A note to Self

Dear Me,

You have to realise that there are times when things are not in your hands- concretely. And that impatience is not going to hasten the process of getting 'there', wherever 'that' is. You must not delve too much into something too big. Remember, you are 22. Gargantuan feats are achieved not with much thought, but with a lot of work and action put into it.

You need to know that school is always going to be a place where people were the least judgmental and where in the whole regimented setup, there was a different degree of freedom.

There is no shame in owning the fact that you don't know where things are going and well maybe, you might not know for a long time to come. Never doubt what you believe in because at the end of it, even if you fail, it'll be your mistake to learn from and you'll have no one else to blame.

Give the people you cherish the opportunity to grow in your mind space. Let them go ahead in their lives, and redefine their image in your world according to those changes. Don't hold on to your perception of someone formulated in the ancient past.

It's going to be a new year pretty soon, yeah? And with it, things are going to change. Accept it, and take the next step with pride, and humility.

Yours, always.
You

Incomple..

Of things incomplete, the one that takes me on the most supreme guilt trip- the things unsaid. Closely followed by the the things left incomplete. Maybe the canvas of a mountain, a river and a house with the shining sun undone. Or of a beach, the sea but the palm trees without any fruits.

There are things to be done, journeys to be taken, things to be said- all pending, and waiting for their proper ending. Time, after all, is something which slips out of the crevices and cannot be held.

Of completeness, R will draw to a close- a complete end- in a few months. And as much as I wanted this time to be a reality, I look back and see all the wonderful things that have happened to me in these years. Friends, foes and myself. I have happened to myself.

A close friend left R last year with beautiful songs for everyone. I think I'll leave everyone with the one thing that is the closest to me- my writing. I'll write about the people who have mattered to me- our moments- before the curtain draws. Words, my strength. Words, my own.

A 100, and more!

Delhi turned a 100 this week. That's almost as old as my grandfather and me put together. Experiences of a septuagenarian and the outlook of a 20 something- that, my dear Watson, is Delhi for you. The city which sleeps at the strike of 8 in winters, only to hide in its darkness the rave gatherings of the upper bourgeoisie. It shelters petty thieves, murderers and thugs- which I may add, add to the fabric of this metropolis which does not have a culture of it's own.

Delhi will mug you of your belongings, talk you into sweet nothings and strap you off your dignity. It will make you feel cold and distant, and always an outsider for those who aren't dAlhiwalas. It will also give you immense faith in mankind seeing people of diverse backgrounds coexist in the same space. It'll make you feel at home for this is home to migrants from far and wide. It will give you strength in knowing that two of every three persons is striving for a peaceful and satisfactory existence in the Rajdhani.

Delhi is a city of contradictions, a city you have to make yourself fall in love with. The people aren't the best of the lot, but sure they care when they see someone in distress. Yes, they shouldn't be trusted right away, but we don't laugh at your misery. Garrulous, you quip? Indeed, but at least we speak good of people. Delhi, after all is where dreams may never be realised but it gives you the motivation to dream. To dream big.

To my Delhi which has taught me who I am, and what I can be. To my Delhi which is the worst, but is also the best. To my Delhi, joyous centenary celebrations, meri jaan!

Finally, final.

As it happens, the pages are turned to figure out what happens next. And when you near the end of a much revered book, a sense of loss is always on the cards. Once completed, you feel satiated and in some weird way, very ravenous.

Another page was turned this week, the seventh to be precise. Then there was that first visit to the placement complex. Happy faces, jitters and unavoidable disappointments- a potpourri with a great combination of sense and sight. There seems to be a time for everyone, and for a few, it's already here. Congratulations, much!

For a few of my dear ones, their time is coming. I can see it, the hope of a hopeless optimist. It's just a matter of moments before they will have formally arrived, and that day, I'll be a proud man.

Sometimes I wonder, whether my singularity in this entire milieu was a wise decision. On keen deliberation, I can only come up with one regret. I didn't get an opportunity to wear a suit with a red tie. Oh well, someday. Soon.

Final year is special, and every tick of the clock is a memory. A memory to be etched in the mosaic of life, and to be reflected back on with permeating fondness when you have moved on- for good.