A Chapter of My Life - Just For You.

[Another examination, another essay. This time, edited.]

Rubber Duckies and other such random items. 'Blah' and other such random words. Life and other such random processes. A black box of preserved memories. A notebook in front of me aptly titled, Chapters of My Life. I sat sifting through my memory box.
Letters, notes and bits of papers emerged. Each with its own history, its own story. Letter given to me, letters I never sent, notes passed in class, notes sent home. Scraps of my past all wrapped up in a box. A black box of preserved memories.
I sat documenting my memories. A random thought of the possibility of Alzheimer's and amnesia had induced me to do so. I never wanted to forget my memories and if my internal diary, memory, did fail me, I wanted a back up. A hard copy if you will.
As I finished off with the letters, I came across a pencil with bits of paper wrapped around it attached to an old fading photograph. I stared at the photograph as tears welled up in my eyes and two little girls smiled back at me with muddy faces and dark, gleaming eyes. Mahak and me at age four.
Mahak had been my best friend when I lived in Vasant Kunj, New Delhi. She was my upstairs neighbor, whose balcony I first learned to serenade at the tender age of seven. She lived in the apartment above ours on the first floor and I would climb atop our gate and sing songs to her and she would sing them back. She would always crack first and collapse on the floor of her balcony, laughing and I would fall off the gate and dissolve into fits of giggles.
The picture that was now blurring before my eyes had been taken by her father right after we had tried to eat wet mud because it looked like chocolate, and had been caught. She was squeezing me tight while I stood there, mud clenched in my fist, grinning from ear to ear. When I moved from Vasant Kunj to gurgaon, she gave me the picture as a going away gift with the pencil, which she had wrapped scraps of paper around that had our names as well as the phrase 'friends forever' all over it.
I sat back and thought of the time she rescued me from the puppies. I was and still am a passionate dog lover so when we discovered a litter of puppies in in the bushes by the park, I was naturally ecstatic. I sat down among them and started playing with them. When it was time to leave, I patted them all on the head and trotted off... only to be pulled back. Four of the seven puppies had caught hold of my frock and were pulling me back. Then fifth and a sixth joined in while the seventh sat and watched the show, his head cocked to one side. I did then what I did best at the age of five when faced with danger. I started crying.
My mother, for whom I was wailing passionately, was nowhere to be seen. So my superhero in 'power puff dungarees' decided, with all the goodness in her heart, to take matters into her own hands and rescue me, bless her. Mahak grabbed two puppies and shoved them in the bush and grabbed a third while yelling at me to run. I did just that, dragging three puppies behind me for a good ten-twelve feet. When they let go we ran home and collapsed in the garden outside my house as the stairs to her seemed like Everest to our tired bodies. I had stared at her with awe. Eight months older than me, she sat there, satisfied and calm, a picture of nonchalance as she chewed on a blade of grass. She had saved my life. She was my hero. I had to make it up to her so I offered her my brother. She loved him. He was two years younger and he smelt funny. yet, she loved him as I did.
I laughed at how insane we were. A life for a life. Simple. I smiled and thought of how in her wisdom and generosity she had accepted him with grace and then decided to share him with me knowing I loved him with all my heart.
The good old days. "The golden days, when life was great and pain was all a world away." Lionel Richie sang aptly at that precise moment and the music filled my room and my heart. "We we to school, we learned the rules. trusted in all they had to say. Then life took a turn we all had to learn that we can't go back again."
I missed her, I missed us. We had lost touch and as I put the picture away and wrote down its description and history, I felt nostalgic. Lionel Richie sang on "and my heart is breaking, Just For You, Just For You. And my arms are open, Just For You. Just For You.
I picked up a piece of paper and started to write a letter, "Just For You," I thought. "Just For You."

My Interpretation

William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud,
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

I discovered this little poem while researching on unconscious motives.
I find the idea fascinating.
To be the master of ones own fate and the captain of ones own soul is quite an idealistic statement to make. Everyone's thoughts and actions are ultimately dictated by another or more commonly, by society. One may be under the high flung misconception that he or she 'thinks for him/herself' but at the end of the day all of us have been brainwashed to conform with society. It may be by just simply abiding by the law or wearing the 'fashionable' clothes or by buying the latest Ipod release. At the end of the day it is society as a whole and as a collective that dictates one actions.
All this may be all right for those who do not enjoy making their own decisions or those who don't really wish to stand out but for the handful of us who do, even YOU at the end of the day have not a SINGLE original thought or idea. If you do, it has in someway been influenced by an external force.
I'm sorry, you were born into the wrong world. You're free to escape to your own.

Random Pain

11th of november 07:

I wish we were normal.
I wish that night had never happened.
I wish we didnt bruise so easily.
I wish we didn hold this kind of power over the ones we love
But it did happen and we are a mess.
bruised battered and brocken are we.

sheepishly we glance at eachother, aware of the gaping hole.
aware of the suffering pain yet pretending not to be.
the hurt and the agony in my eyes,
a reflection of that in his.

Forgiven n forgotten he n i said it was.
A lie each found easier to tell than to face.
What one had done to the other in a careless thought.
a thoughtless whisper, a whispering silence.

