Parallel Universes

And, no, I do not mean the celestial line-up around the Sun!

I mean all those people all around us. Lives lived. Lives lost. Again, lives lost here does not imply death of a person. Just death of a relationship. In whatever form it may have earlier existed.

I recently became consciously aware of these parallel universes. So far the world as I saw it was a 1000-D maze of randomization where people moved randomly at varying speeds. Only now I am drawn to the conclusion that it is really planes - do not confuse them with straight lines. They are fluid and flexible. People on other planes can never get a full view of your plane - they might get glimpses at best. It is really complicated. Or so I think.

There is a mother daughter duo that choose to inhabit the entrance of our building. It's pretty freaky. And so recently they were made to move out, permanently. I still see them hanging around sometimes. That is what got me thinking. While they were there or not, I kinda didn't care much either ways. They didn't imply fear or harm to me in anyway. I could safely choose to ignore them. After all, its Bombay.

I had some of my own dilemmas of heart versus head as I stepped out the other day and happened to have an extra minute of waiting when I noticed them. This time they were just hanging outside a closed shop. The mother was in a wheelchair. It must be really I bad I thought given the fact that they do have a son who returns home everyday. They can be somewhere else and they were still here. Why?

That is when the realization stuck me. They too faced a head versus heart dilemma. The head would obviously have them move in with their son and his family and "adjust". Whatever their reason, the heart wanted to hold on its own a bit longer. Even if it came down to basic existence. The choices they made still didn't make sense. Not to me. That is why they belong in another plane which I only catch glimpses of. I still wonder would you really rate pride over survival in a city of hardened hearts? By the way, the hardened heart is another heart versus head debate which I shall take up later on.

This then led to the next thought. Recently, I have tasted something similar. A prized and extremely close to my heart relationship no longer exists or is on the verge of it. Almost. I am not sure what to make of it.

Frankly, I don't trust easily. Prior to this one exception, I have never believed in the concept of best friends. There are friends and then there are closer friends. Closer friends being people you can trust and in most cases know more about you than more other people or friends. Best friends would be those who you would trust you life with and no, you don't trust your life with everyone. Think about it.

Random strangers can only see the exterior areas of your personal plane. Family and friends would experience your plane at several touch points. However, they may or may not really have a clear understanding of your plane. The family is variable and clearly will have greater interaction and intrusion. Best friends would be almost in the same plane as you with the highest level if intrusion and interaction. Almost. But you will always be in your plane alone.

Best friends are thus intrusive. Gaining access and insights like no one else. When such relationships do not work, they leave you squirming. There has been invasion, a breach. But the plane is now empty. And it is not as simple as thieves entering and exiting. You do not have emotional bonds with thieves. Exactly that brings out a head versus heart angst. Your head logically wants intruders out and less vulnerability. The heart demands love and warmth. Having a best friend in the first place means you allowed the heart to win and accepted the warmth. You opened up to vulnerability. Is it worth?

Now, I have the plane to myself. Will/should I allow the intrusive plane back in again is a raging heart versus head debate to me right now. Maybe I should or maybe I should not. The head and heart are both right in their own spaces.

What would you do?

The Written Word

I have been addicted to the written word as far back as I can remember!

Books, magazines, words that create a thousand new worlds - never fail to amaze me. I still read and wallow into new worlds which always adapt me as a welcome listener as the stories weave themselves around me and together we reach the high points of castles in the air. Oh, the exhilaration!

I take the local train to get to work everyday. When I am not reading I like to simply watching the milling masses of people all around me and oblivious to me! People all around me. Ladies of all ages, earphones plugged in, listening to music - few enjoy those rhythms. Some talk to their train buddies or travel companions. Some bargaining and buying cheap stuff off ware sellers. Some just looking away everywhere and no where in particular - their eyes seeking answers hidden to the crevices of human brain constantly holding back a smile or maybe fighting the salty water from seeping that regularly collects at the edges of their eyes.

And some read.

Reading here is not exactly inclusive of the last minute preparation or repetition test or exam. It is not even inclusive of those reading technical books or school/college text books or reference books. I speak of those who read for pleasure. Those who read because a book calls out to them. They just need to know. The need to know what happens in the next chapter, next page, next line. Those who cannot put the book down.

I have noticed people and their expressions when they read - totally engrossed in the storyteller's art. The feelings cannot hide. The hero of the story never hides. You got a duty to fulfill, another life in the wings that awaits you. A life that is not so ordinary or maybe more ordinary. Common solutions to uncommon experiences and vice verse.

