That is how I know you.

You put your hands in your pockets and whistle away. 

Don't ask me how I know.

I just happen to ...

You wake up exactly at six in the morning every single day.

Don't ask me how I know.

I just happen to ...

You prefer tea to coffee and just know more way. 

Don't ask me how I know.

I just happen to ...

I have invaded your dreams and intrigued you.

Don't ask me how I know.

That is how I know you.

To Pray or not to ... ?

Prelude : I kept my promise today. I'm back with a post.

My first tryst with prayer was mainly due to my gluttony. Yeah,you read it right ! A sin-laden virtuous beginning. As they say, it is the age of Kali.

I remember my father saying prayers in the puja room, scent of incense wafting in air, the little bell ringing and the beautiful peda(a sweet) served on tiny copper plates. Needless to say, I loved peda and that drove me to that room itself. Yes ! Temple bells fascinated me. It felt awesome to wake up someone from a nice siesta.

At school, we had prayers at the assembly, before classes and after classes too. I hear some schools have prayers before lunch break too. The words still remain etched in my mind. Serene. Pure. Just as I told them then. Without much understanding of course.

There came a phase in life where I stopped praying. I rationalized that there is no one to listen. So why waste time ? After all, one cannot be fooled all the time. I never was a big-time temple goer. So it didn't quite bother me much.

But,there is always a sting in the tail. I came to peace with myself. The raging war within waned with time. Maybe it is still on with a considerably low intensity. I feel there was no reason now to get angry with anyone. Maybe its the cycle of karma. Or something else I cannot lay my finger upon right now.

I re-visited those old prayers. Their words. Meaning. Significance... to a certain extent. I realized that I was lucky enough to be taught to pray. To believe in someone who can do everything. Not that I got my bag of excuses for a lifetime but someone whom I can pour out all my troubles. Anytime. Free of cost ( I told you, it is the age of  Kali). They may not warranty fulfillment but yeah, a sense of comfort is guaranteed.

It took me long to know it well. Prayer is not about give and take, its about self-actualization.  

Coming back to writing

They say old habits die hard. I guess it should be "Bad habits die hard".
I painstakingly wrote this blog in my early days, made a lot of new friends, revived old friendships, established a brand of writing , won accolades from fellow bloggers and one fine day .... suddenly there is nothing. No writing, no visitors and no inspiration to write.
A lot to crib about,right ?
But this ain't gonna happen anymore. Robin Sharma da promise ! I shall shamelessly write, share the links wherever I can and bask in glory once again. The attention seeker is back ! With a bang. Now that the sleeping lion has awoken, there are some promises to make.

This space will be updated everyday from now on. No matter how dead tired I am (of doing nothing worthwhile).

Chalo,promise liya hai toh nibhaana padega ( Every promise deserves fulfillment ). #Muft-ka-gyaan

Mondays are tough ; eye candy helps.

I made this collage on Picasa last week. I guess there isn't anything more soothing to my eyes than this assortment. So I am going to go on why I chose these eight men (I wrote my last post with the number eight connection ... and now these eight men ! Huh ! For the novice, eight is the number of Saturn/Shani Maharaj).
In case you are wondering why I sound so superstitious, let me remind you - I just shrugged off my  bad habits, their effects still remain - potent and lethal.

Yeah,coming back to my men .. err, you know the men in the picture.

#Hrithik Roshan - Greek god. I thank you for Guzaarish. I absolutely loved the movie. And perhaps you in it.

#Abhay Deol - Socha Na Tha. I never thought it would make an impact on me. I loved you for doing that movie.

#Milind Soman - You stole the heart of a six year old with your looks in the album "Made in India". I guess you are Adonis in human form.

#Kunal Kapoor - The noodles-like hair, the unshaven face, the intensity of the eyes. I first noticed you in Meenaxi and the rest is chemistry ( Look at that, I have invented a phrase in you pyaar. See ! Love does awesome things to you #muft-ka-gyaan).

#Leonardo Di Caprio - Jack. You were made for Titanic. Did you know that ? Even after a decade and a half, I remember you as Jack.

#Arjun Bajwa - Guru. Clean shaven, sauve, sophisticated. Aur kya chahiye ? Fashion. The quintessential nice guy.

#Gerard Butler - I don't like the sound of your surname. But, how can I forget P.S. I love you ? Enough said I guess.

#Siddharth Narayan - The intense, brooding RDB guy. That's enough to get hooked to you.

~The Abrupt End

EIGHT MINUTES

Eight minutes.

I deserved eight minutes of his time.

A two day train journey and two hours of bumpy ride.

All this just to tell him “Hi! I still do”.

He was polite. Of the three hours I spent at his lobby, the girl offered me coffee thrice.

He said he was tired. He thinks differently. Our lives are different.

Children grow up. They will anyway.

He did not say but I guess broken hearts mend too. 

P.S. : This post was conceived and typed in 8 minutes.

Hence the title. No relation with "Eleven Minutes" by Paulo Coelho. 

Notes on something

I had promised myself that I would write here oftener.
I broke it. Like I have been breaking promises since ages.
I feel guilty about it. Maybe a little more this time.
I do not know why. Is it because I realize I have run out of time ?
Too old to run,breathe,think,feel,take risks.
My mistakes have not ruined me. I am ruined on my own.
I feel trapped in the open. Pictures do not speak to me anymore.
But I am not in a mood to give up. Not anymore.