Saturday, 14 April 2012
Thursday, 12 April 2012
Monday, 9 April 2012
"#thatawkwardmoment"
The popular trend on twitter these days is '#thatawkwardmoment" and there are dozens of hilarious phrases that follow. But have you imagined your life being in a continuous state of being in '#thatawkwardmoment"? Well, I guess I am now.
Its been a few months since I have been talking to someone I dearly like. And not to make myself come off too obvious as a loser, let me put it this way - "there has not been any reverse transition or retort in mannerism to reveal any sign of mutual consent to a question that was raised to said recipient, prior to the aforementioned refutation". "#thatawkwardmoment" number 1.
So, being an optimistic opportunist, I decided to stick around and hence became "The Friend". "#thatawkwardmoment" number 2, well, atleast for me it is. So, I went along this uncharted path and began being involved with what was happening around even to the point when the dear lady decided to get herself a love-interest. "Yay!" on the outside, "Boo!" on the inside. "#thatawkwardmoment" number 3.
So I decided to ease up knowing that they should not be bothered as much. "Be there when dear lady needs you", I keep reminding myself. Knowing dear lady, she wouldn't miss me at all. And so, a thought became reality and months passed without any contact. I wasn't missed but she was.
"#thatawkwardmoment" number 4 came when I decided to mend bridges and text her. Dear lady decided to label my return as "crawling back" and I accepted with much repudiation. What other options did I make myself to choose from. I was the one who instigated the second half of our contact.
I now became truly in the friend zone and perhaps no way back. But it was good to hear her voice. The best thing about dear lady is that she has the ability to mentally block out anything she does not desire or the things she consider not worth remembering. And so, much of our prior association was put in a deep freeze.
To put it short, I now am the go-to guy and recently have picked out dear lady's gift for her boyfriend, not my proudest moment to be truthfully honest. Most guys would have jumped out at the first sight of my "#thatawkwardmoment". And sometimes I think to myself, either I'm really stupid or insanely enchanted. Either way this "#thatawkwardmoment" is here to stay on for a while....unless, dear lady reads this blog and then cut off again, which would be another "#thatawkwardmoment".
Sunday, 8 April 2012
Easter Eggs and Cake
If you share the same faith as me, you would agree that without Easter Sunday and what it signifies, Christianity would be for naught. However, I am not here to rant and debate on religion but to share some few thoughts (as I always have) about this day.
Easter in Aizawl has been related to being a rainy day in the past few years. And this year is no different. With my task as the "sound guy" at church I knew I would have a busy day ahead. Arrangements were made for the main hall in our church complex to be converted into an extension where people could sit and view the proceedings live, via, projectors and videos. And I would be in-charge of that hall. An easy job but then, you have to maintain certain audio dimensions so that it at least "sounds" like you were in the church.
I cannot remember the exact figures for attendance but, I gather we were over the 2000 mark, which is a pretty huge number for a single congregation. I was joined in the hall by my fellow sound-guys and as the program started, it was just a matter of monitoring the mixer.
All the while the rain was pouring heavily, with no mercy and the temperature got lower and lower. Fortunately, the rain took a break as the service got over and let through a little sunlight. Tea and Easter eggs were being served in the lower levels of the building and I saw people smiling wide and wishing each other a happy Easter with a handshake. Everyone looked so jubilant. The little kids munched on cakes and some were deeply involved in cracking up their decorated eggs. The elderly, the reverends, moms and dads, teenagers, little children, big officers and businessmen, church elders everyone enjoying the Easter feast. Church is a great equalizer and so should it remain that way. No one too big, no one too small. All equal in the eyes of the Lord.
I wasn't planning on going home and come back to church since it was a long walk so, I decided to stay and wait for the afternoon program. While I was waiting I saw people taking pictures of the various flower-arrangements that was by now damaged by the rain. The flowers were magnificent in the morning when they came in. A friend who lived nearby invited me for some more refreshments at his place and being me, I didn't resists the lure for delicious treats.
Easter has always been a special day and personally for me this year has been more so. As I mature and learn the ways of society, I now realize that people so diverse in their walks of life can come together and sit in one bench and enjoy the day. As Monday comes, their routine will change. Some will sit behind the counter an be "businessmen", others will sit behind their desk and run the state. Others will pack their gear and sweat in their carpentry-shop. It is the way of the world that each person will find means to feed their family and themselves, some perhaps in a less glorifying means than the other. But it is satisfying to know that we have a holy institution where everyone is equal and is viewed as a MAN that they are, a simple creation that would not last a minute without Grace.
