Missing, In Action

17 Aug

In this one month of my being missing but certainly not being out of action, there have been countless times when I’ve wanted to make a run for the laptop in order to write and document everything I wanted to write. I realize that most of my posts have beginnings with this theme, historically. However, apart from the fact that my physical proximity to the laptop wasn’t always assured during these moments of wanting to write, the urgency to come here and write got trumped by the conflict of witnessing the experience in its entirety versus skipping along to document whatever I was witnessing. Think of it as trying to capture moments on your camera in the need to hold on to them forever without actually having experienced the moment in its entirety at all because you were too busy thinking about how to make it look, feel and documented. Happens a lot, doesn’t it? You emerge with what you think/believe and perhaps are amazing moments captured, except looking at that picture seldom elicits the response it would have had it been experienced untouched. Call me old-fashioned, but I do believe in that philosophy. And that’s exactly where we’re not headed because there’s such an urgency to capture everything in the attempt of keeping it forever that you forget to live in the moment. Ironic are our advanced ways of keeping things permanent. Don’t we know that even memories aren’t permanent?

I digressed. But I needed to make that point because as opposed to coming here and writing about every single event at the gain of higher stats, followers and readers, sometimes it makes better sense to take a seat back and harness the actual ability to look back, recollect and be able to weave your words from those concretised memories/experiences. It’s clear that this blog doesn’t follow a primary tenet of blogging – that of being regular in order to gather your reader base and so on. I’m presuming there are an infinite number of blogs out there and that we all really do not actually have the interest nor inclination to peruse through the masses – we’ve just run out of time and/or would rather spend our time attending to the added activities in our daily life that we believe makes it more promising to live, I suppose. Unless you’ve got a kickass blog that’s magnetized the world; which this is clearly not. So we’re safe here. I don’t feel weighed down by the burden of keeping up as such.

Talking about time, it has been of the essence off late because there’s wedding work I’m thinking about doing but haven’t actually gotten down to doing because my thoughts of just how much there is to do bog me down and I try finding respites as much as I can. Escapist me. Between fast fading mental checklists that haven’t even made it on an excel sheet or Evernote, there was something else that took over my life the past few weeks – five seasons of Game of Thrones. Yes. Don’t even bother guessing which took precedence over the other and waste your energy, will you?

Never having been a fan of history, forget shows of this kind, a friend brought it my way and asked me to have a watch (she had only S1) just so we could engage in a dialogue about the show and its similarities to our society today. Despite having attempted a watch much earlier on and failing miserably to move past minute 2.5, I decided to give it a try because I clearly had nothing else to do or to spend my time on. Weddings can take a backseat, apparently. And wedding plans did so take a backseat as I gobbled up one slow episode after another. Needless to say, I hated some, loved some, loathed some, wished for some to be tortured, hoped for the safety of some and of course, fell hopelessly in love with only Jon Snow. Thank you, dear television show people, that was a fine way to reward the world that loved Jon Snow ever so much.

So GoT took me by the collar and made me sit by the laptop till I finally emerged to conquer all the backlogs I had left. I’m not sure what about it made the world go ga-ga over it, unless of course it was Jon Snow, in which case, I’d agree and join the ga-ga bandwagon happily. That apart, yes, someone did say how our society today and the one in GoT is similar. I’d like to agree. Of course we pretend to be more civilized and responsible and all that jazz, but really, who are we kidding? It’s a nice watch, this one. Its episodes are about an hour long each, with ten episodes a season. So do dedicate 50 hours of your precious life if you must and perhaps you may emerge a fan too. Of course you can do other things like make arrangements for your wedding, in case you are getting married. No one will judge you for choosing the latter, I’m certain.



Somewhere between seasons 4 and 5, because I now measure units of time by my GoT watching activity, I went on that much needed, and my very first, South Indian road trip. It was more marvelous and the pictures half capture the real depth of the blue in the sky and the actual fluffiness of those clouds. And the luscious green and the blackness of the tar. And no, I’m not talking about colour enhancers.

It’s good to take off. I believed it was the stuff existential and annoying Facebook quotes were made up of, except that when the time comes, take off you must. Wind in the hair and all.


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People always ask the cliched “Are you a mountain or sea person?” question, guilty as charged here as well. Of course some people have a ready answer. Me? Sometimes I think I was born to be confused because of course there are no ready answers. There is just beauty and more beauty and it’s all about experiencing the magic of it all. Nature is tangible magic, I believe, therefore sponging up my dose of magic as and when I can is something I’m always on to. Imagine a hound on a trail, if you must. Except, let’s substitute violence and gore with calmness and peace.


It’s really that simple. The promise of the luxury of time, peace, happiness and mojitos on a hot, monsoon afternoon… I think it’s a darn good bargain. Until you wake up from your reverie and see those fast-fading checklists come back to light because you realize that a wedding, one’s own wedding, needs to be attended to.


The Big, Fat, Indian Shaadi. It’s nearing though it still hasn’t struck the shores of my consciousness yet. Complete with real-life drama, entertainment, a gazillion people, conflicts, rona-dhona, reminisces, freaking out sessions, navel-gazing moments, forceful growing up situations, happy and dreadful shopping sprees, over enthusiasm which seldom involves the couple and so on, it’s hard to not be a part of the crazy bandwagon. Before you know it, you’re on it and you’re moving along, mostly clueless about where you’re heading.

So yes, Indian weddings, they are a completely different ball game together. Even for those who think they’ve got it all covered.

All the best to those mental checklists I still haven’t penned down out of the fear that they will never end.



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