Post-It Love!

I love the concept of post-it notes. You just “have to fit” everything you want to say in that one tiny piece of coloured paper. And, then you just need to find the right surface to stick it on, hoping the person who reads, gets the message in that one convulated space.  And, then the inventors/ manufactures/ great minds have gone one step further and made then in different sizes. Yes, they come in an array of sizes (as if one was not enough). Humph!

So, oftentimes, I have seen pictures, posts and photos making the best use of this product. Some use it in the office space, few write notes and stick it in their notebooks and others write use these creatively – either doodling or writing verse. And, then there are some who take the extra step to make art out of this. Of course, as if writing was not enough, these adventures souls have created some fine masterpieces out of this coloured kaliadescope of paper.

You will always find these strips of paper in my desk, cupboard, bag, under the bed, at my folks place, near the telephone stand, on top of my shelf - and the list continues. My logic is – you never know! But, who needs notebooks and scribble pads when you have these tiny solutions coming to the rescue. There are times when I become a damsel in distress and these become my knight in shinning armour – and, hey, the colours just pleases the eye.

Love or hate them, use or don’t use them – finally, I have never, never, never had paper cuts with these cuties. WIN!

This happens!

Today, started with the rain.

And, I reached the office without my spectacles.

To start the story (every story has a back story), I forgot my glasses. Neehal was sitting in the passenger seat, while I started to drive. When I reached the end of my street (yes, it wasn’t far), I blurted “Damn! I forgot my glasses.” This was followed by silence and then a half-hearted, “Should we head back”. To which I replied “Nah!”

Now, if only, I could turn back time.. I would be dancing and singing praises to my ancestors. Yes, for making me a God, who had the ability to change time.

Nothing of that happened. This was after all reality. And, in reality, we suck it up and sit on my behinds making the most of things. Humph!

People stared because I was not returning their greeting. Colleagues were muttering because I didn’t see them talking to me while I marched (yes, marched) past them. My so called friends at work even called me names. And, this I suffered while half blind.

Now, it’s not that I am blind. But, I could have been better at spotting and hurling myself out of the way when confronted with the cabinet at the end of my desk. Yes, I do have the makings for a blue and black rugby player. I can’t seem to judge distances and the eye-squinting was becoming funny for some to see. The strain in my eye was reaching its highest level of tolerance. I could have even tolerated ice being shoved down my throat on this even-eskimo-would’nt-rejoice-cold day. Oh, the pleasure of brain freeze would have been a merry dance as compared to this blind daze.

So, here I sit, squinting at the words I type and trying to make the sentences form in my mind before I put it on paper. And, all this while, I can only curse at myself.

And, that’s when it hit me.. I can laugh..

Hey, if you can’t laugh at yourself on this rainy, muggy and oh-it-could-have-been-a-better-day weather, then what can you do, but to say “Damn! Wish I could turn back time”.

Oh! And, did I mention earlier that this is also giving me a hell of a headache.

 

*still squinting while I paste this on my blog*

Miroir.

The last time I checked the mirror, there was still me. Me in a better light, but me that had been forgotten until I turned the page to “finding myself”. I have been a daughter, a sister, a friend and recently, a wife. And, yes, I do love all these roles. But, somewhere, in between trying to fill the gaps and making sure there was no leaf left unturned, I had forgotten to be myself.

I guess, we have all been there and done that! I am sure there are still women out there who are going through these same pangs. But, do we just sit by? Watch the world spin and see the people rolling around in their existent, fulfilling lives. I guess not! There comes a time when it hits you in the face. A time, when you can no longer look at the mirror and not see the blemishes. The spots of disappointments and the stain of sadness, seeping through the core of your existence.

I hate the preachers and the experts. I hate the way that one girl who shouts from the rooftops saying she is fine. I hate the fact that there is one woman on a holiday by herself, writing her joys in her diary. I hate that lady who skips to her tunes and dances the night away. I hate that person who knows what she wants and fights to the end for that one chocolate on the shelf. And, I hate the one who catches herself once she falls through the cracks of heartache and burn.

It’s not that I am a hater. I just hate that all the above are not me. That used to be me. I used to be that somebody. Always wearing a smile and wandering around the lanes of no-turning-backs. I am not lost, but mislead in this street of life. I do thank all the great people in my life - my family, my husband and my friends. I am who I am because of what they said, did and told me.

And, now I need to give back. Go back to that precise moment where I stopped being me. Where I turned away from myself. And, finally go back to reaching for the stars and drawing away the blues. I want to be that girl who can wear a grin and watch the boat leave her island of woes. I want to be that woman who has no cares and wears her dress shorter. I want to be that person who stretches her arms and embraces the one closest to her just to feel their touch. I want to be that being who opens her doors and lets the excitement of new in. And, finally, to be the girl who leaves her sleeves open and turns her collar up, just to let everyone know that she is ready.

It’s time! Yes.

I bring with me this year..

It’s been a year! A year since I have put pen to paper (or, in this case, finger to the keyboard). Some may say I am lazy. Well, if lazy means sitting on my behind and staring into the oblivion, then, so be it.. This shedding light into the white space seems to get more complicated as the minutes, hours, days and months go by. This year, I promise myself (with a deep breath) it will be different. Different not only in the true sense of the word.. but, different in a way, where its own definition needs to be written down in a journal bound by an elastic rubber band of baseless truth, mushy courage and infinite space.

This play with words has indeed made a run for my money. Not that I had any in my bank to begin with. Still, losing something that one didn’t have in the first place is equally disastrous. This business of not jotting down that precise moment where a curse word, loving mention and momentous pause occurred has indeed lead to a void. A year-long void at that.. Where, a book, poem or even a phase could have been built. Finding the right word to fit in this gap has not been very fruitful. Gone are those days where there was a spring in my step and a hop in my thoughts.

I ask myself now.. Why this long gap. And, that’s where a great saying comes to mind – “An Idle Mind Is the Devil's Workshop”. If truth be told, we all do go into this lethargic mode once in a way. This slumber on our hammocks, with the breeze playing faintly with your sand-filled toes and this holiday-mood that seems to takes it time leaving our relaxed mind. And, when such a moment arises, where here I sit at my desk, staring at my oddly-collected pile of postcards, post-it notes and toys, I find a revelation. A revelation that, yes, I do have it in me to complete something. Complete this work which started not so long ago, but which had enough dust covered on it that could make a sage blink his eyes twice.

Yes. This is going to be the year, where I find myself through its pages. Pages filled with dreams, travels, flowers, love.. It may not take a lifetime to find the way, but it could take an hour to fill this blank sheet of paper. I may be half-way there, but there is still that thought in me.. The thought that keeps making an endless scratch on my mind.. Capture Life.

To find joy in a tiny grain of sand, to find love in the dew drops of a petal and to find happiness in the hand that holds the TV remote.  Yes. This.

Travel light, they say..

 

To see the world as is

They say everyone

Can be a traveler,

But, I see the road ahead

Is fit for the one

With the right heart.

 

Walk, sail or fly

You come to a step

Where the turn shows

A path less have travelled

But, look again, and you will

See the footsteps of old.

 

To tread on the lane

Where the rocks and sand

Have a story of its own

To be told when the time

Has come for one to learn

Of what her future holds.

 

Pack light they may say

Carry things that you

Can use to light a fire

But, I say, chose the things

That, show you how to

Make your own world.