The Big Day.

                                                                  PART I

She stood there, in front of the mirror in her wedding dress. Big day she thought. Do I really want this? she felt sick and anxious. She wasn't the only one in the room. Next to her was her mother and cousins and sister in laws mocking each other and joking about who is getting married next. In all of that chaos, when her mother says, that she had only spent 21 years of her life in her mother's house but 38 years with her husband, the panic kicked in. There was so much confusion all of a sudden. In all the married couples, all the relationships she had seen and had been into she never really saw the endurance of what people called love. It was there but then it was more like 'I know you are always going to be by my side, so why should I care?' She felt like she was choking, and as if the heater was at full blast in the middle of December. She excused herself to the rest room, and even though it was difficult to wash her face because it would ruin everything done on her face from the last 30 minutes by the make up guy, she wanted to cool down.
   Finally picking up the phone she calls her fiancé, "Hello?"
"Hey baby, what happened, I thought if we weren't supposed to see each other, we weren't even supposed to talk. Everything okay?"
"I don't know if I can do this"
"What happened? Are you okay?"
"No I am not, there is something inside me that says this is the end. The end of all that I've felt for you all these years. I really feel so scared, I dont want this to be over, its like I am so sure this is not going to be the same after some years. And after a decade or so we might even hate those things about each other because of which we fell in love"
"Okay, wait. Just do me one favor, will you?"
"Yes?"
"Meet me on the second floor, room number 216"

She hung up the phone. Got out of the washroom, and went straight to her best friend. "Shruti!", "There you are, what were you doing in there for so long? You have to understand we have only an hour to get all this done Shweta, we wont get it done if you keep wasting time!" 
"No Shruti wait! I am not feeling very well, I need some fresh air. I'll be back in about fifteen minutes, please dont be mad?"
"Fifteen minutes?! Are you crazy? We'll have to reschedule everything!"
"Please?" She said with a voice that made Shruti realize something wasn't right. "What happened? Are you alright?" "Second thoughts about this whole thing.." "What whole thing? This decoration? I told you to look through properly before deciding, you were so con..." "No, not the decoration! This thing, this marriage"
"Okay, do one thing, go get some fresh air, everybody gets cold feet before they do something big, just breathe a little"
"See you in a bit"
"Please don't be too long"
She reached the second floor, and knocked on the door of room 216. He opened the door and smiled at her. She went in, and hugged him. "You okay?"
"Not exactly"
"What happened?"
"I am scared"
"What scares you?"
"Honestly I don't know! Maybe that this is only chance I have, and I really don't to mess up. Or may be I could be doing so many other things than taking up this huge responsibility. There was even a time in my life when I swore never to get married, was I right then? Should I have traveled more? Should I be doing more things that I cant ever do again?"
"Listen sweetheart, we're only getting married, not dying!"
"Then why do I feel like I am choking?
"Do you want to do this some other time?" "Do what?"
"The wedding?"

Tip Of The Iceberg.

So many times I describe myself as something and then I realize No! Thats not me! That is someone else. I never truly understood who or what I really am. I believe in Zodiac a lot, maybe because of too many co-incidences. Born on 9th of March, I am a Pisces. But the moon sign says am also a Capricorn. Pisces is fragile and sensitive. Capricorn is ambitious and hates failing. I think its a deadly combination.
   How I like mellow music and Metal or Hard rock. They're opposite, but I love them.
Sometimes its like I am constantly on a war with my own self. The calm one, or the one who shouts and doesn't stop? The one who asks, or the one who hold's it in? A very common fight that the voices in my head have is, "No, this is the right thing. I should do this. This wont harm anyone. Maybe would harm me. But at least that is not a mistake then" when the other voice says, "What are you doing? Don't do this! You know how much you've waited for something nice to happen. Don't let this chance go."
   One part of me wants to be in the crowd, laugh and dance, but the other just doesn't know how to fit in, so it wants to be alone and not make mistakes. She wants to be that person, who travels the world, lives, does. Wants to do those things that she finds so much fun, but is so afraid and doesn't know how to handle things. So she'd rather prefer being somewhere under the blanket and escape all of it. And not only escape the bad parts, but also the ones she wants to experience.
   When just one thing makes her feel like another person altogether who is worth nothing, that phase lasts longer than the phase where she feels like she can conquer the world. I wouldn't categorize those voices are good and bad. They're both me. But it is definitely what I choose to give out.
That one feeling, of seeing the smile fade away from anyone's face, frightens me.

