There are few questions in my mind that I am seeking answers for. These questions are not really new questions but for some reasons I find myself not able to reply..
1. I was by chance listening to the song “Oru Oru pookallame” and the lines.. ‘Nambikai Enbathu Vendum Nam Vaazhvil
Latchiyam Nitchayam Vellum Oru Naalil’
This made me think what is it that I want to achieve in my life? Some purpose towards which I am working on ? Frankly, I couldnt find any answer.. I am not really looking forward to marry and settle.. nor am I ambitious enough and looking forward to make money.. reach some position.. nor write a book and become famous or anything.. forget long term goals.. everyday when I wake up I dont have anything to achieve at the end of the day.. not even at work. So what is your goal in your life? Or are you a drifter like me ?
2. Faith is something that has bugged me for some time now. I wonder if I really have faith in anything .. Not just faith in “God” I mean plain faith.. I think each one of us should have belief in something.. in some values.. even if it is wrong.. What are the foundation values do you believe in? Some ideas.. opinions you know you will never change ..
I once used to think I believe in honesty.. but then i wonder if I am given a choice.. a single lie or loose someone I love what would I choose… I know this is extreme.. but then thats exactly is what troubling me… I want to know the extremes that can define me..
So What defines you ? Can you define urself in 1 word.. oh in 10 words atleast ?
Like a gentle breeze that passes through a sultry summer night,
Wherein not a leaf rustle,
not a single branch sway,
And not a single ripple disturb the still pond
Like a storm in the brew on a rainy day
Darkness seeps through
Thunder roars and the lightening strikes
Yet not a drop escapes the brimming sky
My heart mourns in silence.
Dearest,
If I show my scars to you, would you like me still ? The tears that I keep hidden.. the feelings that I dont even know I have.. The words that have lost meaning not because I cannot give them structure but I have long forgotten them .. would you still like me?
There are shadows in my life. Shadows that I haven’t talked about with anyone. I am afraid they wont like me then. And it is so important. To be liked. I can lie to myself many times, but how would I believe ?
How do I say why having faith is so hard for me? I have seen dreams crumbling many times, rendered useless by one swipe of hand. How can I then believe in the glorious future that is ‘assured’ for me ?
Then again, if I ever try to explain would you listen my inane ramblings until I find a way to articulate ? How do I explain my inexplicable need to communicate and yet the desperate way I wait for someone to ask the right questions and then to find.. no one ever does.. Do you have patience enough to find the right questions?
Dearest, I am asking you all these because I dont think I can ever ask you in person. So when it happens, if it happens, would you be intuitive enough to see beyond my obvious verbal -garbage and seek for those stuff that I never allude to?
I may never be able to express my need for you to know.. yes know them and then pardon me for all my transgressions. And yet, I would never tell. Would you be interested enough to go through my archives and find this letter? For I may never send it.
I might be tempted to, if you were here. When you are here. So when will you be here?
Yours,
Winnie the poohi
Decisions that you twaddle upon for long.. are then made in a moment. I think thats the way it should be. One might be advised to think again .. to not be impulsive.. but the point is.. you have already been thinking about it for long.. and have been caught in a limbo.. at the edge.. all you ever needed was the final “push” and when you get that.. you better move.. else.. what remains.. even if that is you.. is a distorted and much tortured version of you no ?
Emotions are so fickle! It doesnt take more than a single repulsed move to make you feel down and one unintentional word to bring the smile back!
I dont know if I ever talked about it.. I have almost talked about everything! but I have a mania about the letter ‘m’ .. may be becoz it is so easily found 
Today I found that my stats were ‘M’ in shape.. then I remembered the ‘M’ mountain .. that I had once visited.. posting the pics
M- Mountain
The "M" stats
There is only as much you can do about any situation and the rest is always left to others
He was very vocal about the fact that the land was off limits. It was meant to fallow, as his ancestors desired.
Nida , drowned in gambling debts, however had a different plan. Forging documents, she sold it to the highest bidder.
They found her remains along with many others during excavations. Her husband had disappeared too.
Prompted at : 3WW After ages!
