And She Lived Happily Ever After

The story in this post was actually forwarded by a very dear friend. I am posting it here with an added post script, the content of which is entirely my view on the 'other' advantages of singlehood. The story goes:

Once upon a time, a guy asked a girl 'Will you marry me?' The girl said: 'NO!' And the girl lived happily ever after.

She went shopping, dancing, camping, drank martinis, always had a clean house, never had to cook, did whatever the hell she wanted, never argued, didn't get fat, traveled more, had many lovers, didn't save money, and had all the hot water to herself. She went to the theatre, never watched sports, never wore friggin' lacy lingerie, had high self esteem, never cried or yelled, felt and looked fabulous in sweat pants and was pleasant all the time.

Dil Dosti Etc

One always thought - love is two people meeting, falling in love and then living happily ever after. This is one movie that shatters the myth. This is real life. There's nothing called love. Just plain sex. Sex, I repeat, and not love making.

The tagline of the film says - When you are young, you believe, the possibilities are endless...
What possibilities...one wonders after the film...possibilities that you can have as many girls as you want, in a day?

This urban flick, directed by Manish Tiwary, juxtaposes the lives of two university hostellers - Apurv (Imaad Shah), a rich listless guy and, Sanjay Mishra (Shreyas Talpade), an old-fashioned Bihari, aspring to make it big in university politics. It's through their story that the director tries to contrast the liberal outlook with the conservative outlook in our society. Through its ensemble cast, the film explores male bonding, voyeurism, sexual perversion, love and of course, betrayal.

But from a personal point of view, the film centres way too much around sex, sex and more sex...and the climax broke my heart. What a shame. Makes one realize that there’s no dearth of likes of Apurvas around us. What say?

The Road Not Taken

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference

-- Robert Frost

If You would Say

If you would say -
"You are not good enough"
I would then understand,
and perhaps
nonchalantly move on.

And if you would proclaim
"I am in search of a new game
a fair maiden,
with swaying long hair"
then I'll understand more so
and perhaps say -
I really don't care.

But then if you said
"Me plain bored out of life,
looking for, say
a new emotional strife"
this will amuse me more
and who knows
I may even wish
an abundance of such strifes
to keep you sore.

But then, I would not do that
of course,
have no points to score,
but then
how would you know
you soar to newer strifes,
leaving people sore.

On Some Monologues

Incessant monologues wreck my mind,
But the words come out
In mumbles - incoherent and trite.
To some memories the heart binds
Blanketing, shutting out reason,
It's then that I realise
Wayward is the fancy's flight.

Secret Sorrows

Someone committed suicide today. About a couple of hours back...somewhere around Connaught Place. This man was well educated, financially well off and had recently returned from United States. Wonder what drove him to take such a gruesome step. But then life goes on.... he’ll gradually fade away from everyone's memory.... only for his aging parents perhaps.... tragic for them.... They’ll be devastated, living every moment wondering what went wrong, analyzing their dead son's life bit by bit.... assessing themselves bit by bit…

Then again there's this mad woman who wanders around my hostel. At times, I find her sitting on the footpath, blabbering away.... I wonder what she must be thinking about...who or what drove her to such madness?
Errant son? Death in the family? Wayward husband? Some other family problem? I wonder what has made her so miserable.... There have been days, this winter, when I saw her without a sweater or shawl...without a care in the world. Sitting on the same footpath...blabbering away...Tried coaxing her to shift to the safer side of the footpath...but she wouldn't budge...kept murmuring in a strange language...

Two sad people...sad for different reasons.

“Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.”

- H. W. Longfellow

O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell

O SOLITUDE! if I must with thee dwell,
Let it not be among the jumbled heap
Of murky buildings; climb with me the steep,—
Nature’s observatory—whence the dell,
Its flowery slopes, its river’s crystal swell,
May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep
’Mongst boughs pavillion’d, where the deer’s swift leap
Startles the wild bee from the fox-glove bell.
But though I’ll gladly trace these scenes with thee,
Yet the sweet converse of an innocent mind,
Whose words are images of thoughts refin’d,
Is my soul’s pleasure; and it sure must be
Almost the highest bliss of human-kind,
When to thy haunts two kindred spirits flee.

- By John Keats

Indulgence, For Free

Indulgence of all sorts

at your call,
Not much of a strain here,
your choice, in all.

Choose this and choose that
your fancy running free
The world hardly matters,

in your indulgent spree.

Manipulate, cajole or outright reject

whatever the need be

Indulgence of all sorts,
for you, for free.

The Lake Isle of Innsfree

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a-glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear the water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.

By William Butler Yeats

I Die

Like Byron said -
'I regret my youth'
or the follies should I say
bizzare, stupid and uncouth.
So - to atone the follies I cry,
to ease the pain, I die.

Let's leave this here then.
There's no other regret though
The world is nice
barring a few
The wounds left open, for vultures to pry
And to ease this pain, I die.