The Time Traveller

She wanted
Like a little girl would,
For she was of course,
A little girl,
And so,
It wasn’t abnormal for her
To want what she wanted,
And wish for what she wished.
But then the man
Who defined normal,
Decided to poke a little fun
At this small girl,
And he changed therefore
The definition of normal,
So that her wish
Because almost synonymous,
With the most abnormal thing
One could wish for,
And so it was
That her wish wasn’t granted,
Moreover
People laughed at her,
For they found it amusing,
That a little girl,
Which she truly was,
Would want and wish
For the things
She wanted and wished.

But then she knew
What she had to do,
So she went,
To the nearest spaceport,
And picked up a spaceship
That was painted,
In pink and blue,
She of course chose it,
‘Cause those were
Her favorite colors,
And she time-travelled
To the past,
Wishing that she’d find,
The definition of normal,
To be as normal as
Any definition could be.
But the spaceship
Was an evil one,
And it took her to the past,
Where the word normal,
Had not yet been discovered,
When she reached there,
People had just come out,
Of their caves,
Looking for deer to kill,
And then ate them,
And slept merrily.

So she took the spaceship,
And travelled to the future,
But now she came back,
To where she had started.
But as far as I think,
Her wishes at the end
Were fulfilled,
Even though people
Did laugh at her,
For the wish after all,
Was to time-travel.

The Hitchhiker

Hello everyone. I am back now, albeit for a short period, and you would want to know what I have been up to. So here’s that then, for there’s not much to be told, apart from of course what I have been up to. So I just finished with my copy of ‘The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’. It is a wonderful read. It is funny, it is dreamy, and it is carved beautifully into five parts which somehow just manage to intermingle and join up towards the end.

So what is this book all about? Well, the story revolves around a couple of friends and couple of their friends, who travel through time and space to save the universe and to find unexpectedly, the answer to Life, Universe and Everything. If there is one utmost important thing that this book teaches us, it is to never expect anything from life, for it is almost always the opposite of what you get. Another important thing that this book puts forward is that you do not need to write poignant pieces of tales, or very deep thoughts, to make it to the Classics list. Trust me, this is one of those books you’ll never regret after reading.

So that’s that then, for there is nothing much more to tell, and for this is not a book review forum, so I will not critique what has been written, for my job was to read it, and enjoy it to the fullest, and that was what I did. Coming back to my life, well, Happy new year once again, though it is quite late to wish you so, I’ve started with this new book. It’s a novel by Rabindranath Tagore, called ‘The Home and The World’, a translation of the very famous Bengali classic ‘Ghore Baire’. It is a pleasant read, and I have only been through the first couple of pages, so let’s wait till it gets over.

That much for now. I will be back again with more introspection when I am in the mood for introspection, which is definitely not today, but might happen some day soon. Bye then, and have a good day, and do grab a copy of the Hitchhiker if you can.

Pinnacle

There have been times when I have thought,
That this might be the end to all,
I am falling behind the rest of the crowd,
Hold me someone, lest I fall.
Yet somehow, every single time,
I have managed to get up,
Dust off my pants, cover up the bruises,
And run again in the race.

So then what was the point,
Of feeling low at times?
It’s important somehow I think,
To feel low and upset sometimes,
Because that is the only way,
You can try to reach the zenith again,
And touch the pinnacle of happiness.

Well, if that doesn’t make sense,
I do not blame you,
‘Cause I am really sleepy,
And I don’t know what I’m writing.
But this is what I really meant,
That yes, you must, you should,
Be happy and cheerful,
Whenever you can,
But then, you must remember,
Being sad is not that bad,
Did that line rhyme in itself?
I think I’ll grow up to become a poet.

You

And I kept thinking
Foolishly,
That I had successfully
Forgotten you,
When all the time,
The only thing
At the back of my mind,
Was you.

So here’s a toast,
To all those times
When we were.
To all those times
That we spent
In each other’s arms,
Thinking that this,
This is it,
This is what
We always wanted.

And now I must stop.
It’s a new year,
And I have made,
Much like others,
A resolution.
I will not be
Foolish anymore,
And that this,
This is the last time,
I write about
You.

Kicking off with Blogging Anew

Hello everybody. I am doing something new this year for a change. I have signed up for a course on WordPress called Blogging 101. Today is the first day, and I hope that by the end of this course, both you and I benefit from this course. I am going to benefit because I am going to learn a lot in this process and it is going to help me become a better blogger. I wonder why I did not take this course five years earlier. You might benefit because you are going to get lots of posts from my end which might make your day interesting.

So today’s assignment is to publish a “who I am and why I’m here”, and I am going to start this year on a happy note by rediscovering myself.

