What I Want

I want to write about other things, happier things, things that don’t get stronger the weaker I get.

I want to laugh freely, feel the wind in my hair, truly live under the infinite night sky.

I want to dream of beautiful things, and wake up to happiness.

I want to stop waiting for brimstone and hellfire.

I want to be waited for, appreciated, wanted.

I want to believe in things and people.

I want to forget the bad memories.

I want to be more than this.

I want to be ecstatic.

And

I always

do what I want.

Arizona Phoenix

I have spent so long under this hot desert sun, dreaming up cages and sweet releases of rain and thunderstorms, that I somehow stumbled past the realization of no longer being tied to any wire. The freedom I craved was apparently mine to bestow upon myself – for quite a while now. But I had spent so long deceiving myself when it came to my reasons for staying, I had truly come to believe that I was stranded. Abandoned off some highway so distant and untraveled, that my weary wings would never be able to bear me to civilization ever again.

And I lay on the ever hardening, burning Earth, convinced that what I felt was coldness inside. Was it? I don’t know anymore.. Have no way of knowing. At least not immediately. But, fighting pain with more pain is a hatchling habit that should have died a long time ago. Except my obsession with souvenirs includes saving remnants of who I have been. Living ghost memories of parallel personalities that allowed me to sneak past life events before being able to fully comprehend them. Guardians that  may or may not have outlived their purposes, but it doesn’t matter, because I never learned to let go.

And we have sailed, with inappropriate laughter and tears, to this utterly bizarre point in time, all out of sync except when it comes to the burning rage at the core of us all. I think it’s the scintillating fusion of burning rage and the helplessness that comes with being not strong enough that gave birth to most of these ghosts in the first place, not quite unlike every other phoenix. Except since they never die, they are never reborn – simply frozen in time like ghosts that should fade, but never learned how to.

These are the ghosts that bind me. The remnants of a past so distant, I cannot even think of that person – those persons – as myself. And thus my frozen portraits bind me to the present, unable to move forward in time long enough to burn to ashes and be reborn. My sentimental heart longs for one more rain before it will allow me to go. But she is untrustworthy, and no amount of water will ever be enough. She shall always be thirsty.

I remember an old professor now. Back when I was so young that even the dreariest day brought with it abundant hope and the promise of adventure. The World was our’s. And he told us how it worked. How sometimes, it didn’t matter how much effort, time, capital or energy you had invested in a project. Sometimes, you had to realize that there would be no returns. Sometimes, you had to simply cut your losses. Those losses are your “Sunk Costs”, and well, it was an economical serenade to the concept of letting go. Harsh, practical and so true.

Except, I must be bird brained. Because despite knowing that, here I am. Cooking in the middle of a desert where I’m not even wanted, and where I have *never* wanted to be. What for? For years and years of sunk costs, I say. Years and years. And I’ve been putting away my turning to ashes and being reborn by one last thunderstorm and one last volcanic eruption and one last winter and one last smile – but my time has run out.

Change or Die.

That is not the question.

That’s the answer.

Not Your Fault

 

“I am not a broken heart.
I am not collarbones or drunken letters never sent. I am not the way I leave or left or didn’t know how to handle anything,
at any time,
and I am not your fault.”

― Charlotte Eriksson

Avenging Expectations

Dated: Mid 2013

I know that you expect

Songs of vengeance and fire

Clinging complaints of neglect

But, my love, I am tired..

.

I know you still expect

Accusations of cruelty

But pleading for attention

Has never been my specialty

.

I could clutch at your hand

and keep asking you why

I could say I still cared

And I could try and cry

.

But, baby, if you want me gone,

Well then, tell me, who am I?

Who am I to ask to stay?

Baby, who am I to ask why?

.

And I could chase some fantasy

And hope that half of it comes true

Or maybe find the man of my dreams

Except on nights I dream of you

.

And in the midst of all your fire

I crave only to burn

Like a torch to some inner darkness

That only I have earned

.

And I would make my way to you

Come rain-storms or hell-fire

Not for empty words

Only all my form desires

.

And if you asked me to leave

I would pack my bags and go

Live out forgotten fantasies

Hidden behind some nameless door

.

Maybe I’d even forget

The sound of your voice

Pretend that when I was leaving

You gave me no choice

.

And maybe I’d forget you too

Though I hope it isn’t so

Or cry into rainy nights

While he holds my body close

.

And I cannot help but wonder

Whether his skin, too, would be smooth as ice

And I can’t help but wonder

If any other fire would ever suffice.

.

You owe me nothing

And I owe nothing to you

And in this nothingness what we choose to give

Is all that must be true

.

So if lessons and space are what I’ve earned

Tell me, of what shall I complain?

When I would give you my immortality

What price is mortal pain?

You can’t expect me to be fine, I don’t expect you to care

 

You say it’s too late to make it,
But is it too late to try?
And in our time that you wasted,
All of our bridges burned down…

– Payphone, Maroon 5

A Conversation on Chivalry

Opening Speaker: Chivalry is over rated and convenient.

Participant 1: For whom is it convenient? Chivalry is a choice. The choice to do the right things, for the right reasons, at the right times. If not, then it’s not chivalry; it’s probably a superficial act to impress!

OS: To not practice it is also a choice. The choice to believe in equality. Chivalry isn’t right. The choice to like or hate it is right.

P1: What else does choice mean, OS? Obviously, it’s one’s choice not to practice it or otherwise.
Btw, i really would like to know if YOU believe in the very concept of being chivalrous?