Friday, 30 March 2012
Remembering Mom
(This was on my previous blog. Dated 22nd October,2008...with a little
editing. There was suppose to be a Part 2, but it never came to
completion)
Remembering Mom is a celebration of my mother’s life. I hope that people who have lost their loved and dear ones can relate to this and may find that in the course of time, it is well, and though many things have changed, their lives and memories should always be cherished.
It took a lot of time for this one. It’s something on a very deep and personal note so just bear with me. It was hard to write such a thing, especially with all the graphics and images that came back. I saw my mother for just eighteen years, but the memory remains. And all the times we had had been great. Though the years have eroded so many, those special moments can never be lost. 2005 was a tragic year for our family. We had to say our goodbyes to a loving mother, a great wife to her husband and a great friend to many.
I still remember, when I was in my 3rd Standard, fiddling around my dad’s typewriter. One letter at a time, I would manage to type out a whole paragraph. It would take quite a while as you can imagine. Then I started to write poems, a short story or anything that came to mind. One day my mom saw one of the poems. I still remember - “Stars” was the title I gave to it. She read it and must have liked it - she went to the headmistress of a school that I was in at the time and showed it to her. Later that evening, my mom told me about it. Then she handed me back a corrected copy of the poem - with red ink. She said it was a nice poem but I needed to improve on it. Then, she kept it safely. I still read it every chance I get.
My mom loved flowers. The entire house looked like a botanical garden with all the different varieties of plants and flowers around. A greenhouse at the front and at the back terraces of plants, flowers that when they blossomed it had many people in awe. Every morning before brunch she would be tending to her precious flowers. And my dad would tell her to stop or else they would be late for work. But she always took her own sweet time. And I was sure that every morning before I leave for school, I could always find her in the garden, tending her precious flowers. She always looked happy being with them.
Christmas’s has always been fun. Before we bought those plastic Christmas trees, my mom would pick one of her best evergreen and set it out in the living room. Then, she and I would start to decorate it. Bells here, Santa there, stars, here, stockings there-it was all so fun. Then we’d finish it off with a rather big Santa, sitting on the very top of the tree. But I wasn’t done yet. I’d take some cotton wool, spread it out on the base, so that it would look like snow and pose my collection of GI Joe’s there. Even the Cobra’s and the GI’s didn’t fight during Christmas time. Quick Kick, Scrap Iron, Flint, Baroness all enjoyed our lovely tree, sitting casually, enjoying the holidays. Sometimes she would stay up half the night making wreaths and other decors and hang them nicely at different places of the house. Then later she’d be receiving orders from people who wanted to buy wreaths she was making. I wasn’t much help though; all I was interested in was her glue gun.
I’ll never forget the night when mom played Santa. She took this huge sack and filled it up with old clothes of my brothers and me. Then we distributed it to the less fortunate in our neighborhood.
And oh yea, the Christmas I caught “Santa”. I saw mom hiding a stash of goodies and a GI Joe which I had really wanted. She tried to explain that it wasn’t for me, and that Santa would bring my gifts as usual. No mom. I already know that there is no Santa.
But then, as I entered teenage hood, I started to spend less and less time with my mom and dad. Friends became more important then home and I was starting to become a little rebellious, but not too far I guess. No major harm done. We all go through the rebellious years right? Then straight after finishing 10th, I left home for boarding school. Since then I’ve been home for, maybe, just over two months a year. It’s been five years I’ve been living outside my sweet little home town.
After Intermediate got over, I was lucky enough to join an Engg College. Meet some really great friends there. Mom and dad saw my brother, a friend of his and me off at the train station. A moment here, I always hate goodbyes. Not the short ones, but when you know you’re not going to see them for a long time. As the train pulled out I saw both my parents frantically waving goodbyes, then they started to appear smaller and smaller and then I lost them in the crowd. Little did I know that that would be the last time I saw my mom “un-bed-stricken”. Because the next time I saw her, we had to help her just so she could turn to her side.
Remembering Mom is a celebration of my mother’s life. I hope that people who have lost their loved and dear ones can relate to this and may find that in the course of time, it is well, and though many things have changed, their lives and memories should always be cherished.
It took a lot of time for this one. It’s something on a very deep and personal note so just bear with me. It was hard to write such a thing, especially with all the graphics and images that came back. I saw my mother for just eighteen years, but the memory remains. And all the times we had had been great. Though the years have eroded so many, those special moments can never be lost. 2005 was a tragic year for our family. We had to say our goodbyes to a loving mother, a great wife to her husband and a great friend to many.
I still remember, when I was in my 3rd Standard, fiddling around my dad’s typewriter. One letter at a time, I would manage to type out a whole paragraph. It would take quite a while as you can imagine. Then I started to write poems, a short story or anything that came to mind. One day my mom saw one of the poems. I still remember - “Stars” was the title I gave to it. She read it and must have liked it - she went to the headmistress of a school that I was in at the time and showed it to her. Later that evening, my mom told me about it. Then she handed me back a corrected copy of the poem - with red ink. She said it was a nice poem but I needed to improve on it. Then, she kept it safely. I still read it every chance I get.
