Minia's Mundane Musings

For a very long time I have held a rigid view about what is right and what is wrong. And never have I ever allowed myself to be deviated from what I thought was correct and incorrect. I am not saying that I always did the right thing, but yes even when I was doing the wrong thing I did know that i was wrong. No one had to hold up the metaphorical mirror and tell me that I was wrong. I knew it all on my own. So veering between being an absolute Gandhian and a naughty imp, I had more or less kept my moral compass due north. In fact I was quick to judge people on their actions, without trying to place myself in their shoes and walk a few miles, to see what the impediments were. I was always pretty  smug about knowing what was white and what was black. But as they say, its only when we experience something do we truly realize what it was to have stood in someone's shoes and made a decision which felt totally right at that time. Would you condemn a hungry urchin for stealing food?

Refuelling at the petrol pump makes me realise that I have traveled only 600kms in 15 days. Yet it seems that an entire lifetime has gone by. The seat next to me is empty. No one checks the zero for me. There is no discussion on the appropriate air pressure. The knobs of the music system stay untouched. The seat next to mine doesn't recline back. A hand doesn't snake out to caress my hair. I am given no instructions on how to drive. The speed breakers stay untested. There is no groaning at each bump. Utterly crazy to think that so many details got packed into a drive of just over 5kms. Utterly crazy that an entire lifetime is packed into days.......

It is wonderful to see how the cities have by and large adapted to the methodology of segregating garbage into three main components-  Wet, Dry & Recyclable. I think that long before this system was applied to waste disposal, human beings already were using such a system in their lives for others of their ilk. Thus, we have a system in which we have a mental categorization of exactly what purpose and to what extent we want to use another individual. So we have friends with whom to watch movies, and other friends to hang out with at drinking holes, and then others with whom we share book details. Also there are friends with whom we share silly stuff that no one else seems to understand at all. And here I am using the word friend in it's loosest form with a very very expanded bandwidth.  Add to this gamut the people whom we go to just to cry and unburden yourself on. ( you are lucky if you have one of these in your life!) and of course needless to say these aren&#

Don't love me, I don't deserve it. Don't think of me, I am not worth it. Don't sacrifice yourself at the altar of my misery. Don't let the flames of my loneliness scorch you. Don't touch me, I am toxic. Don't care for me, I am malignant. Don't approach me without a shield around your heart. Don't suffer on account of my abject selfishness. Don't let me into your life, I am a harbinger of sadness. Don't believe me, I lie...............

This is a movie which is sure to inspire a cult following. Much like the other one from Zoya Akhtar, Luck by Chance. I never did understand why that one didn't work. My fervent hope for this one is that the ayes be many and the nays be negligible. The script is ridiculously simple, when I look back  it's still more ridiculous that it gave such a high. But ah! The screenplay is utterly gorgeous. It's mind-blowing how one sits through 153 minutes without a thought for the time. The cinematography is superlative as well. Mumbai has been shot beautifully. Never have I revelled in the beauty of that city as I did today. Also the faces are craggy and the surroundings are glitzy. The contrast works so well. The Dharavi scenes are synthetic and sanitized, but nonetheless work wonders. Enough of the cinematic excellence that this movie is. Coming to the actors. What do I say about Ranveer that  hasnt already been said. In fact I recently came across a tweet by Ritesh Deshmukh sh

Ye dhaaga toh tutne wala hai. Aaj nahi toh kal tum isse todoge hi. Bas dhyaan rahe ki is dhaage ki koi taar sabut na reh jaye. Bahut hi pucca dhaaga hai ye, Saalon se tika hua hai, Samundron par se khicha hua hai, Pahadon pe lehraya hai, Isme ganthein bhi padi hui hain. Kai aur dhaagon ke reshe bhi lipti hui hain, Par jo assal ye dhaaga hai, woh saabut hi hai, Is liye meri jaan, sochke tassali se ye dhaaga todna. Kaise todoge? Ek hi baari mai saare taar kaatoge ya ek ek taar alag alag karke kaatoge? Ek hi baari mai tod doge toh shaayad saans hi ruk jaaye. Aur agar alag alag taar tutegi, toh saans bhi ruk ruk kar chalegi. Par jo bhi faisla karo meri jaan, tum is dhaage ka apna hissa jala dena. Bada dheet hai ye dhaaga, iski kisi taar se ulajh mat jaana, Iske kisi siree ko sehla mat dena, Iske kisi marod mai gum na ho jaana, Phir se kahin ye tumhe apne jaal mai na baand le. Tum iski raakh se peeth kar lena, Naya dhaaga koi buun lena, Ganthein bhi nayi baand lena,

People who are single and tend to eat alone, are faced with several non-essential things to consider. Firstly the booking itself for a fine dining place are never for single people and singles like me, just end up saying that I actually need a booking for two. And if I do land up without a reservation and it's the peak time, it's very unlikely that they will dedicate a table to me alone. So you have to keep loitering about, or then make sure that you arrive at the restaurant just as they are opening their doors or at a generally not so popular hour. So, if you do manage to get seated, then comes the bit about having to get the attention of the server. They almost always keep waiting for someone else to join the lone diner and one has to specially flag them down and explain that it's just the one for the meal, and the extra place setting should be removed. Once that is sorted, you have to traverse the labyrinthine made-for-two-couldnot-give-a-damn-for-the-lone-diner menu

