Thunder and Lightning

The lockdown phase in India has been going on for a while and these days it seems small things can trigger real nostalgia. I have always enjoyed rains in India because I stayed in places where we would need them pretty badly. The hot days of central India or the hot-and-humid days of east India, all make you yearn for some rain and cool breeze.

Today they came, after day-long foreplay of humidity and stillness. Eventually, I could hear the music of distant rumbling thunder, and just like that, I drifted back to Texas. Nostalgia wove herself around me and now I just have to ramble about it.

I remembered... 2019 (somewhere in April I think), the famous Texas heat was making herself cozy. I was holed up inside my apartment. That heat is not my fascination. At some point though, I realized the community pool was rather quiet for a weekend. And the sun was not glaring in through the shutters. It was instead a cool light. Curious, I looked outside. Sure enough- I saw the tree leaves rustling in a good breeze. Very far away the sky was not a summer blue. With every passing minute, the horizon started getting covered with this ghoulish grey blanket. Soon a heavy layer of cloud canopied the entire community. Everything went still. Even the community mocking bird, who sang incessantly through the day and even throughout the night, shut up when the stillness drew. 

This sudden hope-of-rain drew me out on the patio. I checked my patio-plants and it looked like they were anticipating some relief from the scorching heat too. 

You probably know that light travels faster than sound. And there it was, in the horizon... a crisp sharp thick bolt of lightning. Then the sound followed. Not a gentle distant rumbling. A loud laughing-crackling thunder. Old Indian horror movies would kill for that sound. One two three four five... they went on and on and on. 

And finally, after many minutes of arguing, the clouds won and had their way. They burst open and rain came pouring in. They rushed from the clouds as kids rush out when they hear the lunch bell. An Earthy smell wafted when they hit the road. I closed my eyes to soak it in. To me, it's an emotion. The smell of first rain reminds me of the much-waited Monsoons in India.... how our lives revolve around that one season. A loopy-loop of nostalgia. 

Not surprisingly, I later learnt that many areas of Texas saw tornadoes and flash flood warnings that day. These majestic thunderbolts also caused an apartment to burn down in a neighbouring community another time. If you have the opportunity to stay in Texas you will know, the weather there changes more frequently that the weeks themselves. You might be sun-bathing today and tomorrow you might be grabbing you winter jacket. It might be followed by a Tornado-watch and flash flood and boom- a very sudden-spring-like-day after that. 

And with every change, a small new story is spun. Some funny, some frustrating, but each one someday sums up as nostalgia.

Begin Again

I  loved the movie. Simple, sweet, positive, awesome songs. I like Keira Knightley now. On a rainy day and rainier night, where the dry breaks were broken by the sound of crickets, in such a nostalgic setup I thankfully sat down to watch this movie. Am glad I did. The movie starts strange. A song that I did not pay much attention except that she looks sad and lost. Mark Ruffalo, plays a 'pathetic loser' role, except that he manages to get out of it. Well I would highly recommend it as a good Light-mood movie. :).. Enjoy...

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1980929/

Sulky or Wise?

If life starts feeling like a muddy undefined blob of liquid, directionless, blind and stupid, stop sulking immediately. I don’t know how but just stop. Turn off the sulk switch. Sulky brooding, more often than not, takes you nowhere near a good solution. It will instead pull you away from a solution. So STOP!!! We have only one life we are living at a time, there are physi-logically no two parallel worlds. So let’s be real. You are where you are. And I have come to believe it is more so at a mental level.

So whenever shit happens, remember that you have just this one life only to accommodate that. There is little option otherwise. Not all of us can remember our past lives. I do not even know if it is a good thing. So here we are, exactly where we are. Close your eyes. Take a deep breathe. You and your life is only about as useless as you make it. So should you choose to make it purposeful, so it will be. And this choice and action begins at this instant.

I have been sulking about the type of men I get attracted to and who never get attracted back to me in a way that works well with me. Result : 28 and single. I have been confused about what goes inside men’s head. Are men scums or just biologically insanely sex driven? But while it makes a perfect topic for endless stories and gossip, fact is that I started feeling low once I started thinking about it. And with that, I pushed away an entire hour if not more, that I could have otherwise used to give my butts their much needed exercise. So who exactly is screwing up my life for me? Men or myself? You take your pick. You can sulk over either of the options. But it’s ultimately the fact that most of the time we do not get over our sulking (irrespective of source) that we end up messing our lives both in our head and physically.

So to conclude, while shit might/might not be getting cleaned up as I write this or as I brood over sad things, I might just do myself a favour while I am still alive and CHOOSE the more productive deal for myself. Tonight I will do that. Its 9 pm, but I am so hitting my booty with some exercise. CHEERS girls. Let’s try reducing our tendency to worry and care so much. May be it is time girls became boys in their heads, what say?

Raining in Fort Worth

Rain in Fort Worth (Texas), feels the same as rain in Kolkata. And unless rain sogs up my shoes and makes clothes smell with dampness or floods road, I like rain. Its like something is happening around you, keeping things active in general. 

