I thought that when I saw your funeral pyre, I’d finally believe that you’re gone. But as I watched the logs of wood turn black and white, start to crack and finally, core charred, collapse into dust – mingling with your ashes, as I watched the flames liquefying the air above, or the fresh logs being added up top, or the small concrete plot under the tin roof, it still did not feel true.
“We cannot change the cards we are dealt, just how we play the hand.
– Randy Pausch
These words came from this absolutely beautiful book I am reading called The Last Lecture, written by the late Carnegie Mellon Professor before losing his battle to Pancreatic cancer in 2008. I’ve probably written about this before, but I do think it bears repeating.
If you’re reading this, you have access to a computer. I can almost assume that you have a roof over your head, and food on your table. Some of us have a little more, some of us have a little less. Some of us are plagued with debts, while others are blessed to live more comfortably.
Those of you who know me, know I have a knack for meeting very strange people, and a large collection of funny stories to show for it. This week however, things reached a new level for me.
Three incidents have occurred in the last four days – all unrelated – and now I just want the whole thing to stop. Continue reading “A Rant On Boundaries”
A few years back, during Game of Thrones season, I made the mistake of posting on a friends Facebook wall that I could not watch that weeks episode because I was sleep deprived. Another girl who went to high school with us immediately commented something to the extent of “why are you sleep deprived Mira? Do you have two children under five?”
After this they had a delightful back and forth about how I must have been partying every night when the truth is I had been at work for 14 days straight and was just wired. I said something and my friend eventually apologized to me (I know her intention wasn’t bad – and I do think she was truly sorry).
That ravenous yearning that
Never satiates because
Mosquitoes cannot ever
Be fireflies, Parasites
Can not be friends, Symbiosis
Will never be our way of life
It is far better to plunge the
Knife deep into my flesh or spine
Than to see me as the magic
To charm your pathetic
Shortcomings into muscle
This princess is going to
Another castle, This dream
Will float on another cloud
And one day when arrogance
Has thinned more than hair follicles
You’ll recall that grey fuzzy
Space you once thought I occupied,
The one you considered to be
Your magic elixir
But sadly as I have learned,
I should never hold my breath.
My alarm goes off at 4:30 am. My hand slaps towards my phone as if it is an actual clock, finally managing to silence it, if only momentarily. As a precaution I have set an alarm at 4:25, 4:35 and 4:40 lest my body goes on strike and I miss my flight (which has happened). I hate my life in those early moments of the morning, the sky is still dark and the city (whichever city it is I’m in) is still sleeping.
I’m dazed for the first few moments of whatever musical interlude I’ve chosen to jolt me out of my REM cycles and then all of a sudden my body is almost excessively alert. I sit up straight and especially of late, have a few moments of not remembering where I am.
The things that cannot be bought
By money, self-satisfaction
Synthetic smiles or shared
You may lull me into
Submission for one night
Or two or three but only
In flesh, muscle and bone
Skin deep, yet to pierce vein
So wipe away that smugness
Scrub it, scourge it from your face
Underneath your pathetic
A dusty barren wasteland
Where few roses can bloom
That wilderness cannot be
Owned, contained or restrained
Nor is it yours to take
Because once the veil falls
And you shake the cobwebs
From your eyeballs, Turning
Off your pretty filter
You will learn you cannot
Sow a tropical paradise
In the scorched desert sands
Or sculpt an ocean out of
An oasis or turn
Dust to rich fertile soil
Else you may end up all
Alone, clutching the last
Of your wits and dignity
Watching helplessly as they slip
Through your fingers and vanish
Mock, Stalk and Quarrel is a delightful collection of 29 tales of situations that we’ve all witnessed in some way. The voices and subject matter of the tales vary.
In some we see very familiar political or media personalities, in others we see a lackadaisical attitude towards Ones job or family, in others we see neglected children. The cross section cuts across gender, religion and socioeconomic status. The underlying theme in every story is the hypocrisy we find in all areas of society particularly in those that claim to be serving our society. I also see it, maybe due to my own personal journey in 2016, to take a long hard look in the mirror and see which of these I may be guilty of.
I think it’s very fitting that I read this close to the end of the year. I think New Years is a great time for reflection, and my own personal journey has led me to a point where I need to identify my own hypocrisy and blind spots and I think there are some very poignant examples of how we can slip into that, within the pages of this collection.
The one great thing with the satirical tone of these stories is that they tackled heavy subjects often with a light hearted approach and tone. Humour is a much easier way to absorb some of these social ills than a style that is very heavy and intense. This has been a year of a great many changes for our country, so that adds a whole other element to what I brought to this collection.
Overall a great light read, and the fact that there are 29 stories means that there are 29 different styles each with their own nuances and perspectives. I would definitely recommend this one 🙂
Screams met by silence because
Of course they only echo
Within my own consciousness
Reverberating off the
Edges of images past
Blurred, greyed and coloured by
Wishful thinking, hindsight tinted
By hopes, dreams, desires
Continue reading “Uncomfortable Truths”
Dear Mahesh Shah,
For the last ten days I have been begging for forgiveness. Begging for forgiveness for whatever twists of fate led me to purchase furniture (through Pepperfry) from Hometown. I’d had an awesome experience with Pepperfry as long as it was their customer service, deliveries and carpenter services, but with Hometown I have had an absolutely awful experience.
Continue reading “An Open Letter to Mahesh Shah, CEO of Hometown”