Not Picturesque

I've been on a diet every day since I was nineteen, which basically means I've been hungry for a decade. I've had a series of not nice boyfriends, one of whom hit me. Ah, and every time I get my heart broken, the newspapers splash it about as though it's entertainment. And it's taken two rather painful operations to get me looking like this.
- Anna Scott, Notting Hill

I remember this picnic with my family and relatives which was probably 8 to 10 years back. We had a medium-sized bus hired for ourselves for the trip and we were on our return journey. Everybody was tired and the music played was shutdown so that they could relax. After laughing and keeping myself animated for several hours I had seated myself at the center of the last seat in the vehicle. I still have the memories of this scene fresh. I was letting my eye sight cut through all the seats and stare at windscreen and the horizon that lay beyond it. There was an orange sun that was not painful on my eyes. The road was straight in the direction of it and there were some shrubs on the left side of the road making up for a boulevard. I cannot recollect what lay on the other line of that road. I wanted that journey to never end. I had all my cousins with me, my parents and many uncles and aunts who didn't stay in India at that time. I was in love with the time I was experiencing. But there was a fear in my heart - I knew the journey was short-lived and it would end in some time.

From that day to today, I have lived many such journeys. Perhaps I have seen such things before that day too, but I don't remember. I fell in love with the journeys time to time until I finally learnt not to get carried away by the journey. The lesson more important than this - I learnt that if I am not in love with the destination, I am bound to find some affection towards the journey. I met quite a few people on the way. There are those who had to leave me. There are those I thought would stay with me - if not all my life, but at least for some more time - but didn't. There are those I desperately wanted to show love towards. Then there are those I never thought would ever be with me and become my loved ones - many of these presently make my life beautiful. I would never keep them as a part of my journey. They are apparently a part of me.

There were several instances today that made me take a pause from apparent visualisations through eyes. The last one was just sometime back when there was music ringing in my ears, I was staring at the surface on my table rubbing my finger on it but none of this was in my mind. I was lost in some thinking, or dreaming - if that describes it better, or perhaps pondering. But I cannot recollect what it was that took me away from reality. At time I can't believe how silent I become given that I don't find many people who talk as much as I do. The whole idea of living satisfied has mesmerised me. These days I am having the best times of my life ever. I had not even remotely imagined that I would be so close and friendly with some people I had only heard of three years back.

When I crossed the 400th mark as the number of posts on this blog, I began wondering if I was random in what I wrote all the time and if I can be good enough if I continue. There was something that made me feel a bit disappointed. On several occasions I was not able to convey the right messages in the right way. This comes as an understanding that there were some posts I wanted to be appreciated for; I wanted to be said that what I had written was good; I wanted to hear some comments on them, if not praise, but at least some critique maybe. But I have never been random with what I wrote all these months. Everything was linked. Perhaps it's only because I have written all of it, it is only I who can understand what it is. I don't know how the readers take it; I cannot see my blogs from any different perspective. Then I realized that I need to be independent - independent of what I am writing, keep things connected, write for my satisfaction and not for comments or appreciation. Perhaps this is understanding of maturity in its lowest form. It also perhaps comes as a part of learning how to become emotionally independent and never have dependency issues. And perhaps it is also an indication of how I need self-appreciation and not affirmations from others. I mean only what I have written here for this moment. There are no hidden meaning to this; I am not asking for comments.

My father today asked me today about making a blog. He said he wanted to write one by himself. I liked the idea but my brother didn't. That was because yesterday my brother looked at some old pictures of my father and said that he appeared like those extra characters who are on villain's side in typical Hindi movies. Some days back my brother said that my father looked like a patient when he was wearing an old night-suit. My father enjoys these discussions and we have a lot of fun talking about them. So my father said he would write a blog and let everybody know. I said I would do the publicity and we can guarantee many visitors.