USA does not specifically talk about a 'Monsoon' season. Monsoons however are ridiculously important in India. When you start taking account of your life and how everything seems to fit in your lifestyle and personality, you would realize eventually how weather impacts us common men/ women/ children. I grew up waiting impatiently for the dreamy Winter season back home. But the intoxicating smell of wet earth after the first sprays of rain is often a tough match. 

Rains make you feel so alive sometimes. Its a comforter to the lonely, a solace to the needy. Associated endlessly with both heated and subtle romance, it has long made its way to stories, poems, lyrics, songs, music, dance, literature. It has infused our lives in more ways than we have probably ever cared to notice or admit. 

The graying of the sky is not taken very happily by everyone. Unlike me there are millions who dislike rain too. People have a preference for bright-&-sunny over Dark/Gray-and-cloudy. Well like it is said, 'Nothing-in-extremes-is-good'.

There is however another difference between rains in Fort Worth Vs rain in Kolkata, the roads. While large parts of India will almost surely will develop gigantic puddles ad potholes and develop sewage problems, Fort Worth, seems to be holding up the fort much better. I am an Indian at heart, and the sweet smell of rain in India will usually trigger sweet memories and sweet feelings, but a better drainage system would be such a relief.

Its not been very long since I came to Fort Worth, barely couple of weeks. I am still just getting a hang of things. Orienting my sense of direction that has seemingly gone haywire. Amongst this confusion and moments of blankness, watching the rain just do its thing, felt familiar and that somehow felt good. There is probably no better way I can put it. :).

Watching butterflies return

Simplicity is intoxicating. It is so simple that its being becomes difficult to comprehend. Simplicity is so complicated.

Today I felt the power of simplicity watching butterflies flutter around the garden. It came as a gush of relief. Relief because I did not see so many butterflies for such a long time. I remember, as kids me and my sister would jump around the garden trying to catch butterflies. We would temporarily put them in a jar and then let them go. I still remember how I EEWED when I found that the butterfly I caught had a powdery thing on its wings and that was on my finger after I held it. We would get a feeling of such victory! And when we discussed these accomplishments with our parents, my dad told us how he used to go around catching squirrels and dyeing them. It seems they used to have a competition with the neighbourhood kids, over their skill of trapping squirrels.

Why did the simplicity of all these happenings and memories hit me today? May be because, indeed some of the most cherished things in life, come for free. A stolen moment of glee, of purposeless victory, of listening to your parents' childhood, of watching a delicate thing of beauty, of being able to feel the bliss of all these moments. Where would we be if we don't have these stories to recollect, to share, to cherish? It felt so great to see these pretty little butterflies visit our garden once again given that of late, they weren't around so much. Although one of the most common greenish butterfly was not visible, I saw a lot of other varieties. A particular beauty in black with dazzling fluorescent green stripes. Then there was an orange one and another which seemed a faint blue from a distance. It made me think, may be we have done something right after all, something right enough to coax these light beauties to come to us, to let us watch them, to marvel and feel so pretty and serene inside. For such stolen moments of bliss, simplicity- you are just so intoxicating.

So what if I have a broken wing

Yes I have a broken wing
Yes, my heart finds it painful to sing
Yes, I could not let go
Yes, I could not hold on
Yes, my heart is shattered and broken
Yes, I have felt the trauma of these feelings
Yes, I feel I have crossed my lines
Yes, I feel I could have done better
Yes, my soul feels shrunk and stolen

But lament as I may it will not change what others think
But hasten as I may, everything will not happen my way

But I will trip, especially where I don't expect at all
But I will slip, hurt myself , yet have to trudge along

But how can it be different, we have only this life we know of
The same life to fall, the same life to stand up,
The same life to make mistakes
The same life to learn from them
The same life to feel hurt, the same life to forgive
The same life to love, the same life to get our heart broken
The same life to hold on, the same life to let go
The same life to unlearn the wrong, the same life to learn something new
The same life to let something shatter us, the same life to pick up the pieces

So against what i might wish let me repeat what I said:
So what if I have a broken wing
So what if my heart finds it painful to sing
So what if it was too painful to let go
So what if it was so difficult to hold on
So what if my heart is shattered and broken
So what if I have a memory of the trauma of these feelings
So what if I might have crossed my lines
So what if I did not know then that I could have done better
So what if my soul felt shrunk and stolen

I will let my wings grow again
Sing my songs despite my pain
Look at hurt in the eye
And then tell it GOODBYE
My broken trust, my broken faith,
My broken heart and this seemingly endless pain
You can come and laugh at me, tell me how stupid I have been
But I will accept the facts for a fact
And thank you and tell you to go back
You should find your way to someone else
Go ahead and teach your lessons
And find another victim again

But I will now stick to my broken faith,
Fix it up, mend it, bring it back to shape
Make some room for my spirit to re-enter and stay
And I will not ask anyone else's help
For its after-all my heart and soul
And simple as it may be, I would not be able to give the control to anyone else again

Good Morning!!!