Commitment coming clean

Hi.
My name is Commitment.
I am here to come clean.

I don’t consider myself to be a negative word.
It is quite frustrating how I have, since forever, almost always been associated with negative actions
- Committing suicide, committing a crime, committing a mistake... But even in all this darkness I always had one beacon of hope – the role I played in a relationship.

But of late some people are taking this away from me.
I know I haven’t been the best of words.
I know I have been misused by many.
I know how I have unintentionally caused pain to many.
But I consider myself to bring forth promise into people’s lives, not terror.
I bring the promise of a new life.

I really don’t know when commitment and committing transformed to a word to be phobic about from being a word to cherish, a word to look forward to.
I was supposed to bring stability.
I was supposed to be the word of obligation, of trust, of not looking back because what I bring is only hope for the future.

Somehow something went wrong somewhere.
People all over the world are terrified of me.
They are terrified of using me in their sentences, terrified I might make an appearance in their conversations, terrified I might be their future.
What is it about me that people hate?
Is it the lack of change I bring forth in their mundane lives?
Is it the fear of looking back and missing freedom?

I have been used in so many negative aspects it is so easy for me to hate myself. But I love myself only because of how I bring people in love together forever.
And some people are out to ruin me.
These bunch of fools know they are in love but hate me because they don’t understand the happiness I can be capable of.
Here I am trying to come clean before you pin all the blame on me.

I am not responsible for pain and sorrow – you bring that upon yourself.
The lack of me in your lives will make you lonely, if not today then tomorrow.
Someday you will wish you had me earlier when you found the right person and had used me then instead of losing love because of your irrational fear of happiness.
This is me coming clean –
I am awesome only because of my role in bringing people together in happiness eternally.
The pessimists might think I am lying and that my thorns prick their balloons of artificial bliss.
The optimists look for rosy bushes all the way.
But the realists are the ones who understand me, the ones who know that without the thorns the roses are just not for real.
The realists know that I am for real – the raw deal.
I am what life is all about; I am why life is worth living; I am the hope for a tomorrow worth waking up to.

I wish somebody would stand up for who I am.
I wish somebody would tell these fools what I could bring into their lives.

I wish somebody would help stop this terror so that I might not be driven to ‘committing’ suicide.

This is me, Commitment, coming clean.
Now you know my side of the story.

Spellbound

I read Les miserables when I was a child. I always thought it was mesmerising - one among the unconquered beauties of literature.
I came across this song very recently though - the lyrics have literally blown me over.
I couldn't have expressed my thoughts in a better way.

I'll blog soon. Sorry to keep all of you waiting.
My excuse - I just got back from my Europe trip!

I DREAMED A DREAM - Les miserables

There was a time when men were kind
When their voices were soft
And their words inviting
There was a time when love was blind
And the world was a song
And the song was exciting
There was a time
Then it all went wrong

I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving

Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted

But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hopes apart
As they turn your dream to shame

He slept a summer by my side
He filled my days with endless wonder
He took my childhood in his stride
But he was gone when autumn came

And still I dream he'll come to me
And we'll live our lives together
But there are dreams that cannot be!
And there are storms we cannot weather

I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.

*SIGH*

Nothing short of brilliant

I stumbled across this about a year back. Somehow it slipped my mind then. I came across it again today and I decided to share it. I think it is plain brilliant.

"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it?
It makes you so vulnerable.
It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that
someone can get inside you and mess you up.
You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor,
so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different
from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...
You give them a piece of you.
They didn't ask for it.
They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and
then your life isn't your own anymore.
Love takes hostages.
It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the
darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends'
turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart.
It hurts.
Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind.
It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain.
I hate love."

- Neil Geiman

Lovey-dovey gobbledygook

I cannot believe I actually missed posting on Valentine’s.
Nothing gives me more pleasure than enlightening people on the grossly over rated feeling of undying love and I let ‘the day’ pass by without even thinking about posting once, all credit to my awfully boring yet busy life.

So I am going to post on it now.

For those of you ‘Valentines’ out there who have no sense as to the nonsense behind the February 14th, this blog takes great pride in enlightening you with the fact that you celebrate by coochie-cooing shamelessly the death of disillusioned young martyrs
– For further details ask the all knowing google or you can also resort to wikipedia (where you get to read what smart people want you to read).
If you think I actually went through the trouble of researching on the history of Valentine’s Day for the sheer pleasure of enlightening you with its insignificance – you are mistaken because I have not become so jobless (as yet!)