P.S: Shamelessly, filched from uber posts by Tarun here and here! Am so impressed that I just had to try this! Hope he doesn’t mind and well… I spent my afternoon reading his blog and was soooo inspired that you can see how verbally diarrheac I have been ( 5 posts in a day :d actually 6 of them )
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He: I failed you. Gave all that you wanted but never could give you what you needed. I failed myself. I never could make you happy.
I have sinned. I shall set you free.
She: I have sinned. I never understood your love. You gave me the world. I chased illusions.
And now lost you forever!
She looked out of her window. It was pouring cats and dogs. The pitter patter of the rain, somehow hypnotized her into inactivity. She hated doing nothing. For when she had time for herself, she remembered. And yet there is something about the Mumbai rains that coerced her to remember. Made her remember. She wanted to purge it out of her system. As if she could! But she wanted to purge him out. May be the rains would help her… help her erase him out of her heart.
She opened the window and caught the rain into her palms. Feeling the wetness caress her fingers as he once did. She stood there for sometime relishing in the sensual poetry of the imagined touch.
Then she decided to step out into the rain drenched roads. She traipsed through the by lanes that they once walked on. As though she was trying to go back and erase every little memory, wiping them away. The laughter that echoed late in the night that she spent sleepless.
The rain wasn’t the gentle kind. It pricked . Pierced through her defenses, until what remained was a quivering mass of high strung emotions. She reveled in it. As if, every prick, relieved her of her pain.
Unwittingly then, her legs reached the shores of Arabian Sea. As waves crashed on the shore with an unaccustomed fury, she tried to hold her emotions in check. However, they had some other plans. Soon the tears mingled with the rain. And the roar of the waves drowned the whispers of sweet nothings that the winds carried.
It was yet not enough. He still lingered. Like few forgotten verses, lost meanings, he lurked, silently. Waiting to be discovered or may be , be stumbled upon unknowingly. It still wasn’t enough.
She stood in the sand. Letting the waves touch her legs gently And when the sand slipped underneath her feet, she could feel the world flit pass by her.
She watched the waves rise up to the crescendos and then crash violently for a long time. Her dreams had soared high likewise and now, she let them crash, one after another. She planned to outlast the rain. And yet, it was sundown and the rain wouldn’t relent. It was time to return. To accept defeat. She returned home.
She had not succeeded. She returned, more awakened, more drenched in him than ever before. And yet, it rained still. She returned yes. To the window again. She didn’t change her wet clothes. She wanted to feel him yet. How could she not? She stood by the windows as the sky darkened into inky night. She had not lighted the lamp today. She was waiting, seemingly for her husband, but that was not true. She waited for HIM.
The bell rung. She opened the door. It was her husband. He asked her in his own polite way, why she was wet. She said, the roof leaked. She reached and took his briefcase while he removed his shoes. While he changed clothes, she made tea for him. They exchanged platitudes while the radio spouted songs of Kishore. … ‘Jalta hai jiya mora bhigi bhigi raaton mein.. ‘
Soon it was night. Time to sleep. Her husband hugged her and whispered he loved her. In the dark of night held her close while she stared at the ceiling.. listening to pitter patter of the rain.. or was it whisper of HIS foot steps? Had he come finally ?
In few minutes, her husband was done and he turned his back on her. While she still stared at the ceiling trying to discern the sound of his fading footsteps in the sound of the incessant rains……..
P.S: This story is inspired (if you like) by the song Paus Datlela from the Album Gaarva by Milind Ingle ( of chuimui si tum lagti ho fame). In this song, the hero, wants his love interest to remember him in the rains. Esp in the rains. He wanted her to remember every one of their memories and then be forced to be sweet to her husband. He wanted her to remain sleepless while husband slept with his back towards her. In effect he wanted her to feel utterly lonely, utterly empty like he felt at that moment. While he assumed that she wouldn’t be feeling that at all… I wanted to show.. how hard it would be for a girl to remember.. and yet to be forced to forget…I am not sure if it works.. but I sure hope so!
If you want to listen to the song.. the link is here.. the song is in marathi.. but extremely melodious! Please have a look!And if you need a translation let me know 