Who I am
I had always wanted to become a linguist since I was small, but somehow I grew up to become a computer scientist. Being a computer scientist is fun, because honestly, there are lots of computer scientists out there, and you get to interact with a lot of people who have common interests. But that would be the ideal thing to say. The real thing then is this. People who grow up in developing countries, for example, I grew up in India; so these people always have this dream to visit the States some day. And being a computer scientist, it is not very difficult to land up in California if you have the right degree and qualifications. So then, have I been to California? Well, no. But I hope to be there one day, working with the best lot of people from the world. Will that dream ever be fulfilled? I cannot say, for soothsaying never got anyone anywhere.

I wonder why I am writing this when I already have an ‘About Me’ page. But then the course suggests that this would let me revisit what I said when I first started blogging. To be honest, five years down the line, a lot has changed. And I can actually see the difference through my posts, through the change in my styles of writing and the topics that I write about. Five years ago when I started, I was an immature kid who thought infatuation was the same as love, and that the only thing which is fun to write is love poems which rhyme at the end of every sentence. And my friends who have been following this blog since then truly know how much things have changed over time. For one, I am much happier than what I used to be. And I am really happy about the fact that I am happy. Well yeah, that is a redundant statement, but anyway.

Why I’m here
I’m here because I love to write. I’m here because I appreciate the fact that there are people who like what I write and inspire me to write more. More than once it has happened that I have decided to stop writing and move on to some other hobby. And each time, each single time, this blog has drawn me back to writing, much like a magnet attracts iron filings. No, I am not the iron filings. I think when many years down the line I will actually have lost the capability to sit at a computer anymore, my future generations would be proud that although their grandfather was really not famous, he did not give up his hobby, and that he persisted at what he liked. And thinking about that makes me happy.

Of course, I could maintain a personal journal. An interesting story out here is that when I was in first year of my college, I had initially started writing on OneNote because my diary ran out of paper, and I was being lazy and not buying a new one. So it went one for that for a couple of months or more, and then one day, a friend of mine read a poem out of my laptop. He was really impressed he said, and he suggested that I should start writing on a blog so that others could read what I wrote. I told him then, that I was not really writing for others, I just wrote because it made me happy. He said, “Yeah you be happy, but this might make others happy too.” I think that was the moment I realized I should start maintaining a weblog. I started one on Blogger, but it really did not turn out well, and I lost interest in it. After almost a month’s gap, I started writing here on WordPress. To my surprise, people left likes and a couple of comments on my posts. I had not expected that back then. I had thought I would write, maybe I would share the links with my friends and they’d read. But strangers reading my posts, however few they might have been back then, was really a motivating factor that drove me to write more. And thus I started my journey of blogging. And here I am, five years down the line.

Throughout years, I have shifted my focus to various topics, from love in 2010 to being mostly dreamy in 2015. This year my plans are a bit different. This year I plan to write about happiness. I feel there are too many people out here who write melancholic posts. And I am one of them, and I do not know if you would agree to this, but I feel writing posts that have a sad tone is much easier than writing a post about happiness. And so my aim this year is to explore more about happiness, to play with joy and to write about gleeful things. I do not know if I will succeed, maybe I’ll fall back to my old habits again, because habits die hard, but let’s see how things turn out.

If I blog successfully throughout this year, I will accomplish two things. Firstly, I have set a goal of 500 posts by the end of this year. This means that I would have to write another 150 posts this year, which is, to be frank, tough. But I intend to reach this goal if possible, because the last time I set a writing goal for myself was 2014, and I had been successful in it. So let’s see if I can live up to my goal. I would require your support, and maybe a new co-author (yeah, a little bit of cheating never harmed anyone, haha!). The second and more important thing that I wish to achieve this year is to hit 200 followers this year. This is going to be very tough, because I have gained only 135 followers in five years, so getting 65 more this year would be tough. But hey, you can help me in this. Shout out to your friends, tell them if you like my blog, what you like about it, show them a couple of my posts and maybe, just maybe, they’d follow too. Yes, I know I am being a little greedy, but who cares. It is just the beginning of a new year, and having high ambitions is a good thing at this point of time.

So that’s that for now. I do not want to overshoot because frankly I don’t know if this is going to be a boring read for you. But hey, I completed my first assignment, and I am a step closer to better blogging! Feels good to know that, eh? Have a good day you, and I’ll see you again with a new post soon.

Blogging U.

#4 – The Beginning

Sometimes I dreamed about Father. He looked thinner than when I last remember seeing him, and I always had the same dream. He pushing me to and fro on a swing in a lush green meadow on a spring afternoon, and we are both happy and shouting, and suddenly from out of nowhere a riot breaks out, people come towards us holding lathis and guns, and Father standing in front of me, protecting me from all of them, and shouting, “What do you want?” And instead of getting a reply, someone shoots him, and he falls. That was the dream. And the same dream kept on coming every now and then; I did not know why. This had never happened in real life. In real life, Father was quite different. He used to toil hard on the fields and by the time he came back home, he hardly had any energy left to strike a conversation with Mother or me. He used to eat, then take out a bottle of rum from one of his cupboards, drink and go off to sleep. He was very silent at home, no fun and no frolic, unlike the dream. Perhaps the dream was what I really wanted in my real life, only the former part of the dream though.