OS: You used the word ‘right’ so many times with regards to things or reasons. Anyway I don’t believe in chivalry 🙂

Participant 2: I don’t get chivalry, we should be respectful and mindful of everyone. I mean if some guy bumps into u we say sala BC… its just not nice… lets just have good manners and leave chivalry to the Downtown Abbey guys

OS: Chivalry should not be confused with courtesy. Yes we should respect and be mindful of everyone we interact with but I don’t think it’s fair to go beyond our means or way for someone especially if external factors aren’t compromising safety.

P2: yea m not ruining my jacket so someone shouldnt step over a puddle… side se jao 😛

Participant 3: Weird. Being as chivalrous as possible is my high. I wish the whole world, both men and women, would be more chivalrous. As long as you protect those weaker than you, in kindness and not out of some weird sense of duty, chivalry is what you are practicing. It’s about courage and honor, courtesy and justice. It isn’t something you can or cannot believe in. It is something that either comes naturally to you, you aspire towards, or you avoid. I think it’s noble.
And it’s anything but convenient. lol.

OS: P3, Thank you for that. As far as courtesy, courage and justice are concerned I agree. However, I do feel the modern interpretation of it is sometimes unfair. I think I practice chivalry in the traditional sense but i’d rather avoid it’s modern interpretation. If equality exists among two individuals I fail to understand why one of them is ‘duty bound’ or expected to be taking care of the other person especially when external factors like safety etc aren’t a concern. I’d rather have equality in my personal equations and I really wouldn’t want to be a guardian to someone who clearly doesn’t need it.

P3: In life, everyone is going to be weaker or stronger than you at some level. It depends on what level your interaction is happening, I believe. Of course its application (chivalry’s i.e.) would be different today than at the time of its inception, but that’s because the social set up at the time of origin was a violent and dangerous one, where knights were one of the strongest and women, amongst the weakest. But today, this is not necessarily true. Yes, if it’s late at night, and you’re in India, you are at a position of strength compared to any female friends you might have with you and chivalry might be expected of you, only on the basis of your being male, but to assume that is the be all and end all of chivalry is wrong. There may be times when you come across a lost child, or an injured dog or even a male colleague who is utterly lost. Or when you’re dealing with the help, or a waiter at a restaurant, or a confused elderly gentleman on the subway. 

I think Chivalry, in fact, is all about strength. If you know you are stronger than those around you, then as long as you do everything in your power to protect them, without expecting rewards or favors in return, you are being chivalrous. Those that say that it’s unfair because women always receive the benefit are buying into the notion that a woman is always weaker than a man, regardless of surroundings or circumstance, and as dismaying as it may be, the solution is not to shun chivalry, but to practice it properly, so that even those who denounce it come to receive its favors, and more importantly, because that is the burden of humanity on its path to civilization.

OS: *sips on water*…Okay!
I have a problem with it due to it’s very gendered connotations. Now, I’m not going to get into specifics of what I do which actually does resonate with your comment. However I wouldn’t compromise on equality specifically when the circumstances do not put me in a position of strength. ..courtesy would mean opening the door for someone regardless of their gender or vacating a seat for someone who clearly looks tired, with a child .. paying the bill, again without bringing gender into the equation, because I might absolutely adore the person, maybe in a position of more financial strength However I wouldn’t want to pay for someone just because according to gender stereotypes, I am supposed to or rush to open the car door for someone perfectly healthy because I’m supposed to. Assuming there is no position of strength involved in a particular situation, I do not believe in doing something just because that is what some gentleman did for his lady at the next table. In other words, I’d rather not be a position of strength and I’d love to be with someone who’s independent and doesn’t need me to pull off stupid stunts to amuse her yet if there’s ever a situation where I find myself in a position of strength, my belief system, how so ever flawed, will be doing everything that’s expected out of a decent human being.

P3: Yeah, so it is all about your own perception of your own strengths and weaknesses, as well as those of the people you are with. I frequently open doors for people I am with, male or female, because if I can do something that makes life easier for the person I am with, and it costs me less than nothing to do it, then why not? Does it mean I consider myself stronger than them in some way? Why, yes, it does. Often it does anyway. And for the few times where I am certain that I am at a disadvantaged position in terms of strength or capability, then what better opportunity to repay them for the chivalry I believe their advantageous position will inspire them to than by doing something as simple as opening a door, or fetching a glass of water, etc..

Freedom is only a word, but so is Love

Meaningless.
Obsolete.
Stuck in a
memory
Dancing doll,
stop your feet
The song’s long
gone, you see

Irredeemable
Lost in time
A nostalgia
so sublime
Under a red sky
that bled in rhyme
Binding souls
and stopping time

Irrelevant,
it haunts me
in flashes
that taunt me
I am confused
and lonely
The past seems
now so phony

Blitzed sunrises
and stormy nights
In fragments
of darkness and light
They haunt me,
leave me in a fright
And I can’t remember
what you didn’t say that night.

But, devour me
Swallow me whole
Tell me your secrets,
then tell me more
I’ll be your blood
You be my soul
Join me in enlightenment
Free me from this cold

Alas, it’s time
the truth must be set free
I love you, it’s true
But you don’t love me
And love’s only a word
What does it know of how things feel
No, love is overrated
Still, you don’t love me

True Freedom is
its own prison indeed
You’re always a captive
of the things that you need
And wanderers are free too
as long as they have nowhere to be
Ah, perhaps only the lost
can ever truly be free…

San-scarred for life

“Culture is not a standard protocol followed in ancient texts. How we do things is our culture. We eat with our hands, that’s our culture. We fold our hands when greeting elders, that’s our culture. We rape women, tear their clothes off, dump them from buses, that’s our culture.”

Brilliant piece! Must read for all those loyalist defenders of the “Indian Culture”.