Your body is a wonderland

Sometimes while running I feel like my body is a machine. My breathing is strong and perfectly rhythmic, the muscles in my legs are contracting and expanding, my chest is moving up and down, my hair is flying behind me, and my heart is like the powerful engine that is powering this performance machinery. I get visions of the type that they show you in car engine lubricant ads – the piston moving up and down, the liquid flowing throughout the engine, the powerful output that it produces. I feel my blood getting pumped throughout my body, my heart working like a powerful, efficient engine, all parts of the body in a state of heightened alertness and awareness, the whole body moving forward like a efficient car.

And when I finish running, I am completely spent and just about manage to crawl back home. At the end of my run, I put my hand on my heart and feel it thumping loud and clear. It is a very reassuring beat. It is not a frantic beating of the heart, but rather a rhythmic pumping of the heart – loud, strong and steady. And it feels good to hear that thumping (it feels like u can hear if u place your hand on your heart). In fact it reminds me of my bullet days and gives me that same kind of tranquillity as the steady powerful thumping of the bullet engine. Maybe that is why it sounds so good – the thumping – it somehow reminds us of the beating of our mother’s heart when we were in her womb.

I wish I had someone to share this with. I wish I could come home, take her hand and place it in my heart and feel the thumping of my heart through the feel of her hand on my chest. And she would feel the steady beating of my heart and feel the heat emanating from my body. And just for that moment we would be one, united by the steady thump-thump of my heart and her body would fold into mine irrespective of the sweat that I have worked up by that time. I sometimes wonder what it would be like to have sex at that moment. Would it be an out of the world mind-blowing experience because of the already heightened state that my body is in? Would the heat from my body make her hot and drive her crazy? Or would I be just too tired to perform?

Our body is truly the best gift that God has given us, and it is our sacred duty to use it in every possible way. Explore the horizons of your body. Don’t waste your body.

desperado!

u know, these periods of hiatus are very difficult for me to cope with. I am not asking you to change your behaviour in any way, I'm just sharing...

Why is it so difficult? Why do i wait for ur mails so impatiently? I am not like this with most people. Then why with you?

I think its because I see hope. I am like a drowning man desperately clutching on any straws I find. It is really terrible. I don't like being so desperate. But I am and I am not going to deny my nature. I'm reading a really nice book called pay it forward in which the heroine (a very outdated and desi term, I know, but I kinda like it!) tells the man to just sleep in the same bed with her even if he doesn't want to have sex cos she hates sleeping alone. That's pretty much how I'm feeling right now.

I'm incapable of maknig any woman friends right now because I just keep pushing them for more intimacy and that obviously drives them away. And I am like a machine. I don't even hesitate or change my behaviour or anything. I just start searching for another woman whom I try to befriend and again push for intimacy. Godamnit! I think I will just take up sanyas to escape from this whole mess.

Here’s the story

I love a good story. I like nothing more than to sink inside a new place, a new world, with new people whom I’ve never personally met, but can still relate to them.

Yes, I love a good story, be it in the written word or through a movie. I think a story is also the best way to teach the world, to influence the world. Somehow a story conveys instantly its moral/learning to the reader instantly which if u tried to convey through an essay would not only be a difficult read, but at best half understood.

Kahlil Gibran is one philosopher whom I love deeply because of the way he uses stories to convey his teachings, his message, and his world view. Sample some of his stories and make your own interpretations of his message. Share your interpretation with me.

War

One night a feast was held in the palace, and there came a man and prostrated himself before the prince, and all the feasters looked upon him; and they saw that one of his eyes was out and that the empty socket bled. And the prince inquired of him, "What has befallen you?" And the man replied, "O prince, I am by profession a thief, and this night, because there was no moon, I went to rob the money-changer's shop, and as I climbed in through the window I made a mistake and entered the weaver's shop, and in the dark I ran into the weaver's loom and my eye was plucked out. And now, O prince, I ask for justice upon the weaver."

Then the prince sent for the weaver and he came, and it was decreed that one of his eyes should be plucked out.

"O prince," said the weaver, "the decree is just. It is right that one of my eyes be taken. And yet, alas! both are necessary to me in order that I may see the two sides of the cloth that I weave. But I have a neighbour, a cobbler, who has also two eyes, and in his trade both eyes are not necessary."

Then the prince sent for the cobbler. And he came. And they took out one of the cobbler's two eyes.

And justice was satisfied.

The Fox

A fox looked at his shadow at sunrise and said, "I will have a camel for lunch today." And all morning he went about looking for camels. But at noon he saw his shadow again -- and he said, "A mouse will do."

The Two Cages

In my father's garden there are two cages. In one is a lion, which my father's slaves brought from the desert of Ninavah; in the other is a songless sparrow.

Every day at dawn the sparrow calls to the lion, "Good morrow to thee, brother prisoner."


Said a Blade of Grass

Said a blade of grass to an autumn leaf, "You make such a noise falling! You scatter all my winter dreams."

