a shoulder to lean on...

There should be someone to just listen when you vent your frustrations...

There should be someone to tell you you're good...

There should be someone to love you even when you don't...

There should be someone to help you dream...

There should be someone to help you live your dream...

There should be someone to wipe your tears...

There should be someone to  to push you to do you best...

There should be someone to correct you when wrong...

There should be someone to show you the right path...

There should be someone to hold your hand and walk by you...

There should be someone to laugh out loud with...

There should be someone who says "I've faith in you"...

 There should be someone who you can call 'yours'...

I wrote this when I was feeling quite low yesterday..there have been a few worries nagging me, which I have been trying to sweep under the carpet and look all breezy and sunny and be the girl with a skip n a hop.

Why I wrote this, I'd never understand...it looks like a random writing with no beginning and no end...Do I feel like redoing it...of course, I do! Am I going to, of course, I'm not...

Coz this is a part of my heart that I poured into this little babbling...which I dedicate first to Prince Charming because he, with his caring words made me think these thoughts and be thankful that I had him in my life...and then, to every one who has been this 'someone' for me at some point in my life...

Happy Friday, everyone!

Me

Something To Ponder On...

Hokay...remember how I had asked what you see when you look into the mirror...you had told me about how you see confidence, confusion, sometimes fear, love, gratitude....a motley of emotions, every one of them meaning a real big deal to all of us. I enjoyed reading all the answers so much so that I thought why not I ask another one this week...and so here's the one for this week...

Since we are in February, the Month of Love, let's talk about...well, what else, Love....I read a post here about whether selfless act is true thing and it got me thinking....and my question is...do you believe in Selfless Love? And if you do, who do you think would be capable of it?

I thought a bit about it myself and I personally believe that all of us are capable of it...but if I had to give a one word answer it would "Yes". And for the second question, my mind right now comes up with "God, Mothers and Dads (There, the list's amended) and Pets."... 

You are welcome to add to the list, and tell me what you think...

I hope all of you have had an amazing weekend.

Toodles

Me

The Green Eyed Monster

The green eyed monster, the three eyed monster,
Jabs through my heart, my mind, flashing eyes, color of jade.
I struggle, I scream, writhe in pain,
He torments, sniggers, pulls hard on the mental chords.
The victim, wide eyed, looks on at me,
As a faltering smile, I stick, quite not reaching my eye.
My heart whispers, reeking in pain,
“Hold on, be good”, - the snap of a whip,
Cracks, the monster looks, sneering, jeering.
I feel the poison filling, seeping in my veins,
Hatred fills my heart, as my nails dig into my palms.
My victim, “The Envied”, moves on, unharmed,
As my heart, shattered, a cobweb, quivers with pain.
I pick up pieces, a puzzle, my thoughts,
In vain I try, to hold them, lock them in place.
Ragged breath, the bitter taste, I swallow,
As I see, hatred killing “the hunted” in my mind’s eye,
- My heart and my soul dying along.
The monster whispers, “You are mine, now and forever”...
My soul, shriveled, lifeless cries out aloud.
Then, a soothing touch, I feel on my heart,
“The angel, Selfless Love, smiles, holds my hand.
“Release me, I beg, my heart pleads,
“You will be fine”, the voice, tinkling music, whispers...
A fragrant zephyr washes over me,
A golden glow, now my armour, engulfs me, baths me free.
I smile, the warmth seeping in, binding my heart with it,
And I see, the green eyed monster, the three eyed monster melting away.
I smile at victim, a friend in making, hunted no more,
The angel, my beacon of light; weapon against my foe, the green eyed monster.