Frankly, I have nothing at all against Valentine’s – personally.
I have celebrated quite a few – I have had my share of memorable ‘moments’ with bright red wrapping paper, red roses, boxes of chocolates, midnight calls…
I am not sour.
I just think it is immature.

I know of people who think it is immature only because they are single.
I do not belong to that group.
I know of people who think it is immature because they are lazy to go buy gifts.
I do not belong to that group.
I know of people who think it is immature because they are awfully jealous of the awesome expensive gifts their friends have received and they have not.
I do not belong to that group.

I think it is immature because I actually think it is immature, not because I am sour.
Personally, I think it should be celebrated by kids – such immature crap is very typical of them (if you are unaware of my feelings towards miniature human beings kindly read my post on Babies)

Valentine’s is pretty much like Friendship Day or Mothers’ Day or Fathers’ Day – not only do I almost always forget it, I honestly think it is pointless remembering it.
You ought to value friendship everyday of your life – tying a stupid ugly band around your wrist is not going to strengthen any bond.
As far as Mothers’ and Fathers’ Days are concerned – children walk all over their parents every day of the year, one more day of it is not going to make much of a difference. If anything they will laugh at your sudden change in character if you don’t walk all over them.
The last thing I want to hear is my mother asking me whether I am feeling okay when I tell her I love her on Mothers’ day.

So here we have a couple Mr A and Ms B.
All they do is fight – which is quite ordinary for any couple.
At midnight Ms B starts crying and making a big fuss about Mr A not calling her up to wish her at the stroke of midnight. After a couple of hours of struggling not to mention about Mr A’s affair with hot and sexy Ms C, Mr A finally manages to get Ms B to give him a break (because after all it is Valentine’s)
And then comes the complaining about how the gifts were a disappointment, how dinners were missed, how dates were not kept, how the first Valentine’s was so different from how it is now, how things have changed, how everything is a humongous disappointment only because some fool somewhere decided February 14th was supposed to be dedicated completely to the person you have disillusioned yourself into believing you love.

Valentine’s is just an opportunity for:
- females to make a fuss
- cowards to propose
- single losers to feel lonely
- rich people to throw around money
- others to save money for gifts that go down the drain few years down the lane
- communication networks and greeting card companies to make a lot of money
- And the rest of the world to drown in the illusion of love.

I think it is immature.

If you believe you love someone, drown in the feeling everyday – you really do not need Valentine’s.
If you are not currently under the delusion of love – thank god.

Frog Prince

If you do not already know, let me let you know – I am an ardent fan of fairy tales and animated movies. This, on the contrary to what you may believe as true, is not because I believe or expect something of the sort to happen in my life. I love these stories and movies merely for the fact that they make me feel good – always.

I am pretty sure all the fairy tales are just twisted forms of reality. This post is going to be about by ‘real’ form of the Frog Prince.

For those of you who do not know the story of the Frog Prince let me enlighten you.
There are three forms of this tale existing that I am aware of. I personally like the Grimm’s version.

1) The Grimm’s version:
It begins with a princess, who is extremely spoilt and all she does all day is play with her ‘golden ball’ by tossing it up and trying to catch it. Since she is a retard, one fine day, she fails to catch it and the ball falls into a spring. There she sits and weeps – again because she is a retard.
Enter hero of our story – the ugly frog.
The smartass frog makes a deal with the retard princess and she agrees to let the frog eat with her, sleep with her and accepts the frog as her true love if the frog gets her ball back. Now the retard princess is pretty shrewd because she has no plans of keeping her promise. And hence, once she gets her ball, she runs back to her palace.
But she forgets, the hero of our story is not just an ugly frog – he is the smartass hero!
So the frog finds his way to the palace and reminds the princess of her promise. The king overhears their conversation (sneaky king!) and tells his daughter to keep her promise at all cost – the king actually makes his daughter sleep with a frog!
After three nights of the same old routine of eating form the same plate and sleeping on the same bed, the frog miraculously transforms into a handsome prince… and the rest is history.

2) The slightly modified version:
In this version the story remains the same until the frog comes to the palace. But in this version, the sight of the ugly frog and the thought of sleeping with him infuriates the princess and she flings the frog across her room. THUD!
Now, the retard psychopathic princess gets back to her senses and realizes she does not want to be a murderer; and she definitely does not want the animal rights activists hounding her. So she apologizes to the poor injured frog and kisses it.
The frog miraculously transforms into the handsome prince and he explains to her about the curse which she just broke. On his way out of her room the king sees them and Ahem! The rest is history.

