Notes Of A Bride-To-Be. #1

Meetu gave her way-to-go-about-looking-for-a-mate mantra.

“Judge how much you’d have to change for this person.”

Following had been my selection criteria and it can be different for different people, but I have a feeling that the more intellectually inclined people will understand what I'm saying here (or so I would like to think). :D

I was looking for "THE GUY", not the "The Right Guy" because there IS no such thing. This was my marking system, a system where you will never get a full 100%... (let me stress again) because there is not such a thing as the "The Right Guy":

a) Talk it out and see if and how the guy fits into what you want for your future. If he wants the same/similar things... 10 points scored!

b) Try and see if you can identify where the guy is coming from. Let me explain; I strongly believe that where, how, and what of a person's background affect who the person is today. If you can do some digging and find the origin... 10 more points scored!

c) See if both of you "like" (not necessarily love) to do the same things in your free time (coz you'll be spending most of your free-time with your significant other). If you can find atleast 2-3 things that match... 10 points again!

d) See what the guy likes and you completely dislike. If it's not more than 2 things... 10 more points!
(thats where Meetu's mantra comes in, coz this is prolly how much you will have to change)

e) Meet him under different conditions, for example, meet him where he is in his comfort zone, meet him outside his comfort zone and again in a neutral zone. This will give you a fair idea if the guy is really what he says he is. If he is almost the same under all those different situations, he most likely isn't faking it. 10 more points!

f) Meet his family. If you like the family, 10 points!

g) If you can have long conversations with him without "much" effort. 10 points again!

After all is said and done, 70% is a good enough score for you to jump into marriage. And I use the word "jump" because you will never be ready for marriage until you actually jump into it. At least I am unaware of any person who was "ready"!

I intend to continue this with more of my notes... because life continues after the JUMP and brings with a lot of surprises! Trust me! :D

My Morrie.

The story said that the heavens cry with you when a loved soul departs this world.

Nice story.

"Right, then hardly any African or for that matter Indian souls were ever loved! Bloody the countries live in continuous state of droughts."

I take back my words.

The 13th day of mourning my Morrie. The day the soul departs the realms of this world and enters heaven. The day you say your final goodbyes...

... it rained!

Of Memories With My Morrie. #1

He is not Morrie. Morrie was old, he is not! And it's terribly hard for me to accept Morrie's fate as his fate. I refuse to! He is someone who means a lot to me, Morrie meant a story.

I realized for the very first time the FACT that he is *my* Morrie.

My Morrie says, "Separate your FACTS from EMOTIONS; Facts + Emotions = Fiction. If you can't do that, you cannot get results."
He explained this to me, his voice reduced almost to a squeak, his hands swollen, on the side, his jaundiced face and eyes, desperately looking at me, trying to keep them open so that he could talk to me. The man was frozen inside his own flesh.

And, like a fool I could not comprehend what he was saying. I felt like a wretched being who was making him go through hell to explain this simple Fact.

My Morrie began teaching me his lessons a very long time ago. I met him for the first time in the summer of 1990 and now, sadly, I see the lessons coming to an end. It has been more than 18 years of teaching, teaching and discussing, dicussing and arguing, arguing and accepting and then be done with the topic (...only till sometime later. I want there to many laters. Many many more laters). Discussing inane matters is always fun with him. I learnt to talk about philosophy like a grown-up from him. He questioned me, grilled me to no end. He made me read books, gave me examples from my life, he explained away and I enjoyed listening to him irrespective of whether or not I understood what he was talking about. I know no-one else understood us. I don't suppose anyone was as foolish as the two of us, our philosphical pair.
He has understood me more than any living mortal can ever boast of and he has influenced me in more ways than I can think of en ce moment. He has been a part of all the major decisions I have taken in my life and wanted it to stay that way...

I am writing this series to chronicle the final lessons he is teaching me, so that I won't forget anything. Anything and everything he says to me from now will be his last words to me. Immensely precious.

Of Solitude and Such.

I love being alone. I like to be myself amongst the madness and the maddening. I cherish my solitude.

