Spilling Dreams

Reading Time: 4 minutes

[A special occasion calls for special ways of celebrations. But isn’t the new year already 5 days ‘old’? So, you might be wondering what the special occasion today is. Today, this post marks the 100th post on ‘At the Crossroads’ – A milestone that has taken over 4 years for completion. It has been a very slow but steady progress (courtesy my creator who often made up excuses like writer’s block or pretended to be too busy in studies or work).  So, I decided to contact an awesome person (revealed at the end of this post) to do the honors for helping me reach this milestone. Don’t scroll down, sit back and enjoy reading this wonderful post.]

As soon as I stepped out of the car I knew these were going to be the best moments of my life. It was already night and after a ten-hour journey I was still bursting with excitement. I didn’t feel like going to my hotel to rest for the night, I was already picturing myself out on the beaches splashing water here and there all filmy style.

I wanted to run, to spread my arms wide and scream on the top of my lungs.

I felt filled with happiness to the brim and one more spoon of it would make me blast.

I just couldn’t stop smiling.

Consoling myself how I had a week to explore and carry on with my eagerly awaited expeditions, I went to my hotel room a bit disappointed. Once inside my room I kept the luggage on the floor and sprawled on the bed. A happy sigh escaped my lips.

“Finally” “Oh great. Now I am talking to myself”  I said. I indeed was. I sat straight up and did my own yay-dance. I was that happy. A childhood dream. GOA. I was finally here. I felt on top of the world. Like this was all I needed in life.

Among all the talking-to-self sessions I heard loud music blaring in my room through the windows. I hopped towards the window to look out for the source.

And as the brochures had promised I saw a full-fledged view of the beach. A beach with an awesome party going on.

The reasons I could tell it was awesome were : 1. It was a costume party and I had never been to a costume party before. Had only watched them on the television and day dreamed of going to one. 2. I just witnessed a cute guy going into the party.

Reasons enough to stop fussing over being tired and rush downstairs. I almost half ran to open my luggage. Going over all the clothes in view I finally found the dress I had been looking for.

“Perfect” I said to myself. I knew this wasn’t a chance I may get again and I had to take full advantage of it. Lay in my hands was the shortest white dress you could find.  I hastily dressed into it, searched for my hair curler, did the almost perfect job on my hair, put on every piece of makeup I could get my hands on and wore a cute little white cap with a red plus sign on it. With the perfect line of cleavage, blood-red piercing heels and a lush red lipstick to match, ‘The sexy nurse’ was ready.

Taking a last look into the mirror I rushed downstairs.

                                              ***

After what felt like a whole day of dancing, drinking, eating and dancing with random strangers I needed a break. I started walking towards the bar when suddenly I spotted ‘the cute guy’. I looked at him but finding him staring back at me, I blushed and continued walking. I sat at the first vacant spot I could find when ‘the cute guy’ came and stood next to me ordering the bartender to put up drinks for the both of us. ‘So, here to spend your new year?’ he asked. With that cutest smile that went all the way to his dimples it seemed almost impossible to pay attention to what he was saying. “Uhhmm” I said which seemed like the universal answer for whatever he might have asked and looking like a dumbass totally speechless by his presence I decided to look away. He suddenly grabbed my arm. My heart just skipped a beat. He lowered his head towards mine and my heart raced. My eyes dodged in every direction. His face was getting closer. I concentrated on slowing down my pounding heart as I was pretty sure he could hear it. And suddenly his warm lips touched mine.

                                               ***

“What are you doing?” shouted my mother. “Why is the pillow on your face?”

Pushing away the pillow off my face and realizing how pathetically I was kissing a pillow suddenly embarrassed me.

“Wow Tisha that was fast. Even for a dream. Pehli baar mile nahi ki kiss? Stop watching English movies so much” I cursed myself. Needless to say I was talking to myself again. But this conversation was just in my head. I smiled to myself.

And then reality hit me. Goa? Yeah right. 

Asking parents this is what you get:

If your Dad agrees we ll all go.

You can go with your cousins if you take your brother along.

You can travel with your friends if there is another girl in the group.

If you want to travel afar, marry. Go with your husband wherever you want to.

Every reply contains an if that directly means a NO for solo traveling. 

                                              ***

India has never been about solo traveling for girls. And the foreign women who come here to travel alone are purely upon personal risk.

In India if you manage to travel solo people will be more surprised at you surviving it and coming back home in one piece than anything else.

Maybe this will change someday, but I don’t see it anytime soon.

[The honors were done by Nia Charms, who has a multifaceted personality which shall be revealed to you when you go through her blog.  Sometimes, she makes you laugh so hard that you forget the sadness in your life, sometimes she makes you ponder how come such a young writer could write so maturely and at times, she just makes you relate to her life as your own.  Do stalk her blog, her Facebook page and her twitter account for your daily dose of craziness.]

The broken window

Reading Time: 2 minutes

It was that time of the day (or perhaps night) that made me indecisive as to should I witness the sunrise due in an hour or should I call it a day. If I decided to witness the sunrise, I would be doing so perhaps after a decade. The thought of breathing in the fresh air, listening to chirping of birds and witnessing the vast canvas of sky changing landscapes from red to orange to yellow, all seemed plausible reasons as to why I should relive that experience. However, if I didn’t call it a day that time, I would end up sleeping through this coming day. And in such moments of indecisiveness, I find amusement thinking that probably, most of the births in this world are a result of moments of indecision – the indecision of whether to use protection or not.

I wondered why I suffer from indecisiveness. Is it because no one ever taught me to back my instincts and my reasoning faculty to make a decision for myself? Or is it because someone always backed his instincts and reasoning faculty to make a decision for me? Shall I blame ‘no one’ or ‘someone’ or ‘everyone’? However, I couldn’t decide on whom to blame as another pertinent question popped up that how I could decide to put the blame on anyone while I suffer from indecision.

While the disillusionment about the decisions made in my life dawned upon my mind, so did the rays of sun dawned upon my face through that broken window signaling the start of a new day. A new day – yes, that’s how people like to call each day as they believe with each day, they could start afresh: a new beginning, hence, a new day. I couldn’t say how much I wish that this were true. Had we possessed the ability to clean our slate over a night’s sleep, it would have been really a wonderful day to begin with and a wonderful life to live. However, reality is that on each ‘new’ day, we live through it as a pain with the hope of a better ‘new’ day coming up next day, interact with our surroundings carrying the baggage of our experiences and notions formed in the previous days in life.

The lack of sleep and hence, the weariness, soon, started affecting my thoughts and every object in my surrounding started acquiring significance. The broken window seemed to signify the broken dreams and the rays of light filtering in through that broken window appeared to be comforting me as a glimmer of hope, trying to convey the message to look at the brighter side. I was enticed to look at the brighter side and tried to look beyond that broken window. And after a decade, I observed the magnificent Sun rise up on the horizon. The questions which were bothering me escaped my attention as I heard the birds chirp in a backdrop of a colorful canvas of loud colors. And suddenly I felt that I was now ready to live a new day.

Marxism and Narcissism

Reading Time: 1 minutes

Mr. Y : “Karl Marx has said that in order to make a slave work more, he should be treated in a manner to make him feel like an employee.”

Mr. X: “Mr X. has said that in order to make an employee work more, he should be treated in a manner to make him feel like a CEO.”

Mr. Y: “Who the hell is this Mr. X?”

Mr. X: “Mr. X is the CEO of this company, Bitch!”