3) The fairy tale version of the fairy tale:
I hate this version because it has no emotion in it.
It really has no ‘masala’.
And this is the version most of the children today know – which makes me hate it even more.
In this version the princess is this wonderful, loving, generous, meek creature who will do anything for anybody. One fine day while she is taking a stroll she sees this ugly frog weeping near a spring. She asks the frog what is wrong and he tells her he wants to be kissed – wtf!!!
Now since the princess is so wonderful, loving, generous and meek she kisses the ugly frog. The frog transforms into the prince and he asks her to marry him. The princess obviously does not know how to say ‘no’ to anybody so she agrees. The rest is history.

So that was the enlightening bit.
Now for what I deduce from these tales:
I believe the frog here represents an ugly man who is not worth much.
I believe he does not transform into any handsome prince.
I believe after spending three nights with him the princess falls in ‘love’ with him or after kissing him she falls in ‘love’ with him – probably he is amazing kisser.
And once you fall in love even an ugly frog can look like a handsome prince – because according to my very favourite Shakespeare, love is blind.

Hence there is no curse as such
– Unless you consider being born as an ugly, poor man a curse.
The miracle is just love.
Love breaks the barriers of riches and beauty in this tale.

I think my deduction is pretty awesome.
Let me know if you agree.

Crushes and missed rushes

The past few days have been more fun than I expected it to be.
I did not expect it to be fun.
And it was fun.
Hence it was more fun than I expected it to be.

I have had my share of heart breaks.
Maybe I have had more than my share, but I have had my share – that is for sure.
I have been responsible for quite a few too – some that I am proud of and others I am not too proud of.
But I do not regret any.
I am not bitter about love.
I just think love is a belief and a big deal is made about something which is not that great a deal anyway.
If you feel like reading about my thoughts about love, I have already posted them – ‘love blossoms, love continues and love wilts’.
‘Love wilts’ is my favourite among the three – that is pretty evident.

This post is not about love.
This post is about what I have missed in the past couple of years.
I miss having the rush of a crush.

If you have ever had a crush you would know exactly what I mean.
And I am talking only about crushes here
– Nothing about ones in which you dream about love, marriage, children’s names and old age.
– Nothing to do with film stars, rock stars, models or super stars.
– Nothing, whatsoever, to do with family, past or future.
That sort is pretty depressing.
If you don’t know what I am talking about it is my pleasure to enlighten you with the symptoms of the ‘rush of a crush’ syndrome.
1) You have butterflies and the whole animal kingdom in your stomach every time X looks at you.
2) Your throat always becomes as dry as Attacama desert (that is the driest desert in the world – not Sahara – I know I am smart!) every time you try talking to X.
3) You just can’t seem to talk sense to X. You know you are babbling nonsense and making a fool out of yourself but you just can’t help it.
4) You keep waiting for some sort of response from X; a message, a phone call, a date… anything.
5) Songs tend to remind you of X.
6) You start worrying about what X might think of you.
7) You hate that you are not the only one who seems to have ‘feelings’ for X.
8) You sing more often.
9) You spend more time in front of the mirror.
10) You spend hours thinking about what you will wear and what you will say when you meet X – none of which turns out the way it should.
11) You want to call X but you don’t want to look desperate.
12) You can’t help but answer the call at the first ring when X calls.
13) And you know the rest….

I think everyone has suffered from this syndrome at least once in their life.
You suffer from it usually when you are an early teenager.
The funny thing is – I miss it.

I miss having those lame crushes.
I miss making a fool out of myself.
I miss trying to hint at someone how much I like them.

Until a few weeks back I would have laughed at the thought of missing ‘making a fool out of myself’.
But now I realise how nice it actually did feel then.
We grow old too soon.
And I know more than half the people my age are ‘done’ having ‘lame crushes’.
They are probably on the lookout for that special thing called ‘love’ – no comments.
A couple of years from now I will be nothing more than a boring old hag married to a boring old man.
And then, I know for sure; I will miss having crushes – even more.

As weird as it may sound, I don’t really care who my crush is.
What I miss is the feeling associated with having a crush.
I think it is like an adrenaline rush which keeps a smile plastered on your face.
Even the thought of it makes me feel ‘alive’!

So I think it is high time I starting making a ‘fool out of myself’ and had a few ‘lame crushes’ because as far as I am concerned – I don’t have anything to lose!
And if you are not ‘committed’ as yet, I think you should too – because I am sure you will miss it soon.