There have been times recently when I felt it's cold fingers creeping into me like a chill, clutching my heart and gut, wrenching till I felt hard painful knots forming deep in my throat.

I feel like I'm slipping into a dark void, a supermassive black hole.

Our hopes and expectations
Black holes and revelations

Am I a lonely being or a being who is lonely?

*Twitch* *twitch* *twitch*...

It's midnight. I am tired. I'm supposed to be writing my "Statement of Purpose". And it doesn't help that I have to try real hard to make myself *sound* interesting to a bunch of old professors who I (for some reason) find extraordinarily interesting.

Neil is not replying to email. I am thinking... Is he pissed with me? Is he annoyed? Or is it just me?

Classes have started. I still have to prepare for tomorrow's class. I haven't prepared for any of the classes I'm supposed to take this semester.

My stupid computer is acting weird. Runtime error, it seems! Gah!

I haven't exercised in the last 3 days. It's driving me up the wall.

It has been confirmed today (by two *nice* people) that I am impossible.

Mumma isn't home. I miss my Mumma. I want my Mummmaaa! *waaaaaahhh* I want my Mumma now!

Blah. Life!

I am tired. I want to sleep. But my eyes are WIDE OPEN. I am twitching like a bloody junkie, and all I had was dosa-sambar.

My brain refuses to go to sleep. It wants to keep thinking. (I wish I knew what it wants to think.)

Did I say this before? I am tired.

Blaaarrrrrgghhh. Life!

*Sigh*

*Sigh*

*Sigh*

Why am I writing this post? I honestly don't know. You tell me.

Song Beneath The Song.

I absolutely love things that are beneath other things; the things unsaid, the subtle, obscure, hidden meanings that usually go unnoticed by "them". (for future references, "them" is the general, insignificant lot! bah!) I guess, no, I think, it makes a piece of work/art a lot closer to the creator's/artist's self. (I want to give this thought a little more thought, maybe another blog-post, some other day!)

I was listening to 'Song Beneath The Song' by Maria Taylor. I was moved more than I considered myself capable.

Hmmm, so why does my heart feel so heavy?

"Song Beneath The Song"

Cryptic words meander
Now there is a song beneath the song
One day you'll learn
You'll soon discern its true meaning
An interesting detachment
A listless poem of love sincere
Desire, despair
Overlapping melodies

And it's not a love, it's not a love
It's not a love, it's not a love song

And now the loops are reminiscing
Recurring dreams of minor chords
Metered time
Muted chimes find the beat

And in the pulse there lies conviction
A steady push and pull routine
Till cymbals swelled
High notes fell into reach

And it's not a love, it's not a love
It's not a love, it's not a love song.

--Maria Taylor.

There is so much undefined pain, so much undefined hurt and yet through all the undefined-ness (?!)I could still, strangely identify with it! it's not the simple sadness, there is something about this song that intrigued me immensely, and without knowing what that was, I still felt that I had experienced it somewhere... at some lost locus within the length of my lifetime...am I making any sense?! anyways, I hope I am, it's so hard to articulate such complex thoughts and emotions).
No-no, don't get any wrong notions about my life, it has been almost perfect (touch-wood!), no complaints there, but the song struck a chord somewhere, stirred something within me which I had forgotten existed; somethings I had shut in a closet to be forgotten is more like it.

In 'High Fidelity', says Rob Gordon, "I wanna live with a musician. She'd write songs at home and ask me what I thought of them, and maybe even include one of our little private jokes in the liner notes."
Listening to that... all I wanted to scream out was...."Me tooo!!" (just replace the 'she' with 'he', of course! :D)

Sorry, I digress. So, coming back to this song, it sort-of, seems to belong to the category of such private songs written especially, with personal liner by the poet somewhere. *sigh* [I dunno why I sighed, just felt like a sigh would sum up all the things that I'm leaving unsaid! :)]

Someday. Someday, someone is going to write a beautiful song about me, a song for me. Someday.

On that thought, I will sign off.

P.S.: I just want to add, rather urge you to listen to this song...'Song Beneath The Song', it's lovely!