Creativity

Whats creativity? Creation, right? Creating something that didn't exist. Does creativity even exist? I mean, you think of something, and say, "Hey! This is my new awesome idea!" and you Google it, and someone's already done it. Telephone was something people thought of creating together being in different parts of the world. Same was with the airplane. So, what is it? Why so much talk about being creative. Well, I guess, just the fact that everyone wants to be recognized, everyone wants attention.
   Creativity can be organized. Creativity can be fragmented. Creativity can be randomness. Is anything ever going to be completely original? I ask too many questions don't I? But that's somewhere my creation, asking rhetorical stuff. Creativity doesnt even necessarily have to make sense. It can just be some creation. Like this text here- "hujllbizaahtrfsg hindfrvknguj,pomkbbumlojnyt! tto bjnimm inu?" On  the exact same thing, I can also say, everything done is creative. The exact same thing has something different to it. If someone says something, and I repeat it, there is going to be something different in my tone, pronunciation, and the sound of my voice. I can state a creative story, that doesn't make even a bit of sense. Or even if there is sense, its just not something that is possible, or may be just some broken stuff rearranged.

Random Creation: You're walking, you suddenly fall into a small puddle, which actually is just nothing. All of a sudden, there is whiteness around you. Nothing else. Just white. Can be color, can be light. You cant open your eyes, the white is getting closer. You accidentally touch it and it starts to burn. It gets unbearably hot and you catch fire. And then you think of the puddle, and you're back to the water. You wonder what just happened. Was it a dream? Were you day dreaming? Why would to day dream about something so weird or morbid? Maybe most questions don't have have answers. Or if they do, they would just be as weird as the question itself.

Courage.

Every single thing done in consciousness needs courage. Sometimes ignorance helps. I blame my childhood for being such a cowherd. I wouldn’t talk to anyone. Refused to go to loud places with people. To top it all, I had low blood pressure as a child. Whenever I would panic I would faint. My parents would go to every teacher in my school to tell them what precautionary measures to take if I was going to fall unconscious or if I already have. So teachers probably just threw me into a category of weak, or disabled. Out of pity they would restrict me from playing games normal kids did. Seemed fun then, now it just feels like I was taught to be aloof.
  It feels more like a way of life now, like its ALWAYS awkward talking to someone. Its always difficult to answer something. Afraid of making a mess. Afraid of hurting someone. Afraid of making a fool of myself. When I try so hard teaching myself that they don’t matter. No one does. But it just never leaves my head. Instead of me wanting someone else to help me through it, I wish someday I can just be, be me. Be happy being me. Not kill myself, my desires, only because I am worried about who is going to be thinking what about me. I don’t get it. What makes it so hard? Why have I become something I don’t want to be?

Why fit in a box?

Being something everyone expects you to be why is it so necessary? Why is it that there are certain rules or unwritten laws one has to follow… The reason I am talking about this, is when I had longer hair, everyone loved them. Thats what a girl is supposed to have, long hair. At least in the Indian culture, its a necessity. Like her pride, or her dignity. When a woman’s husband died (who is considered her ‘God’) all her hair was shaved off, this now only prevails in villages. Traditionally, The hair wasn’t even shaven, they were pulled off! Can you imagine the agony?! Sometimes it just feels like the woman is being decorated, like an object. With all the ornaments, all the make up… The way the Indian cinema treats them, they call the songs with the sexy women, ‘item numbers’. Yep. They are items. Objects.
What I feel is that women, have grown into it. They now want to be treated like that. Conditioned themselves into ‘itemizing’ themselves. So heres what happened - I decided, I wanted to experiment with my hair. I have my own ways of reminding myself that I am free to do things with my life. So I chopped them off. Reactions I got from people were shocking. “What did you do!?” “OH MY GOD!” “ARE YOU CRAZY?”
Its not like a woman is less beautiful with short hair. One reaction in particular really upset me. My best friend, who now I know for sure is conditioned too. She was very upset, not because I looked bad or anything, but because people around me would say things. I mean, Whats the big deal?! Its just hair! And I am not saying I hated my hair, I loved them too, I just wanted to look different. I just dont want to be decorated. I am happy being simply me. If you dont like being told what to do, what right do you have telling others?

