The Candy Man

A penny I earned, and the penny I saved,

For every grade I scored, for every promise I made

The candy man would come, at the clock of five

I saw the kids circle him, like bees on a hive

He came with a box full, which rolled around

The children with their riches, went round and round

The reds and oranges, colors of the rainbow

The wind carried music, when the whistle he would blow

I ran to the window side, just to catch a glimpse

He was the answer to all my fancies, and all my whims

The breeze smelt fresh, with the fragrance of honey

I wanted to buy the best sweets with all my money

I was the patient kid and I was Santa’s favorite child

Countless nights without the toys, I never sighed

A penny was all I wanted, to put in my piggy bank

To have that choicest candy about which Billy would yank

I would shake the pink animal, to hear the coins sing

Every time I put in a penny and shook, it would ring

Days passed into weeks, months started to come by

I kept running to the window pane, the candy man I’d eye

I believed in my dream, I believed it so much

To me it was a life, a life I could feel and touch

For I deserved the sugar drops, I was the good girl

The candy man was my pied piper, the candy my world

The day came, I no longer heard the coins ring

And upon breaking the pink animal, a joy it would bring

I ran to the window, this time a little faster

From the yearning little girl, I was now the master

Dawn broke into dusk but I didn’t hear the whistle blow

What took him so long, I did not know

Days also passed by, the wait was now longer

I wanted to cry out loud and stop being the good daughter

I wished to smell the fragrance, wished for the red one

All I did was watch the stars, and then rising of the sun

I assured myself that he was coming, he was just running late

And with hope I sit by the window, and patiently I wait

You...

For the mouth that speaks, an ear to hear

For the eyes that see, a vision so clear

For the hands that seek, a hand to hold

For the words that lie, the truth being told

For the mind that thinks, thoughts making sense

For the dreams unclear, the magic lens

For the love that’s written, a love true felt

For the words furnished, a heart that melts

For the forever that’s happy, a new beginning

For the life that’s started, the perfect ending

For the myriads that exist, a myriad to follow

For the questions so broad, a solution as narrow

For the music that plays, lyrics arranged well

For every heaven to appreciate, a tamed hell

For the cold winter nights, warm memories few

For the not so perfect me, the perfect you

18-03-2008

Flashback to a baby just born and I see her crying. The light that she witnesses for the first time pierces through her eyes and she looks for something familiar, someone to hold her like her own. My mom did I presume, because that’s the touch I would recognize anywhere and it gave me a meaning, my existence.

A couple of months down the line there is always a struggle to say the first words, to have the first walk and to smile in the company of the right one’s. I must have done that too, though I started talking so late that my parents feared I was dumb. I was the laughing stock of the house, the kid who never speaks, so my mom says. It was my grandfather who used to say that she will speak making sense and sing beautifully and that was the second most popular joke. Call it his foresight because like all normal children I did speak and like the gifted one’s I sang and I started to associate to things that sounded similar to me.

I was given a name amongst a lot of choices (and I am glad my grandfather picked this one because it was the best among them) and my identity was given a push. Like perhaps a dog may not understand the relevance of Tomy until conditioned into believing it’s his name and he comes running to you happily knowing that he is being called. I was conditioned too and my name gave my existence the exclusivity, that’s what I believe. My nickname made me happier because the sound of it made me feel pampered.

Schooling was an attempt to stand out, academically or otherwise, because my parents in the audience would gleam with happiness saying “There she is”, looking at me on the stage. I was recognized as the good singer and a good orator in school, until a time, it changed after a while. I was also the rebel in school, the naughtiest kid and then the loser on the first bench with no friends. I lived it all to look for the one world that truly reflected me and I found one. I also learnt a lot and it changed the “me” that I was, like the same learned friend puts it “learning is the fastest way to earn self respect”, I did quite a lot of that earning and learnt more about me.

And I am still learning. I learnt something valuable yesterday, that perhaps I am not some of the things that I firmly believed (or voiced) I was. I picked my friends (you can say vice versa too), I was given a family (a wonderful one at that), I was given an environment and I related to the things that got me closer to me. Why then was I choosing something that made me the person I fear being, the one who would compromise on being herself and jeopardize and distort the world that is hers’. One does do that, that’s when it is termed special in my case and such moments last for a special day or perhaps two. My attempt to have someone in my world made me almost distort it. I have done that before and I was too scared to realize it back then. I learnt it after getting “the kick”, but this time I was made to realize by the one friend who played his part perfectly. That was a moment that enlightened me in many ways.

When you talk of individuality, you look for things that define you. It may be your family, your friends, the one you love, to a certain extent, but it is primarily the person they accept you as. You have a twisted world of your own and the people you choose or get are the people of YOUR world, accepting you in your crooked ways. Why then do we accommodate things in our world (or people) so they fit? They can’t make your world any more special for the mere reason that they don’t accept you for the person you are. All my friends are different, I mean they aren’t alike. They represent the varied facets of my world and reflect that for me. I guess that’s why I look for immense space from them and maintain the bond over the years because I want to reflect the multi dimensions from time to time, not always. But over a few days (call it staying alone blues) I saw myself constantly being in touch with one facet of my world, reflecting on it and despite the much required break continuing to do so to the brink of accommodating it. Why? I don’t know. But I am glad I was made to look into other things that would define me, that exist as synonyms in my life. I would always be in touch with that facet as it reflects the “me” that I want to be understood as, but then I have more to me so I should look at the other facets as well.