As silly as it may sound - It is crush time folks!

P.S.: For all those who are ‘committed’:
- If you are in ‘love’ and happy – good for you.
- If you are in ‘love’ and unhappy – I did try to warn you!
- If you are not in love – I honestly feel sorry for you.
Being single is more fun than you thought it to be!

The last kiss

I am not a person who is easily impressed.
I take pride in that.
I am a critic by birth – critical about everything including every small fault in me.
This has made me a perfectionist.
My friends say it is because I am a Virgo, I think it is because I like giving people a hard time.

I don’t like listening to new music.
I have listened to the same set of songs by Aerosmith, Nirvana, Pink Floyd, Led Zepplin and the sort since a very long time. The ‘youngest’ bands I have heard, probably, are the Goo goo dolls, 3 Doors down and Linkin Park…
Maybe this is because I get what I want from music by listening to these same songs over and over again…

A few minutes back I was listening to the song ‘Last Kiss’. It was written by Wayne Cochran and the song is more than 45 years old. There have been many versions of this song, but the one by Pearl Jam pulls a certain string deep inside somewhere, every single time I listen to it.
The lyrics are very simple, no big words, nothing metaphorical; it is plain – straight from the heart.

I have never really ‘promoted’ any movie or music in this blog so far – and I do not plan to either. Today, when I was listening to this song again for the nth time, I felt like blogging about what it means to me.

Very few people find themselves in the dreaded position of being directly/indirectly responsible for somebody’s death. Some of them might not dread it – they might have done it with intention, while the others are tormented by it.
What is worse is when that person dead is somebody you really cared for, someone you loved.
They all say the same thing:
1) It really is not your fault…
2) Maybe his/her time had come…
3) God takes away those who are dearest to Him…
4) You must move on…
5) Time will change everything…

The truth is none of them are true.
- It really is your fault – but you can’t do anything about that. Only, if you had been able to tell one last time how much you cared but you did not or you could not and it is way too late now.
- What ‘time’ are we talking about here – Why was it not ‘your time’? Why was it not ‘my time’? Why should I have been an instrument in this ‘time’ business?
- And who decides who is dearest to God?
I hate it how people make the dead sound so much like a saint when they were just like you or me. They had their faults, but those faults were not of any significance when compared to the love we had for them. They were no saints and it is not right to make them sound like someone they were not!
- It is easy to tell someone to move on. But it never happens in a second or a minute or a day or even a month. Moving on with life is so difficult; sometimes people remain scarred for life.
- Time does not change anything. You might think lesser about the dead each day but this certainly does not mean the wound does not bleed every time you think about them.

Grieving is such a difficult process sometimes one tends to wish he did not have anyone to grieve for.
Everyone knows nothing remains forever – yet we wish it does.
That is why the human race has not died out as yet – hope.

I shall become a doctor someday; I shall be responsible for a lot of lives – every single one precious to somebody.
Many a times a death signifies the end of more than one life.

P.S.: Listen to the song if you have not yet
– ‘Last Kiss’ by Pearl Jam.

Dedicated to a friend I shall forever remember,
Merlin Elizabeth Thomas (1986-2005)

Love wilts

I am sick and tired of writing about things that make me sick and tired.
Here, I am referring to one and only one belief.
A belief that makes one believe a person is worth more than one's own feelings.
Love leaves bittersweet memories – Wtf?
Bittersweet – Why taste again? Why refer to food?
Because memories left behind by love are very alike that of a humongous breakfast?
Silly, you might think.
Is it?

I am not the owner of a broken heart. My heart is very appropriately pumping blood to all parts of my body.
I do not have any bittersweet (wtf?) memories.
I do not believe in the unbelievable.
I believe that love exists.
I believe love exists in the minds of many.
I am not a pessimist.
I am not a cynic.
I am not here to shatter your dreams made of oh so expensive crystal.
But,
Love - it wilts.

I like the word wilt.
Wilt according to me and not any dictionary means die slowly or fade away.
The word is perfect for love.
I think rather than loved, love and will love; it should be blossom, love and wilt. Wilt reminds me of some dead form of future - maybe because of the word 'will' and the 't' coming in after it.
It is a perfect word - in every sense - for love.

So love wilts - it doesn’t die, it doesn’t commit suicide, it doesn’t last eternally.
It wilts.
It always does - Always.

And so this topic comes to an end.
It dies. It commits suicide.
It does not wilt.

Love continues...

