Sitting by the open window on a bus with the wind in my hair and the crispy sun on me, oh such a nice picture. But it is the map in my hands, the places-to-go on my mind and the stops that I make that give me a purpose to it all. With all that lucky feeling inside, I've very nearly no regrets in life so far. But the few that I write below must be the only ones, but I like them. They're the stops I missed while I fell into a slumber and keep reminding me to sit up, keep my wits ever so sharp and watch out for exciting turns!
I regret outgrowing a few things. Dad used to ride a motorbike well until I was in school so I could ride on it seated behind him. And I loved it that I could smell his hair. In all those frightening moments, I could hug him like I'd hug a never-to-budge-rock that he is. While he watched news on TV with all seriousness, I could sit beside him and note all those features on his hands until he'd affectionately yell - "What're you doing?". That I could be endlessly lazy around my mum. Hide behind her, wrapped in the free end of her saree to feel safe. The love of one's parents is the one absolute version of it and I feel full of regret to have outgrown it. To the point that I perhaps don't need it any more. What a pity, indeed. But then, perhaps it isn't meant to be drawn out of for ever, nor returned. May be meant to be passed on. I think I am going to spoil my nephew :-).
Dad had a house with a huge garden. We had T, the four legged, tail wagging fur ball of an angel. Brother and I took turns in chasing him or being chased by him, and in walking him, bathing him and taking endless pictures of him in myriad poses :-). Mum did the part of feeding him and driving him to the regular visits to the vet's. All dad had to do was put his feet up on the coffee table, slouch on his couch reading the newspaper and have the obedient fur buddy sit beside admiring him! And I wanted to be my dad then! Wonder if kings had it any better :p. I have this unshakable perception that families with pets signify a certain abundance. You have enough affection to share it everyone else and some more to shower on other precious creatures. And to now have a life with long work hours, uncertainty as a built-in and travel as an inevitable feature; I hopelessly, very deeply regret not being able to have a pet. A real man's real pet of a dog. I hope I succeed in digging my tent deep enough some day and be able to do it.
The other last regret is also the much bigger version of the tiny little bit of jealousy I feel towards all those people who have serious hobbies that they've nurtured for all their lives. Some of my friends can play music, some paint, some do sports and some create endless nice things from nothing. I see such serious indulgence in things of interest to be one additional layer to one's personality that I so regret not having. Probably the last of the layers when one's denuded of all others; the one that lets you gracefully and self-assuredly use your time even when everything else is a little dud. I hope reading counts :p! And then, perhaps I should grow Bonsai :-)
See how nice it is to have regrets and also the remedies to it? :-).
Friday, December 25, 2009
My Only Regrets.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Spooky
We must fall back upon the old axiom that when all other contingencies fail, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. - Sherlock Holmes, in The Adventure of the Bruce-Partington Plans.
This must be how ghosts were born. When you can't explain some strange phenomenon; the para normal's like the wild card that'll always fit. Well I'm not the one to believe in any of it but that's not to say I haven't had those spooky moments.
I remember this one night when I was reading a particularly boring book in bed only to be shaken awake to a sudden rap of a noise. At once so loud and reverberating so hard that it startled me. I knew distinctly that it came from within the house but I couldn't find out the source! I'm alone in the house and the doors are locked alright. Windows are closed too, that being a cold December night. I just couldn't go to sleep until I'd found the source of the noise until I was out of my mind trying every possibility I could think of - dropping a book from the edge of the bookshelf, dropping the pen stand from the table, tumbling down a pot from the kitchen platform, pulling down the broom stick standing in the closet corner to a fall, what not! I remember it must be the end of the third hour that I finally discovered the source. You see, I have the habit of leaving the toilet seat up (yes yes.. yet another of the luxuries of being single :p) and the seat hinge is taut enough that I must've left the seat rightly in balance that it could fall back and land on the tank with a thud or fall over the toilet with a rap. Ummmm... I don't remember having more contented a sleep than the one that followed the discovery :-).
But this one experience totally takes the cake!! It was during those late hours you put in on the night before the big project submission at college, most of it spent arguing with your mates on who's to be blamed for the fiasco; until you're all droopy and slog over the very little can be done. Three of us in a apartment on the top floor of a high rise apartment with the door to the balcony open and nearly all of the town outside fast asleep. There was this sudden fluttering noise coming from the balcony that we just couldn't ignore anymore. We had to find out! The eeriest part of it was that the fluttering would stop the moment we went out to the balcony. Step In - flutter - peek out - queer silence. Step In - flutter - peek out - queer silence. Step In - flutter - peek out - queer silence. We tried all combination - close the door, toggle the lights, hush-up, rake up noise, and then try all of them in various other combination. None could either completely stop or expose the source of the noise. We must have been at our wits end when we finally decided to move all of the pile of boxes heavy with trash and lying in the balcony since Ghenghis Khan invaded India. And voila!!!!! Ooooout flew a pigeon when there were the last few boxes left. The fluttering was so erratic and inexplicable, that it totally slipped out of our senses that it could be some living creature. You just wouldn't think of it when all of the balcony is gated with a grill with barely a fist sized object that could pass through it. We must have been scared sweaty for a few hours right until the minute after which we were again sweating out our convulsive giggles and the rolling on the floor and debating who was more chicken. The project was a dud show but what a night!!!. We created the stuff for the reunions to come in place of reports that gather dust any which ways :-).
Watching 1408 late the other night, I was reminded of all those spooky-funny moments in life. What a promising start for a scary movie, for once almost make me look under the bed for monsters and check the front door :p But alas, the promises weren't kept for the entire length of the movie. But so long as you have such rich memories to bring on, you've still got those goose pimples!