There exists a thread between you and me. It's very strong and resilient. It has weathered misbehavior. It has tolerated selfishness. It has snagged in other places and yet continued to exist. It has knotted up and become a holy mess. Some threads are fraying with age. Ah! But none of this has detracted from its strength. It is much less flexible, but it's pull is strong. It's no longer smooth and silky, but it binds us tight. But a time shall come when you will finally snap this thread... How will you do it then my love? Shall it be a single vicious stroke that cuts the thread? Or will you saw through it strand by strand? What will be more agonizing? The wrench of you thrusting me away suddenly or the knowledge that you are separating us slowly but steadily? I don't know my love what shall be easier for me, but you be sure to do what's easier for you. I don't know my love how I will bear the loss when it comes, but you be sure that you cut thro

Have you wondered what the first ever fight between two humans must have been about? I am pretty certain that it must have been on account of food. What else could it have been about? There were no possessions that they had, there was no sense of family to speak of, there were no kingdoms and no issues over power or the remote control. So think about it! All they had to fight over was food. They felt hungry, so they went out and foraged and when their bellies were full they lay down and rested. That was all there was to life then (sounds like a perfect vacation). Straight and simple. So, what could have led to the first fight ever? Maybe one man grabbed some food from another and the other objected and then there were fisticuffs. Maybe one was stronger than the other and decided that the effort required to intimidate and bully a weaker member of his race was lesser than hunting for food on his own. Selfishness is a trait, that doesn't need to be learned, it rears it's head

Darr hi nahi khatam hota. Kabhi is baat se Darr lagta hai ki tum dur chale jaoge. Kabhi is baat se Darr lagta hai ki tum paas aa rahe ho. Kabhi apni tanhaiyon se Darr jaati hoon. Kabhi tumhara haath pakad kar Darr jaati hoon Darr hi nahi khatam hota. Kabhi ye sochke Darr lagta hai ki tum meri zindagi ho. Kabhi ye sochke Darr lagta hai ki mai tumhari nahi hoon. Kabhi ye baat darrati hai ki tum Humsafar ho Kabhi ye baat darrati hai ki tumse kadam nahi mil raha Darr hi nahi khatam hota. Kabhi khushi se Darr jaati hoon Kabhi gam se Darr jaati hoon Kabhi ahsaas ke hone se Darr jaati hoon Kabhi is baat se ki kuchh mehsus nahi ho Raha Darr hi nahi khatam hota

Mud houses and Mehndi You said you loved me to the moon and back. You built me a mud house so beautiful, that it rivaled the Taj. You decorated it with crimson streaks of Sindoor and made it a home. You planted Mehndi bushes all around it and gave me hope. I said I loved you to the moon and back. I kicked at the mud house, untill it lay in ruins and not even your love could save it. I rubbed away at the crimson streaks of Sindoor, untill all that remained were brown stains and not even your faith in me could rescue it. I tore at the Mehndi bushes, untill the life went out of them, and they drooped listless and brokenhearted and not even your care could nourish them. I often passed those ruins of the mud house. And saw with apathy, the destruction I had wrought. A tear would fall occasionally and  startle me with how wet it felt on my cheek. I, quite shamelessly would recollect the mud house in all its glory, and walk on. A twinge of guilt would prick me and make me wonder

Tukdon ka hissab samjhao toh Zara. Woh hissa jo tumhare nazdeek Aakar baithna chahta hai, usse tum dur rakhte ho. Par poori main pasand hoon. Woh jo hissa khule kapdon se bahar jhankta hai, usse tum dhakna chahte ho. Par poori main pasand hoon. Woh jo hissa ulat palat baatein karta hai, usse tum bolne nahi dete. Par poori main pasand hoon. Woh jo hissa jhagdalu hai, usse tum fatkar dete ho. Par poori main pasand hoon. Woh jo hissa tumhe jakad ke rakhna chahta hai, usse tumhe azaadi chahiye. Par poori main pasand hoon. Woh jo hissa tumhare liye tadapta, usse tum rone bhi nahi dete. Par poori main pasand hoon. Woh jo hissa tumhare junoon main khoya rehta hai, usse tum Duniyadari sikha dete ho. Par poori main pasand hoon. Woh jo hissa tumse vaade maangta hai, usse tum behla dete ho. Par poori main pasand hoon. Tumhara ganit lajawab hai! Tukde mere napasand hai, par poori main pasand hoon. Ye hissab samjhao toh Zara.

Soul Mates ???? This term has haunted me for the better part of my life. Haunted because I have vacillated back and forth between believing in it unreservedly and scoffing at it by turns. I never understood the true meaning of that word until I reconnected with mine. I never quite realised that I did have a soulmate till this person reappeared in my life. At times momentous events happen to you whilst you are sitting in the midst of them and you never appreciate what you had till you didn't have it. When I first knew this person I was too naive to know exactly what drew me to this person or why I was so comfortable sharing everything. It just never occurred to me that this would be irreplaceable and unforgettable. No one barring none, has even come close to being this amazing blend of a rock and velvet; this glorious mix of sweet and sour with spice thrown in. A soulmate is a friend and a foe all rolled into one. A delightful bundle of praise and pride and castigation. A safe

I sit facing the door. Contemplating it... And wondering is it good to be closeted, Or am I better off roaming unfettered... I can't remember, Remind me, Did you ever tell me to stay safe? Or did you say be brave and venture forth? Maybe you said go ahead and fall, I shall always catch you, Or did you say, go ahead fall, I don't care? I can't remember, Remind me. I hear footsteps now, Outside the door, Is it you? Is this shuffling gait yours? Did your footsteps hesitate just then? I hold my breath.... But no, the footsteps have moved on, Was it you? Was it your step? Hesitant and guarded? Did you always walk like this? Or was your step more confident and sure? I can't remember, Remind me. Other footsteps walk right up to the door, They stop at the door, I hear knocks, Some firm, Some impatient, Some melodic, But none of those are you. Did you ever knock? Did you ever peek around the door? I can't remember, Remind me. My life isn