Late night realizations

Thursday 18 April 2013 at 11:34pm Sometimes you just need to accept certain lessons that life teaches you, even though your innerself dont want you to. Because you cant convince life. You can only convince yourself about life. My life is a good teacher. A very hard working and generous one. Its never stops teaching me neither its tired of testing on me. But what I have learned out of it is so heartbreaking for me.... 1. Noone can make you happy unless you decide to be. 2. Noone will ever understand you if you tell them that you are emotional to someone or something. People can never understand someone else's emotion. 3. You have a sister ? You have a brother ? They are not your true friends. They can never be friends with you. If they are not behaving like your dad mom....you are lucky. 4. Noone will support you in your dream.... You are lucky if your boy friend does. 5. You will have 100 friends ... Bt when, what you want is just to talk to someone and cry, noone will show up. If someone does, they wil start giving you lectures. 6. You have a conscience or inner voice which is very strong and thts the only Peron or thing that will stay with you till end. But....sometimes even he/she wont take your side. Shared with Memoires for Android http://market.android.com/details?id=net.nakvic.dromoris http://sites.google.com/site/drodiary/

Accompany you forever

If you are walking; will hold your hand and walk with you...
If you are thirsty; will get you a glass of water...
If you are sick; would take care of yours...
If you are hungry; will cook food for you...
If you are happy; will join you...
If you are sad; will make you smile...
If you are angry; will kiss you on forehead to make you calm...
If you hate me; will love you more...

If you die; will come with you in heaven...

Will accompany you forever my love my life....

I love you and will always love you....

the last gulmohar tree: Papa's white canvas

the last gulmohar tree: Papa's white canvas: Papa was an artist. I wont call him a painter but he was an artist. And he was like anyother artist who rarely cuts his hair, comes out...

Papa's white canvas



Papa was an artist. I wont call him a painter but he was an artist. And he was like anyother artist who rarely cuts his hair, comes out of his room and very rarely talks to anyone....but that didnt matter to me. I was always proud of him. And I loved those colors he put in his canvas. He always had a plain white canvas in his room...before he makes use of one, he makes sure that another will take that place. And that plain white canvas was treated as the most valuable thing in that room. I never understand why. I never asked either.

I thought I would be just like him when I grow up and I will draw my dreams, I will give colors to my dreams, and I will give them wings. And my son would be so proud of me.... Never matter.Today neither I have a dream nor a son.

But there is still one white canvas in my room. And it reminds me of an unfinished art, an upstarted work, a help seeking hand, a call from life....which tells me that are miles to go. I dont know what the white canvas meant for papa. Neither do I know what it means to you...but its true, u too have a plain white canvas with you. Draw your dreams, give them colors...give them wings
 

Sometimes people doesn't stay in your life..but the things they have given does. Those memories does. And the changes that they have brought in you also does. Every non human part of a relationship lasts for long, except the relationship itself. And all this non human parts add to your definition. Definition changes, people changes, relationships changes....things stay !!!

I remember reading that long love letters in wrinkled torn old notebook which my granny kept like her most expensive ornament. And it made me envisage a turkey prince who loved my granny and who fought for her. And I wondered whether the fighter turkey prince looked like my grandpa ? I never asked granny anything more about the prince. Neither did she told me intentionally but he was there in all her bed time stories. And I used to fall asleep dreaming my granny and prince riding on a horse.

And I grew up with her stories, with her letters and with a deep faith in the same love which was imprinted on that notebook papers. when I met my first love, I was so keen to write letters for him as I knew the intensity of writing down your feelings on paper. But my prince never had a chance to read a love letter, because whenever I feel like writing it, I type it down and send a text msg. And reading my messages, gave him the same feeling I used to get whenever I read my granny’s notebook. Well I think that’s how it should be, as feelings cannot change with respect to change in the way you express it. Granny belonged to an age of papers and I belong to an age of smart phones. And I can’t imagine how my children would express their feeling of love. And if I say my granny’s bed time stories to my children they will never be able to understand it. So I just read them an online bedtime story, till they fall to deep sleep. But I still wish, if there is a turkey price, let my child have him, whom neither my granny nor I could ever meet.

When things go wrong, and boss behaves like neighbor’s dog, I think of giving a shit and following my dream
Then my mind starts this  deadening process of recalling what was my dream
Well I had some dream when I was young,
I had a dream when I was a teenager…
Well am no more a teenager but that doesn’t mean that I can’t dream
Now it’s not the dream thing that am concerned about…it’s my age which is disproportionate to my total body weight and salary
Well, that’s ok because at least I have one number with me that increases every year
But it’s not always ok, when a cute guy at office asks you, your work exp, and u very well know that his intension is to calculate your age
And it’s not ok when you see your juniors at work place and they show unneeded respect
And it’s not at all ok when your niece calls u ‘Aunty’ in public even after telling her 100 times not to
Hell to my age…I don’t care about it as far as my dad calls me baby and my boy friend calls me babes
Now everything turned to boy friend
And I started searching answers for how ? why ? when ? and till when ?
And stopped immediately as I felt the symptoms of a mild attack
And now it seems much easier to think how to handle my boss.
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