Each is the others emotional doom.
as the gap widens and lengthens,
the will to keep at it fades.
Does the love fade? No, it burns red hot.
but the sun of regret is out and the fire dwindles.

with no will and a dwindling fire emptyness is created.
More pain. More hurt. fueled desire to break.
All caused one random night.
in a thoughtless whisper, in a whispering silence.
Unplanned.
A simple prelude to the end.

A Fire Inside

[written on the 15th of December While out on a trip]

Sitting by the fire, an onslaught of memories. It flickers and sways like my train of thought. Pausing for a moment, steady, while I dwell over a preserved moment.
A fire that appeared yellow turns into a vivid rainbow. A mixture of yellow and orange, tapering at the top to clear, forming a mirage of images over the brown logs aytop of which appears blue bordering to indigo turning black at the heart where the coals burned an angry turbulent red.
Thought upon thought is thought with emotion. A happy smile, a shy feeling, a twist of hatred, a gripping fear, a resentful twitch, a content sigh of satisfaction.
I remember a whispered word, relive a silent moment. I stare into the heart of the fire with all the fire in my heart! Glorius moments of my past, my histoy.
Sitting by the fire, an onslaught of memories.

What a Wonderful World.

So my half yearlies just finished and I wrote this expository essay on "Stars." I quite like it so here goes..

What A Wonderful World
I sighed as I looked up at the stars. Louis Armstrong's voice in my head singing, 'What a Wonderful World.' I lay back as I watched the night sky twinkle and shine, happy content feelings swirling within my being. What a wonderful world indeed.
I hear the breeze, the silent stalker, ruffle the grass that I am lying upon and I shiver as it washes over me. A cricket chirps its serenade to the moon. A sweet scent of a flower I can't name hangs about me. What a wonderful world...
It had been a good day, a good week in fact. For once, there had been no complications, no politics, no dynamics to deal with. A well deserved break, I reasoned. I had a tough, turbulent week before this one and was glad to be out of it.
Things just seemed to go right, no explosions of extreme emotions, no noticeable mistakes, no insane thoughts. It was good to be alive, under the stars. What a wonderful world...
The greatest enigma comes to my mind, the ability of these twinkling specks of fire in the night sky, to make me feel better. The stars. Always shining, sometimes hidden by the clouds, yet always there. I aspire to be like them, to not let the clouds of my life dim my shine. Nor to let the sun of others make me feel any less significant. My train of thought slowly fades away as I spot Orion, the constellation. It washes over me. What a wonderful world...
I think of my day. The highlight of my day. He had smiled at me. He had smiled as he said my name, a twinkle in his eyes. I sighed once again, remembering that smile. It had felt like I was the only girl, standing there before him smiling back. I think of the twinkle, like a star in his eye. What a wonderful world.
A glimmer of hope resides within me, of what could be. A seed he planted with that smile. An overwhelming feeling takes control of my body, spreading the warmth to my toes. What a wonderful world.
I lose myself in fantasy. I flee reality and I walk on clouds. I contemplate the implications of that smile, the thoughts and feelings behind it. A number of them are conjured in my mind. I pick the one I like best and build a fairytale around it, all the while gazing at the stars. What a wonderful world.
I push away the ghosts of my past letting only the angels of the present play about my mind. Snippets of reality play hide and seek in my imagination as my soul soars above the world riding on my own star, with him by my side. The possibilities of adventure are numerous as I look ahead to a bright twinkling future. With him by my side, what isn't possible? I am lost in the intricate web of my fantasy, woven with stars, far from reality. What a wonderful world.
'Hoot!' I am brought back to the real world as an owl prepares to hunt for the night. A flash streaks across the sky and I see a shooting star. I wish to freeze this moment, preserve this memory, forever. I wish upon a star. What a wonderful world.

Pointless.

"False face must hide what the false heart doth know."
-Macbeth
Shakespeare

Translation: A treacherous heart must be hidden by a deceptive face.

How many times have you done that in your life? How many times have you tried to hide things, maybe not treacherous things, but things none the less, by pretending its all okay. Like nothing matters. Like it doesn't matter. Like the thoughts aren't yours.
How many times have you hurt someone by just not showing your heart, by showing a deceptive face? Pretending like you don't care. Seeming to feel that way.
How many times have you been someone your not.
Why cant you just be. What do you have to prove? And to whom? Are you ashamed of being yourself.
After all, your the only one who has to live with you.
Not being you... but someone else...
Its just pointless.
absolutely pointless.

-Not the kind of thoughts you need running through your head before an English Litereature Exam.

The Truth About Forever.

"We start slow, the way we always did, because the run, and the game, could go on for awhile. Maybe even forever.
That was the thing. You just never knew. Forever was so many different things. It was always changing, it was what everything was really about. It was twenty minutes, or a hundred years, or just this instant, or any instant I wished would last and last. There was only one truth about forever that really mattered, and that was this: it was happening. right then, and every moment afterwards. Look, there. Now. Now. Now. "
-The Truth About Forever
Sarah Dessen


Forever is a concept only you can define. My forever, is still undefined. At least for another moment, another year, another month, another day. Forever.