How I ended up in this city with Aunt and Uncle and Sam is a long story, and it starts way back with my grandmother. Grandma was nearly seventy and she needed treatment for her ailing back. It was not possible where we lived, and so Mother and Father arranged for her trip to the city. Since she was to go alone, and since that was unsafe given the current situations (riots had just broken up in Delhi and a lot of people were being killed unnecessarily, and a lot of trains were being burnt without any reason), my parents decided it would be nice if I could accompany her. Not that I would be of much help, they knew that. But then that was not how it all started. To start would mean to go to the beginning and explain how all of our lives intersected and how I am what I am today. It all started back in 1932 when in a small house in a corner of the world, a baby was born.

In autumn he was born and was a fair lad. A few more autumns came and went by and he struggled to live the way he wanted. For around him were talks of independence and wars. He saw Gandhi walk around, and did really consider him his idol, and in one of those fair summers, he learned how it felt to breathe freely. 15th of August it was and it was 1947, and the British had left India in the hands of Indians and then what we did of that all of us know. He married the prettiest girl in town and they had a gorgeous daughter who married a handsome man and they had a handsome son and thus I opened my eyes to this world. It all seemed distant now, yet to go to the beginning sometimes means to search for one’s roots, search what one actually came here for, and try to live up to that motto once you finally find out your purpose.

And so that was how it all began. My life. And a few years later, so it was that I was transported along with Grandma’s luggage to a posh town, where everything was ten times faster, where breathing required skill, and where being rustic meant you were stupid. Yet it had only started. As Grandma used to say, “Child, this is only the beginning.”

#3 – The Maid

Perhaps all my mistakes cannot be simply attributed to the fact that I lived at Aunt’s. I used to make a lot of social mistakes, about which I was given long lectures every evening as to what I should do and what I should not. For example, while I thought it was normal to go out and say Hello to people when Uncle threw a dinner to his colleagues, I was taught that I should not barge into the drawing room, and that no one was really interested in saying hello to me anyways. I was a quick learner, and the next time people came, I didn’t go out at all, and was later reprimanded about the fact that I turned up late at dinner and had made the guests wait at the dinner table. Life here was confusing to say the least.

I managed to become friends with Esha when I was ten years old. Her mother worked as a maid at Aunt’s, and sometimes when it was a Sunday, she used to bring her daughter over to our house. Aunt would give them some food, and they would thank us and go home after the household chores were done. It was a strict no-no for me to befriend the maid’s daughter, but she was with who I felt the most comfortable. We shared kind of same thoughts. We both thought it was really cool to talk to strangers, because otherwise how would we ever make friends? We both wore clothes that weren’t new, and had been handed down from someone else. Well I used to do that before I came to Aunt’s, but she understood.

So it was that every Sunday we played in our room for hours. I did not have many toys, but she had some which she used to bring over. She was the best ever. She told me how she wanted to go to school, and that her mother did not have enough money. I told her how school was really horrible, and that she should be happy she never went. She wouldn’t like it one bit, I knew. The other students would bring fancy things for lunch, and would mock her if she ever went there. It had happened with another student one day, I remembered. Once she brought a Snakes and Ladders board, and we spent an entire day playing the game. When Aunt came home at night and asked me what I had done the entire day, I narrated enthusiastically about Esha and her board game.

Esha’s mother lost her job as a housemaid when Aunt learned of the new budding friendship between Esha and me. I was slapped in front of Esha, and told how wrong it was on my behalf to call her to my room and let her sit on my bed and use my toys. “Are you mad? Don’t you even slightly care about what I say?” she asked. I did not want to infuriate her any further, but I could already see tears tricking down Esha’s eyes. “Sorry, memsahab,” said her mother. Her mother reprimanded Esha, saying that it was entirely her fault and not mine for one, and that she would correct things and never bring her to our house, but please let her continue with her job, else how would she feed her family? Aunt rejected the offer almost instantaneously, and that was the last time I saw Esha and her mother. I learned that day how so many lives could be devastated only by small gestures of rich families. She would find a job no doubt, everyone needed a maid at home, but would that be easy to find? I did not care as much about that as I cared about the fact that I had lost my only friend forever.

So I went back to my regular life. Aunt asked me ever so politely to help her with the household chores for the time being until she found a new maid. I helped her enthusiastically, trying to wipe off the red marks, the bad impression that she had formulated about me. I kept helping her for some time, until I realized this was just a ploy. Aunt never got a new maid, and I never went back to school. It worked good for her both ways. I learned that day how even kith and kin really only care about themselves.