At that moment, all I could see was your eyes and the promise they held,
The beauty of the world was no comparison to the beauty of the future

Not all men are born equal.
Some are born as women.
And hence cannot exercise the option.

Love meant to happen

When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew - Shakespeare

I got up late today. Like really late .
10 mins later I was running to catch the last bus.
I turned around the corner and ran flaying my arms and just made it.
Huffing and puffing i get on to the bus , smiling as is the custom here and said a bright good morning.
The bus driver was a middle aged chinese guy, a tiny person who looked like an unlikey driver.
"Please Be on time for the bus."
'Eh?' I was sure i misheard.
The look of disgust more pronounced he repeated, " Please Be on time for the bus."
That was the first conversation I had today. and it turned the whole day blue for me.
I dont react well to criticism. Specially when I am trying hard.
Am I at fault here? and in the many other situations?
Where I attempt to read the expressions ? To understand what he is thinking by the way his mouth twitches, by the way his eyes narrow, by the quick flash of anger he hides, by the 'I cant belive u are doing this again' expression.
And because of my pride in human judgement, I let it hurt me. I think I know what he is thinking and maybe I do. I feel like a little girl again who just wants the appreciation. I wish it would all be made alright. I try to read a different look now, Search for the tenderness.
And then I Let the defense kick in as I withdraw into my shell. Bring about the deliberate freezing in my words. Avoid eye contact . Let the anger simmer coz being angry is better than being sad.
And then when I can lock myself up i let it flow.

Today is a day of uneasiness. I catch myself shaking my head around ; somewhere in the subconcious maybe I hope I can gert rid of all the thoughts that plague me today. I have had this feeling before. Except that then I dint know why. Since I met him, I now know it was lonliness. I no longer get the I dont know whats wrong feeling. Except today. But its differernt coz I know. Its probably the sky diving feeling. I feel myself hurtling towards something. It could be good. or maybe not. All I know is that its not mine. The landscape is not one I dreamt about. It is not the dark abyss which contains the beauty of the unknown. Its the prettiness of the expected. And I rue the lost time . When the unexpected was within reach. And I dint appreciate it. Now I know the future. Of how life has been planned for me. I close my eyes and imagine. See myself as the little girl squatting between shrubs. I reach out , but its long gone. I could stare into space forever watching that image. But am I not repeating the same mistakes again. Of living in a different time. Can I drag myself back to today and to what it is supposed to be ?

More than Susan Boyle

Susan Boyle is the new sensation .. .an incredible performance on 'Britains got talent' .. Sort of the underdog coming victorious .. more than 3 million views. Its a heart rendering performance which made me completely emo :) .  As usual multitude opinions, and because I am too bored to connect them together  I am just going to list them out.

First since I am so much a lyrics person i did look up the song. And it is such a sad song ... I guess some of the tears in  the audience could be attributed to the song. 'I dream a Dream'.

Second the song is from  'Les Miserables'.  Bought back fond memories. No, I have never read the book. Every summer vacation grandpa used to read out bits from classics in his amazing library as bed time stories. 'Les Miserables' soon become a favorite , so much so that I never could read the book.

Third, the prejudice based on looks. And the kindredship we feel when an ugly person makes it. Kind of ironice and yet complimentary isn't it.  

Signing of with the song which could make ne one depressed :) ( ya that was a forced smilie) 

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 hope apart
And 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
That we will live the years 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.

கன்னதி

He calls me by this name.

Among other names. But this one is special. 

In a lanuage I understand but vaguely. It is not a traditional nickname. Or atleast not one I have heard before. I can best define it as a combination of two words. But words from which all the nuances have been chopped off. What remains is just the emotion. It starts off with devotion and then suddenly twists into this arrogance which underlies his ownership. 

I wonder if he feels this name is more special than the others. If he realises that this is more than a sweet nothing?

When I hear him say it I realize this is for real. 

Promise. Assurance. Confidence. Tenderness. Maybe even love.

And when he is not around I replay it in my mind , perfecting his tone in my imaginations. 

Again and again. Till I can be almost sure that he is next to me. That I need to but open my eyes to find him. 

Thus hidden in my name there exists the summons to him. And to all the beauty of the future.

Growing up

Long ago I thought I was getting old. 

Too old to have a life without destination. 

Too old to live without cornerstones.

Then I got it all. 

Now I dont want to grow up. 

To exchange dreams for practicalities. 

Or to trade childish tantrums for meaningful conversations.

I thought that love was a fuzzy state of euphoria.

Looks like I am just beginning to learn what it is all about.

So I haven't blogged for a long time. Or orkutted. or facebooked. Or replied to mails. 

Nothing. Nada. 

And you have noticed it. And questioned it. 

Nonchalant replies was all you got. 

How could I explain the urge to hide things. 

To keep them close to my heart. 

For fear that bringing it out in light would maybe ruin its perfection.

The Princess Diary

" heylo ? "

" hallo princess ! "

The word invokes myrid memories.

A childhood belief. Dad tossing me up in the air. Squeals of laughter. ' kanmani '  he calls me. Yes i believe then I am a princess.

Me and my sis . grannys places. cuddled and cozyed up. kumar chitta , sudhi chitta and  kutti chitta at my beck . A child spoilt rotten . Of course I am a princess.

Later, The good student . The obedient kid . Cocooned in my world where i wasnt allowed to cross roads alone.  Princess again.

The bharatnatyam dancer. decked in age old jewellery . the first performance in the temple. proud parents. 

The bookworm. Lost in the fiction I read.  The  world of dreams where all happened as I willed .

My first crush. My best friend.  'So what if u r his  girl friend, I am going to be his friend forever'  . 

College. The attitude that is expected from ' the girl from delhi ' .  

Work. ' Enabling Transformation'.

Masters. perfect gpas. darling friends.

The world is my oyster.  Princess still.

And now ?

can I be the princess you dream of ? Having been a virago for so long , would it be an easy transformation ? To be the slim doe eyed beauty? Polished to turn heads. I have been unkempt hair and loud laughters for too long. And It scares me . More than I could ever tell you . The knowledge that I would have to change. and the fact that you would never know that because seen through the facade i am already there.