How I Always Wished…

How I always wished I was a bird… Or someone who can just head off, and explore… And be something else. Or someone more interesting than I am. May be I am interesting, that part of me wont just come out. Looking up to the sky, makes me so happy… So overwhelmed. Certainly not a feeling of satisfaction, but then I cant decide which is better. Being extremely happy or being calm and content? I guess, its just what I want to feel, is what matters.
   So, there I saw so much of sky and right above me a tiny little bird flying through. And the desire floods though my heart. Hinduism says that a soul takes a lot of births to come to this birth as a Human being. Considered to be a very important birth. I mean, yes they’re given good things like more brain and a lot of other privileges, but I think the birds must be so happy, so much luckier!
    After having visited the forest, and having seen so many beautiful birds when I got back to my city, once walking down the road I saw at least ten birds in a cage. Something inside me really wanted to cry. How can they do this to such innocent creatures? They are all so free… How can they do this to freedom?

That Sacred Place Called Heart.

Always wondered how everyone said hearts are broken, and how things are thought by the mind and only felt by heart. Always thought it was just plain stupid to think that brain had nothing to do with it. Well scientifically it really really does. But, yes, I have felt otherwise strongly. Like when the first time I felt I was madly in love, and was dumped, I felt something, some actual burning sensation inside my chest, inside my heart that I just couldn't stop. Like there was something pinching me inside, like I would never feel normal again. But of course, in some time everyone realizes its better to move on and get on with your own lives. How I keep craving for something new, for someone new. How I can never really settle for one thing. May be I am not meant for that! May be I always want to keep searching, may be thats my hobby! I mean, how can I just have one thing if I can see so much right there in front of me? How can I not be everything that I want to be? Why shall I choose ONE, just one? Isn't it unjust? I am not good at just one activity. I mean, sure, I like singing, I like writing, I like photography, I like reading, I love music, I like traveling... But, how can these compete?! Why cant I do EVERYTHING, just everything? May be there isn't that much time... Or I guess I am way too hesitant, or lazy for being so extra ordinary. But, there is nothing extra ordinary in loving so many things!
   And probably, its not just with activities or things, its also with people. No one likes to choose. Why cant I love everyone, equally? Whats the point in binding someone, saying, "Hey, your mine, and you have to be with me, and love only and only me and only and only things that I love until you die." Don't you feel the cruelty in it already? Picture yourself as a bird. A very happy, free, kind, bird that loves going around and spreading love and being with people, and there comes a man, who woes you by giving back love... but well, that what you've wanted because thats how you thought the world works. So, after you're lured, he puts you in a cage, because he wants to preserve your beauty and he says that he will love you like that. But the reality is, that what he did love about you was that sense of freedom, or that happiness that you had when you could fly and love and be yourself and not be caged. Thats just murder, its cruelty. Sometimes, that man, also likes other birds that he wants to cage, but your not allowed to see anything else but the cage and the man.
So what is it that I want? I dont know. Do I want to be free? YES. Do I want to fly far? YES! Am I afraid? Yes. But the point is, I dont want to regret. The time I've spent on my free will, I don't want to look back and say I could have done so much, now I just have to live with this cage...

Apathetically Bored.

Something is going wrong. I don't know where. Or is it going right? I don't feel those emotions any more. I don't feel the love any more, that fire that I bore inside. That feeling of being sensitive. Is it wrong, is it right? I know it wont give me pain. But might not even have that intoxication any more. I don't feel as tired, like I always complain. May be am just plain bored. Even tired to explain. I want to live, I want to feel I don't want you ranting behind my back talking about me. I don't care what you think of me when you don't even know me, because somewhere you're just at loss.

 Dear sweet baby, our lives are different, we have to part our ways, but at what cost? Just because someone thinks you're wrong, would you accept defeat? I don't understand, is it that we're just not worth it?
  Don't feel that tingle when you touch, neither when you kiss, but still hurts to tell you I don't understand why you aren't the one I miss... Do you think you are trying to save us? Because I just don't see it. You're so consumed within, that you don't worry about who is in pain.