The reason for this post is perhaps hard to understand because it is something personal but I am adding this last paragraph to put the many above in concise. When you make friends, be with your family or rebel, your reason for doing so is that you value your existence. The things around you mirror you and you like it that way, you end your life when you realize you have accommodated things to such a degree that the mirror image isn’t yours’. If everything boils down to you then why compromise. A friend in “love” with a guy I know makes innumerable efforts to fit into his world (and make him fit into hers), why? If he is the man of your world he will reflect you. I know mine does and I am happy that the things that exist in my world with the people, reflect me. The day it stops to happen my world will lose its meaning.

Preaching is anyone's business....

The other day I was chatting with a friend on Gtalk, she just had a break up with her boyfriend of three years. I knew I wanted to help but I did not know how, so all I furnished were well constructed grammatically correct feel good sentences, and I was an angel in disguise that day. The reason why this so called help, in my words, invites sarcasm is because anyone can preach, be on the other side and furnish a “things you should do list”, and no matter how much mess you are in yourself, furnish the advice to the needy(?) one. I often get from my friends that “you should be a consultant”, well to the learned one in my life who said that consultant is a badly abused word, I agree with you my friend

Funny being an MBA I have an aversion for all books that preach, 7 effective habits, how to be a good manager, blah and blah and some more blah adorning the best sellers list. No offense to all those who have truly felt that these books have enriched their lives. Maybe you needed to hear the obvious at that time, for your belief faltered. All of us do at one point in time or the other, wanting to hear the obvious, but what is it that makes these books sell and not our friends who state the obvious all the time…”dude you suck!” , “I love you so much”, “this class is so boring”, “get a life!”…get a life…this sentence is the best consultant’s advice to everyone wanting to find answers from everyone but themselves.

It appalls me to see people worshiping other people. You can respect other people but not worship them. At the risk of inviting some pissed off comments on my blog (I know some people personally who would hurl the abuses) how can people worship Puttaparti Sai Baba (I don’t know if I am getting the name right) or all the ammas and babas in town who look at you smiling from a torn down sticker in a bus so crowded that makes you feel “God why can’t I get a chauffeur driven car?”. Just because they show you magic tricks or say “Aum” in a meditative manner and tell you to lead a virtues life? Well hello!!!??...worship all the magicians, the yoga instructor and read the religious books for the best preachings till date. I guess the thought of having our prayers answered the simpler way will even make us worship an ant! Hold religious gatherings, spend millions and be virtuoso by mind and not in deeds.

Does it take a super human to realize that preaching is anyone’s business? Each of us preach the things we hear from the other person and we believe because we agree. My friend did believe she deserved a better guy, the ardent follower of Amma in town believes that he should lead a good life and yes sound business communication skills makes you a good manager. The preacher, the one taking the supposed higher road, wants to believe the things he rendered through the pious incantation. “Everyone deserves to be truly loved and will find love in time”, I wanted to believe that when I preached that. I want to hear all that is obvious sometimes because sometimes stating it makes all the difference. Lines like “You are the best”, “I am so glad you are here” make all the difference and they don’t invite a prayer in their honor, just my smile. It doesn’t make them a consultant or another amma, just human…and human we shall be. So all you ardent followers of Stephen Covey and Baba Kishorilal....Please don't get offended, I was only exercising my right to preach and in turn believe.

Life....is your movie

The first rays of the sun falling on my face, waking me up from the prolonged welcome state of unconsciousness, and I go about the day. With a song in my ears I walk towards the station to get on the crowded train, reach my destination only to work my ass off on things that probably don’t even matter. I stand at the centre of the crowd cracking mindless jokes and I hear the laughter that makes my day. I fight with someone who matters and cry over it, but a hug makes the whole difference, an insipid sorry perhaps and we are back to playing the role of friends. I have an exam and I cheat and score better than someone who studied and boast about it, despite being socially unacceptable at that time. I hear another friend yanking about her boyfriend and how wonderful he is and I fly into the world of imagination where I rule. Running towards the love of my life in a great outfit among the clouds and falling into his arms. With probably rage against the machine or Judas priest in my ears for the evening, I end the day thinking the numerous stunts that I will have to display to get home. Life…is my movie.

Ever wondered how your monotonous routine of getting up and then lying down again sounds like a great plan, a great direction. Everything centers on you, it is always your family, your friends, your work and your love. In other words you are the star, the undeclared hero of the amazing twisty plot etched out to be a masterpiece. It has the right amount of action and drama and corny sense of romance that will give Karan Johar a run for his money (take Yash Chopra if you want to make it sound classier). The different realms of world that you choose, add the spice. Music, movies and the internet, take your mind through an imaginative journey with background songs without dancers thrown in (you may dance and you choose to be the best at it too). Walking down the road with a song to hear you go into trance, thinking that the characters walking on the road around, who you don’t know, are so insignificant, if it weren’t for your eyes. Life is your movie.

Despite this exclusive role of a lifetime, why do we wish to play different roles? Why do we say “God, Why me?” why not you and if not, then who? Who else can play the hero as good as you do? You fit the role to the tee. You are in good hands after all; you can trust the director here. The people that are thrown in our lives, as whatever, have a role to play too and we get to decide their significance in the plot, or so He might like us to believe. There are some relationships that we make that have a defined scope, a special appearance. They make you feel good (or bad) and solve their purpose. Prolonging them makes the movie boring. There are some supporting characters that can be applauded with an academy, they are just absolutely brilliant! And there is always the hero or the heroine for you, with a supposed “this is the beginning” tagline.

Mould away into a fine actor, a fine tuner, who understands the gravity of his role. Be the excusive star and sometimes the Aamir Khan or Taboo, and play between the frivolous actor and the dramatic one. If it’s a movie, it has its fare share of action, drama and romance. You may never know what part of it may win you the accolades. Trust him and trust yourself, if you have chosen the script that is being directed by the ultimate director, it is bound to be a hit!