Is there a real slim shady?

A few days back I was talking to a friend and telling her how I miss writing. How I think I have had a million ideas but not the will to write. I have been writing a lot of stories and have become a content writer by profession though, so that's some solace. But I wanted to get back to filling this canvas of my personal space.

And then I saw it! The reason that triggered this blog. I saw another blog that had lifted all the content off my blog (I counted five posts which were mine) I appreciate the fact that this person at least had the sense to edit the parts that made no sense to her (since all my blogs are personal and you can't possibly feel exactly what I feel) but I felt invaded.. Cheated and not honored. The only happy thought I got was the joy of reading my own blog, I wrote well :)
There is a thin line between plagiarism and inspiration. I am yet to decipher it as I have been hearing the music directors since the 90's say it and not explain the difference. When I find out the music of barfi is lifted...it hurts. When I find out RD Burman copied music...it hurts. When I find out a recent idea of marketing by a channel I worked with, and the people who I admired for their creativity, copied it from an airline ad..it hurts. Is there no original thought or idea left now? Is that why we are resorting to remakes in bollywood and find ourselves reminiscing the good old past?
I have always loved the 70s as an era. Revolution was coming. Ideas were flowing. People were thinking and were proud of being original. I see scores of people now wanting to desperately hold on to these...those who have the time to stop and smell the rain. Or trying to adapt anything that is new (Americans were getting married in an Indian way because they thought that's why marriages last here...what they didn't know is most of our people don't have the balls to admit that there's is a crappy marriage). I don't have a problem with trying something new and see if it works for me...but this?
I recently got married. Call it the blissful lenses but I think my marriage is different from so many. We have our own work and space, we both cook (and my husbands a better one), we talk about everything that is related to us, we have our personal stuff as well and don't yearn to learn everything about each other, we didn't want an elaborate wedding or a reception to show off and we can be aloof and jack asses to people and not care. For me, these are things that are mandatory in a marriage or a relationship..a given. But when I shared it with some of my married friends...it became a gift. My in laws and I are very different people, but its working for us because we respect each others individuality. And no its not because I'm lucky, its because we are honest. We are just...as original as we can be.
We all develop over a period of time. Taking a part of everything and everyone who comes along, and shape into someone. If one is really proud of who they are and what they feel..one will not resort to being a "copy cat" (something that I used in my past quite often, along with cheater cock). It is my appeal to this female and all the others who think they can't churn anything original...at least try and not be shameless!

Musing...

I have had my share of surprises and shared enthusiasm for my birthday. My family and friends understand the excitement associated with it in my mind. Over the past few weeks, I can’t stop thinking of one birthday though. It wasn’t an expensive surprise gift or a surprise party. Something that I had been craving for months or 12 o clock show up at the door. A crisp Sunday morning with the perfect breeze and the sunlight wrapping us in its warmth. Colourful dancing waves of kites adorn the blue backdrop like candy on a tray. We used to love watching the kites….back then. After the morning wishes and my mother's special present, it was time to go up to the terrace to watch the dance. My cousin and my father were preparing to join in the war of the kites while my brother was happy watching the meticulous nature of their work. As soon as I joined them my father took a bright orange kite and wrote “Happy Birthday” on 14th August on it. It accentuated my enthusiasm to the highest level as I saw that kite soar in the sky, fight it out and then land on someone’s terrace. Seeing my disappointment my dad told me that even though the kite lost a war, we saved ample “Manja” to begin another battle. And that put a smile on my face.

I don’t know why I keep on thinking about this day. The fact that I miss him is pretty obvious, I miss him all the time. But what I reminisce about this day the most is that bright orange kite and the enthusiasm with which my dad wrote the date and the message, like the day belonged to me. It made my day and it made a wonderful memory and all I wish right now is to fly another kite marking my day with him….