Wanted to Write on…

So, I have been meaning to write. Write on a lot of things. On feelings, on events, on the lack of events. I have been meaning to write….…

about the time when you know you need to get a haircut, to trim it down, but are too lazy to go and get it done. Also to not do it as you have been told of all the fancy places that get you the best hairstyle that suits you just right. And this somehow makes the place you have been getting your hair done for ages now, not right enough. Been meaning to write on information overload. …about the time when you are told not to come, but you just cannot not go. And the relief and appreciation that you see when you do go, against what was told, and find it strange, and interesting at the same time, that how we don’t really care about looking weak and vulnerable in front of people we don’t really know (when we can’t help it, of course!), but how we hate, just hate, being in the same position in front of our loved ones, the ones we have been protecting till now. But deep down, how we wish for them to be around nevertheless. …on how you find it silly to feel the need to cry. And yet don’t. How you wish you could change the world for that one person there, but can’t. And then cry. Cry for not knowing what’s happening, for not knowing what to do, for having to trust people who seem so reckless and cry because this is not how you want it to be. Cry, not in front of people who will want to comfort you, but amidst people who just stare and give you way to pass. And how the tears shake you up for a long time. …on how it is to have to bid farewell over a phone. And feel like there is much to say, and yet go silent and realize as you put the phone down that you may never see this person, and the next, and the next, again. You won’t for sure for the several years to come. And then just quietly wish that all the things that were said in mockery during the careless college days better come true one day. Soon. Tickets to be sent to attend weddings, chartered planes to pick you up, grooms to be decided over some teleconference and endless gifts to be bought, businesses to be started, dreams to be achieved. Better come true! …on how wonderful it is to suddenly realize it is not you alone against the world around. It is not you alone who sees the world from the same angle and to have a friend to nod in agreement to all your crazy ideas and for you to able to do the same. …about how you get goose bumps when you find a picture you want to be a part of. Of some moment in the future you look forward to. And then get a shudder realisation that that it just may not be as perfect for you, but you want it anyway. And you know you won’t compromise for anything less. Not at all. Write about how you want to jump ahead and reach that moment already, and yet know you are not prepared, not just yet. …on the positive side of what was happening. On you sitting down and talking endlessly for hours, after a long time. It might have been to not let any awkward silence creep in between, or it might have been for the sheer joy of talking to the same man you kept talking and talking to when I was a little girl. On finding the moment and the things to talk about and the effort to talk, just talk, on and on, now, like two good old friends. The irony of it, and the amazement. …on how decisions are made to strengthen the management but how the human factor, the emotional side of it all, is forgotten. Just like that, as if it didn’t matter, as if once we stepped in, we ceased to be humans altogether. …on how life suddenly starts making sense to you again, just like that, in a simple moment, after trying endlessly to put everything into the right perspective. When suddenly you go “aaha” and then, you just start to breathe with ease again. These are the things I wanted to write about. And a lot more as well. But it just didn’t feel right when they were supposed to be written. It was something like the times when you don’t share the things you want to speak out to the person in front of you because you get a feeling that the person does not get what you are saying. Not in the way it is supposed to be understood and felt. So instead of taking the risk, you just keep mum. And here, it was more to do with my own ability to articulate, to talk to myself and understand myself. And so instead of risking not putting into words what it was that I wanted to express, fearing that I might not be able to do justice and not find the right words and not express everything the way they were supposed to, and fearing I would not be able to forgive myself for my incompetence at that point, I didn’t write. However, these are the things I wanted to write about.