Here is my question: When you read, when you are the hero or the bystander in the story - how does the story change or affect you? Does it make you any braver, less hypocritical, more open to ideas, more close to relationships? Does the book really leave you when you move from one book to another. When does a book really affect you - touch your heart? Even when it does touch your heart - what does it really do to you?

I like to think books affect us all differently. We are different and unique. What we see, seek and go through in our lives are all same and yet unique. When on a beach - we all have different feelings - some feel warmth, some love, some eternity, some hope - the idea is that it does not leave you unaffected. You cannot be indifferent to the sea/ocean. Similarly for books. You can love them or hate them - you cannot read them and pretend it didn't happen. The effect it has on you will differ from person to person based on personal learning  affects, effects, experiences, sympathy, empathy, nature, behavior and so on.

So when two different people going through two different types of life expectation and experiences are reading the same lines from the same book would it be weaving similar stories? Would the warmth from those knits and knots feel the same? Would it pinch in the same places?

When authors write books is it more important to tell the story? Or do they even need to think the story will create different weaves and interpretations that even they might not have thought of?

What do you think?

The mystery of relationships!

One of my close relatives began their journey towards the most holiest pilgrimage in Islam, Hajj, last weekend. Its ritualistic for close family and friends to wish you well for the journey and experiences.

People parting, crying, making each other smile, big bear hugs and so on. I am not one for these. And yet, watching everyone else got me thinking. The feelings that bind us together are they even real?

I am not exactly high on relationships - family or friends. People who know me well will vouch for and against the same. While I can be absolutely loving and caring when for those whom I love & care, there are times I refuse to communicate for long periods. If you are really close, I hope it does not bothers you for you understand this is how I am! (Thanks a ton for still loving and accepting me!)

Anyhow, let me bring back my forever meandering thoughts... 

The fabric of our lives always make for interesting stories. They may tatter and tear, modified to meet needs, but they remain true for a long long time to come. Get passed down through generations. This also explains  how we as a society keep changing and yet there are things that never change.

So, while we know we love our friends and family, is it really all the same? We fight. Even the most politically correct woman/man will need to raise voice or action every once in a while. We fight for need, greed, survival, revival, love, hate or even just because. We fight because we are scared and terrified. Scared we will loose something that we believe is precious. But fear only begets fear! Who hasn't felt the pangs of another kind of fear once one is subdued? So we do fight when we are together!

What is it about good byes? Why does it hold the power of forgiveness, breaches the hardest dams of human emotional hold backs, the yearnings of never letting go and bouts of overwhelming love and remorse? Why can't we love unconditionally when we are together? Why is it so important to fight when we are together? Where does that one-up-man-ship disappear when its time to let go?

Or is it just another act? When we know we stand on the threshold of good byes might as well not break hearts and spill over, feel lighter within and sleep peacefully for doing the right thing and not letting might overcome right?

And then again, I would choose not to think so. Separation is always painful. Its almost like letting a part of yourself walk away and free, never knowing if the relationship will see the light of another day. But not always. That is why these questions. Not all relationships are built that strong. So definitely some of those emotions might be real; however, there would those otherwise too!

What is real and what is fake? Maybe the right answer is an adjustment in itself, and rightly so! We are who we choose to be; we are all free beings. It has and will always be a perspective. To each one his own!

Do you agree?

Women in India

Just another day in the busy saga called India.

In a country of a few billion, what are a few negative incidents - no different than the pickles lying next to our dal-rice. After all, its a country where most of the population is still struggling at the base of Maslow's hierarchy.

The government, apart from minting and swindling money, is busy trying to provide food, clothing and shelter to everyone first. The corporates are busy squeezing employee hours and minting money. Every now and then they wake from their slumber, conduct some CSR and go their way. The middle class is busy pretending to try to grow, while most of them tend to stay where they were. The rich are busy finding / discovering / inventing new ways to stay busy.

More or less, everyone is doing what they can do. No one has the time, money, energy or inclination to do more than what they need to.

Who needs to care about a few deaths and a few mistreatment and in-human behaviour?


This is precisely the time when the first thing most of us come up with is, "It's the government's responsibility".  I don't think so. I believe, a country is who its citizens want it to be. The precise state of our country is just a mirror image of who we are, what we have become and more importantly, where we are headed!

So, when incidents like the one in Guwahati happens. We create a furor around it, blabber away for a couple of days and then go back to our coffees and conversations. In fact, in quite a sadistic manner we start looking for the next big scoop of news - old is boring. We need more. Something / someone else to talk about.

And why not?

