I wish you a storm

"In the kingdom of the gods, one must be very careful. There are things we cannot do, words we cannot say." These are some, that for different reasons, will never reach their intended destinations in that kingdom.
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You think you know it all. Just as I do. But here is the difference between you and I- I know that everything I stand for and believe in might be wrong. And I hope at least some of it is. But I know this also, and try, most times, to live by this. That commitment and kindness mean more than romantic ideals. That honesty counts for more than chickening out. That sticking through the tough times is worth it.

Because this much I know is true. Life is short and people disappear like summer winds. One minute they are here, talking to you on the phone about wedding dresses and how they suspected that guy you’re about to marry was your boyfriend all along, and the next minute they are gone. Before you can pick up the phone and call ‘when they are better and out of the hospital’. Before their son has a chance to start on his first job or bring a bride home. Before they can even get home from their first family vacation in ten years, they are gone in a crashing disaster of brain and heart and organ failure.

Because life slips away like this: Raw flesh tortured apart by the force of its own life-blood. A little clot that stops your brain that breaks your heart that brings your kidneys to a grinding halt. Because life slips away like this: Not in your sentimental tears and tortured emotions.

This much I know for sure. That blood surges and clots and the color of your bleeding romance will stop you in your tracks forever. This is the nature of blood and of life and of death. And this I can assure you will one day happen to both you and I, regardless of what we stand for today. So spare me your mawkish romance and your bloodshot eyes, your weeping heart and your fragile pretentions of emotion.

In this my parents, my husband and others more patient than I tell me to be kind and move on. Life is short, they remind me, and gone like a cloud in a summer storm. Love the uncle who said, the last time he called, “I’m waiting to see you at _’s wedding.” Remember the affection and hold the memory of shelter and warmth. Life is too short for unkindness, they say.

But on days like this I resonate only with one of my favorite cinematic moments. A scene from American Beauty, of a plastic bag caught in the wind. My words billow with rage and patience is ripped apart by my uncle’s passing.

I have neither time nor space to give you, ex-girlfriend of someone dear. Instead I give you my questions: Why say you were faking your emotions all this while? What sort of a woman are you, so keen on a wedding that you have forgotten what it takes to make a marriage? Why this gut-less playing of mind-games that only hurts the one I love? And what sort of family is this you come from, that thinks nothing of making outlandish demands of others’ children, but have failed to make their daughter become a decent human being?

At the end of it all, I only want for this to turn back on you, all the anger and confusion and unhappiness you have caused.

I wish you every unshed tear and all the grief you have caused. Because I hope they cut you deep enough to open your heart to this ephemeral space, where fragile things like people and love must stay so strong, when all we have is each other to hold through all the storms.

Easy way out : The boomerang effect

Sometime back, I wrote about how it's actually quite easy to fulfill one's dreams. (Before I go on, I would have to say this is speaking only in a personal growth/ professional sense. I don't mean dreams like your crush returning your affections or time travel to a care-free childhood.)

From personal experience, an important motivator is being forced to do things I dislike. Stuck in a job that is "OK", something I can tolerate from 9 to 5 and go home, rinse and repeat for the week- I am far less likely to stay up all night trying to find a way to make my 'dream' happen. But when forced to do things I actively dislike, it is far easier to make myself move towards what I want even at the end of a ridiculously long day.

The potency of fear as a motivator is well established in metaphor and reality to any adult(looming deadlines, ticking clock, back against the wall). At least for me, annoyance and hating what I was doing turned out to be pretty strong motivators to move towards what I want.

So if working towards fulfilling your dreams sounds impossible, try running in the opposite direction. And maybe you will find that hidden something that makes you push harder when you think you can't, and boomerang back to where you want to be.

Recipes and stop signs

Especially among friends, it surprises me to find people that think of recipes as rules to follow. When cooking with friends, I am amused by those that level out the flour in the measuring cup or insist rajma cannot be complete without the addition of fresh coriander/ cilantro leaves. Some friends frequently receive links to recipes with comments like: "Oh, I am very creative, I always add my own tweaks to dishes", while others might reply: "How can I make that, I don't have any _ on hand". Between the two extremes, I have grown up watching my mother add sambar powder to pasta for fussy children and serve sandwiches as dinner to a group that felt a "meal" must include rice, chapattis could hardly count as lunch or dinner.

My favorite kitchen memory of my mother is this: Working 9-6 and trying to manage two small children, one of whom always wanted sambar and the other would eat nothing but rasam, my mother put her magic spoon to work. In her absence, we were given a 'spell'. No matter what she'd cooked, all we had to do was turn the spoon thrice. Dip it in deep and turn the spoon thrice to the right for sambar, and three times the other way to turn the sambar into rasam. Et voila! We each got what we wanted. Of course, the other requirement for the spell was two naive children who didn't know that curry powder sediments at the bottom of the vessel, or even really know the difference between sambar and rasam ;).

My own culinary adventures are similar. I like to think I can cook menus off several world cuisines, and given a spare pantry will whip up a kootu or a pasta or fajitas or a stir-fry. But none of them are 'authentic', and none of them are particularly 'creative', at least in my opinion. It's food, and it tastes good to those I cook it for. It fulfills our needs and keeps us happy, and that is enough for me.

Recipes are suggestions, not rules to live or die by. As are stop signs, as long as you look all ways ;). And so are 'principles'. There is always a different perspective, and principles/morals are guidelines on how to proceed, options one can choose to live by. If a moral cannot stand up to circumstantial logical scrutiny and open discussion, I don't think it is worth killing/ dying for, nor is it worth causing unhappiness over.

(P.S: Why does spell check find fajitas acceptable, but not rajma/sambar etc.? For those that want 'recipes' for any of the foods mentioned, I'm happy to oblige ;))

If self-defeating statements all spontaneously combusted, conversations would be so much more insightful. Or perhaps non-existent. Like this post should be, perhaps :)