My mom loved flowers. The entire house looked like a botanical garden with all the different varieties of plants and flowers around. A greenhouse at the front and at the back terraces of plants, flowers that when they blossomed it had many people in awe. Every morning before brunch she would be tending to her precious flowers. And my dad would tell her to stop or else they would be late for work. But she always took her own sweet time. And I was sure that every morning before I leave for school, I could always find her in the garden, tending her precious flowers. She always looked happy being with them.
Christmas’s has always been fun. Before we bought those plastic Christmas trees, my mom would pick one of her best evergreen and set it out in the living room. Then, she and I would start to decorate it. Bells here, Santa there, stars, here, stockings there-it was all so fun. Then we’d finish it off with a rather big Santa, sitting on the very top of the tree. But I wasn’t done yet. I’d take some cotton wool, spread it out on the base, so that it would look like snow and pose my collection of GI Joe’s there. Even the Cobra’s and the GI’s didn’t fight during Christmas time. Quick Kick, Scrap Iron, Flint, Baroness all enjoyed our lovely tree, sitting casually, enjoying the holidays. Sometimes she would stay up half the night making wreaths and other decors and hang them nicely at different places of the house. Then later she’d be receiving orders from people who wanted to buy wreaths she was making. I wasn’t much help though; all I was interested in was her glue gun.
I’ll never forget the night when mom played Santa. She took this huge sack and filled it up with old clothes of my brothers and me. Then we distributed it to the less fortunate in our neighborhood.
And oh yea, the Christmas I caught “Santa”. I saw mom hiding a stash of goodies and a GI Joe which I had really wanted. She tried to explain that it wasn’t for me, and that Santa would bring my gifts as usual. No mom. I already know that there is no Santa.
But then, as I entered teenage hood, I started to spend less and less time with my mom and dad. Friends became more important then home and I was starting to become a little rebellious, but not too far I guess. No major harm done. We all go through the rebellious years right? Then straight after finishing 10th, I left home for boarding school. Since then I’ve been home for, maybe, just over two months a year. It’s been five years I’ve been living outside my sweet little home town.
After Intermediate got over, I was lucky enough to join an Engg College. Meet some really great friends there. Mom and dad saw my brother, a friend of his and me off at the train station. A moment here, I always hate goodbyes. Not the short ones, but when you know you’re not going to see them for a long time. As the train pulled out I saw both my parents frantically waving goodbyes, then they started to appear smaller and smaller and then I lost them in the crowd. Little did I know that that would be the last time I saw my mom “un-bed-stricken”. Because the next time I saw her, we had to help her just so she could turn to her side.
Something that came to mind
What is your past made up off?? Secrets you want to keep hidden?
Mistakes you thought were right at the time, but now you believed you
shouldn't have made? Shattered dreams? Lost of your loved ones? So much
trauma you had to take-off the rear-view mirror?
Its sad that even after hours of motivational speeches and ''pick yourself up'' pep-talk from friends and families, the past glooms above our heads like a dark-black cloud hanging on Archie Andrews head...but if anyone of you have been in this situation and thought its the end or something like a reccuring ulcer then its time you re-arrange your life, prioritize , work on those aspects your weak in. Take your situtation into consideration and work in a way that will most likely satisfy the statement that anything that doesn't kill you will make you stronger . Its a tough, tough ask but there's no harm in trying. And the journey is worthwhile. Doesn't matter where you end up. As long its productive and progressive(You can't measure success with a scale).
And finally, pray....a lot. Because prayer alone is incomplete when there is so much you have to do. Also, deferment could cause you to re-lapse. Try and enjoy the journey, take in the sights and kept an optimistic mind. Remember the glass is always full to the true optimist.
Its sad that even after hours of motivational speeches and ''pick yourself up'' pep-talk from friends and families, the past glooms above our heads like a dark-black cloud hanging on Archie Andrews head...but if anyone of you have been in this situation and thought its the end or something like a reccuring ulcer then its time you re-arrange your life, prioritize , work on those aspects your weak in. Take your situtation into consideration and work in a way that will most likely satisfy the statement that anything that doesn't kill you will make you stronger . Its a tough, tough ask but there's no harm in trying. And the journey is worthwhile. Doesn't matter where you end up. As long its productive and progressive(You can't measure success with a scale).
And finally, pray....a lot. Because prayer alone is incomplete when there is so much you have to do. Also, deferment could cause you to re-lapse. Try and enjoy the journey, take in the sights and kept an optimistic mind. Remember the glass is always full to the true optimist.
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