Guwahati is in a far away, almost forgettable corner of the country. When there are bigger issues like death by Maoists, terrorist, internal conflicts, hunger and nature, hooligans do not seem to feature too high on the list.

I have a bigger concern. It's not a problem at Guwahati alone.

A few days back, I was passing Andheri station (one of the busiest work hour local train junctions in Mumbai). To the uninitiated, the place is maddening. There are people everywhere and constantly moving. Those getting off are rushing towards bridges and exits. Those entering the platforms are rushing to catch their train and grab a seat. Simply put, everyone is just rushing about, especially at peak hours.

And among the crowds that day, while waiting for my own train to make an appearance, I happened to notice something that made me question the perception of safety in Maximum City. As I was watching a woman dressed in traditional Indian wear, office bag on her shoulder, was making her way through the crowds and moving towards one of the bridges. There being too much rush, she chose to walk nearer to the edge of the platform. As my train rolled, I watched as the woman tried to get further away from the train.

She moved a bit too late. Even as she tried blending in the crowd, a hand purposely stretched out and whacked her. I will never forget the look on her face. I would describe it as stunned. A few of those walking around screamed obscenities at the person, which made the woman more conscious. The woman clearly figured the damage was done and as the train rolled over and new crowds mixed in, she simply lowered her head, walked a bit faster and did her best to blend into the crowds unnoticed. The moment when the woman got hit on, infuriated me. I feel ashamed to say I did nothing myself. The rushy life of Mumbai soon sucked up my thoughts and it was a lost incident like many other that catch my attention, till the Guwahati outrage, brought it back.

I have questioned myself. Should I not have rushed to the woman's side? Did that eve teaser not deserve to be publicly dragged and taught a lesson that he or others like him dare not repeat? Why did I not bother? More importantly, why did the woman herself not bother? More thoughts brought out more questions. What could she have really done? It was not the woman's fault - unless you want to call her walking on this platform an error on her part! She was clearly not dressed provocatively. She was out in broad day light. Earning a living, like every human deserves too. Yet she went through what she went through.

I have since then stopped often, stared at the mirror and questioned myself. That girl could have been me. I rush about, do what I got to do, live a life where I can always hold my head up in public. Why would I deserve to hide my face or hang my face in shame because someone else is so blatantly shameless?

Is it really a woman's fault that she is popularly considered as weaker sex? We are way stronger than men in so many more ways. We work longer, harder and still are caring and take care of families. Is it only an Indian-men-mentality? I know I am generalizing right now and I am glad I know loads of good men too. The kind who respect women and would step up to help them, if the need arises, not molest them when they are down on the ground.

This lead to another area of probing. Maybe, its the way we treat those whom we consider below us. I have yet to see someone who misses a chance at oneupmanship over those in a tight situation, even if so momentarily. Those who do (thankfully I do know a few!) are a dying breed.

Are we really such a frustrated lot?

Stepping into Saturday!

Early morning Earthlings!! I just stepped into Saturday a little while ago.... a tiny, soft-footed step. A thought that has been bothering me for a while now.... and honestly enough, I don't even think I shall have any answers so soon. When do we know a person is a stranger? Technically, the way a human brain functions, or let's say, the way we have been taught - a stranger is a person we do not know. So, how do we know someone? Or when do we truely know someone? Do people who have known each other for years, really know each other? Can one know another in the look of the eye? What is it? What does it take? Why is it different everytime? There can be a million questions just surrounding this... but that is irrelevant. The important thing is the understanding. I now believe, we can never really know someone... Even someone very close, like our parents or siblings.... I have my reasons. Firstly, the true meaning of the word knowing lies in the fact that we should be able to reasonable predict the behaviour in certain circumstances. However, I have also discovered through self experimentation that we can change our behaviours to a certain reasonable extent. Do the unexpected. But then, it must be planned. In moments of true adversity, you mostly do your best. So, coming back to the topic. We can know someone and not really know them. Or we may have never seen that person and yet we can bond like we were never seperated since birth... Why is that so? What is that crucial connection? Why do we feel so comfortable with some people? And why is it that we can't stand some others? Some of our answers may lie in our past. Others are actual indices towards our future. The way ahead. The way that we passed points towards the way that we choice. We say that we always have a choice, but do we really? I am not sure. I have never been very sure about this. Maybe, its Providence that we should discover this in the way of our lives - that is when we truely appreciate the beauty that lies within us, around us. And at that precise moment, we realize how beautiful everything is.... and that is also the moment that we truly, madly, deeply fall in love with our selves!