Hilarious
Simply hilarious
I, for weirder than weird reasons, think my last post was hilarious.

I; of all people dead, alive or stuck somewhere in between; writing about love is simply hilarious.
Romance, love, emotion, drama
– Never been my piece of cake (forget cake, I don’t like cake much)
– It has never been my cup of tea (but since I like black coffee better)
– It has never been my cup of black coffee with sugar.

What is even more hilarious is that it actually makes sense that nobody can seem to make sense out of it. I read the post after typing it out and well, I must say, I pity all you people who have to actually try and make sense out of it.
Life is complex as it is, love makes it more complex and here I am making things even more complex.

Poor Shakespeare – not only was he dragged into the complexity of things, he was actually belittled by me.
I wonder what he did (other than write things I question whether he understood) to deserve such an afterlife.
Sorry Shakespeare, my sincere apologies.

Well the gist of what was written yesterday was this:
Journey's end in lovers meeting - Shakespeare
Love is where life ends
Life ends in nowhere.
Hence, Love is nowhere.

Love is blind - Shakespeare
Love makes us overlook wrongs.
Hence, Love makes us think wrong.

Love is a belief created in a shallow mind in search of happiness.
Love is a belief of well being.
Love makes us sacrifice – even our life.
Hence, Love is where life ends.
Journey's end in lovers meeting - Shakespeare

It leads to the same point it began from.
It can’t be expressed simpler than this by any person dead, alive or stuck somewhere in between.
I give you my word for it.

And finally the question: Is love worth it?
Even a humongous breakfast gives you a feeling of well being (oh! It does!).
And last I heard a humongous breakfast didn’t cause anyone to sacrifice his life – Here; I refer, strictly, only to people who fall within the limits of normality according to social norms – wtf?

Next post is more about love.
And no, I am not in love.
Nobody is allowed to ask me again – nobody!

Love blossoms

Every person dead, alive or stuck somewhere in between has fallen in love.
This is my tribute to that part of everybody’s life which is more often than always misjudged, misused or even misspelt.

This post is exclusively for love blossoming.
The beginning of what ‘many’ call disaster.
Well, I don’t know of any big names among the ‘many’ but I do know many big names among those who disagree with these ‘many’.

Shakespeare wrote: Journey's end in lovers’ meeting.
I always wondered if this was romantic or not.
But now I know – for sure.

(NOTE: If you have not read the previous post this will make absolutely no sense to you.
It will have the same effect as reading utter nonsense.
And in an era such as this, when sense is very often rebuked as nonsense, I will allow no such atrocity to be committed to what I have to say/type out.
So please refrain from reading ahead if you have not read or have not understood or have not been enlightened by the previous post.
Thank you for your co-operation.
Have a nice day, unenlightened one.)

Life is a journey, as I have mentioned before – steps which I am sure lead us to the wonderful nowhere. If the journey of life ended in lovers’ meeting that would mean that love actually leads us to nowhere or rather love is nowhere.

This leads to the one and only conclusion:
Nowhere is utopia and that is where love is;
Love is utopia which is nowhere.

Is that romantic?
I think so.
Why?
Romance always has a pinch of tragedy in it (pun intended).
The tragedy here is, of course, that nowhere is not anywhere.

Love blossoms, ah yes! Like a flower it does blossom.
The question is where does it blossom?

Let us begin with: Love is blind.

Ever wondered why Shakespeare wrote in Merchant of Venice: Love is blind?
No offence to Shakespeare - a man I believe understood human emotions in all its worth - but honestly, I do not think he was enlightened enough to realise the connection between nowhere and love, yet he did write something so wonderfully apt that it is being mentioned here.

Did that actually sound like I am greater than Shakespeare?
I certainly hope so.

He writes about how lovers do not see wrongs in themselves when he writes Love is blind.
What wrongs?
What terrible wrongs?
Wrongs that have blossomed in minds – yours, his, and everyone’s but mine.
Our minds which make us believe we are in love.
Love is a belief.
Love is after all, only a belief of well being.
The belief of well being that all fools try so hard to find but do not realize is a terrible wrong of their shallow minds.
Love is a belief that blossoms in your mind, for which you might sacrifice your only journey of life to the wonderful nowhere.
And hence again what Shakespeare wrote:
Journey's end in lovers’ meeting
– The ultimate sacrifice.
Is this game your shallow mind plays on you worth it?
Is it worth the haunting memories and the taunting dreams?
It is after all just a feeling of well being.
A feeling of well being just a humongous breakfast away.


Love shall continue…