Said the leaf indignant, "Low-born and low-dwelling! Songless, peevish thing! You live not in the upper air and you cannot tell the sound of singing."

Then the autumn leaf lay down upon the earth and slept. And when spring came she waked again-and she was a blade of grass.

And when it was autumn and her winter sleep was upon her, and above her through all the air the leaves were falling, she muttered to herself, "O these autumn leaves! They make such noise! They scatter all my winter dreams."

The Full Moon

The full moon rose in glory upon the town, and all the dogs of that town began to bark at the moon.

Only one dog did not bark, and he said to them in a grave voice, "Awake not stillness from her sleep, nor bring you the moon to the earth with your barking."

Then all the dogs ceased barking, in awful silence. But the dog who had spoken to them continued barking for silence, the rest of the night.

It is so difficult to select just a few. I can just go on with his stories, but I guess if you like these, then just google for more of Kahlil Gibran. All his books are easily available online.

The story of us

You inspire me to write. Its funny, but I just need one person to get inspired to write.

I don’t know if u noticed, a lot of my previous blogs were also addressed to a single person. Even before I started writing blogs, my previous writings have always been inspired by a woman. The first time I wrote substantially was when I was in final year of college. This was like a 5 page long letter written to the woman I had fallen in love with and remained in love with for 2 years without saying a word of it to her. So u can imagine how bottled up I was feeling, and writing that letter really helped me to express all the feelings and hopes and disappointments and frustrations I had been keeping inside of me. This letter was triggered off by her revealing to me that she’d had a boyfriend all along, and yet she never told me about it even though we were almost best friends. That was a chaotic time for me which also led to a great learning stage. It pushed me out of being satisfied with who I was. It made me want to reinvent myself, made me want to change myself, and there was no better time for it to happen to me cos within months of that I was to join MDI – my MBA institute.

I entered MDI with a deep desire to change, to not continue to be who I was. I was appalled at my lack of assertiveness and I decided not to be so shy in the future. This was also the time when I started smoking. Even though my brother and my close friend had been smoking for ages, I had always felt myself to be above it. I always saw it as a weakness. But at that stage I wanted to rebel. Rebel against the nice guy I was. So smoking was one of the most visible ways to do it. I was still a nice guy, but I did not show it as much.

In MDI my writing skills got honed somewhat, but it was more of writing reports and project and so on. But nonetheless, by the end of MDI I had realised that if I want to, I can write better than the average Joe.

Now comes the second substantive piece of personal writing. This was again a 6-8 pages long letter I wrote at the end of MDI to another woman I had fallen in love with about a year ago. She did not have a boyfriend or anything, but she just did not see me as anything more than a friend. And we were truly best friends. I mean we loved each other like crazy, and would’ve done anything for the other person. But she just did not feel anything romantic or passionate about me. She continues to be my best friend is married to a guy from another community whom she fell in love with and had to really fight it out with her parents to get them to agree to her marriage. Well, coming back to the letter, well, this is a piece of writing I am not too proud. This was a mean, vindictive letter I wrote to her and after I kind of proposed to her for the third time and she turned me down and kind of backed away from the friendship. That was a really painful time. Every time I would see her, I would feel a whole mix of emotions. Love, pain, resentment, ego, longing, despair, so many emotions. And we both made eye contact with each other, but we didn’t talk. Finally after about a month of this silent treatment, I just sat down and wrote out all the emotions that were going on inside me, just vomited them out on paper. And I gave that letter to her without saying anything. And I was freed of those emotions. Its like I’ve written in another blog, writing down your emotions frees you of their hold on you.
She later told me that she read that letter at least a hundred times in the next 7 days, and she cried a lot, and at the end of it she burnt that letter and she also forgave me for it by burning that letter. She is undoubtedly the most generous woman I know. Or at least as far as I’m concerned, she loves me more than one would love family.

Post MDI, after I joined job, somewhere after six months of this I started maintaining a dairy and started writing in it after smoking ganja, which was quite a bit in those days. I also wrote in it whenever I felt frustrated, suffocated or just plain lonely (which was also quite a bit). This was still not serious writing, but I did really love what I wrote, especially post ganja. And I found that writing gave me a great clarity of thought. I would just start writing within a page or two of writing I would get some insights on what I needed to do in life then, in the future. It was almost like I was communicating with my sub-conscious. I just let my mind wander and tried my level best to capture all thoughts coming in it. I think those pages were really good writing, particularly cos the handwriting adds so much more character to the writing. Then the next spurt I got to writing was when I met M.

M was my brother’s friend and I never really found her appealing or anything, even though she’s good looking like a model. I always found her model like looks and f.r.i.e.n.d.s. like behaviour a bit superficial, and hence never found her attractive. But all that changed when she came to live with us for her summer holidays. Needless to say, I fell head over heels in love with her within 2-3 weeks. Now of course this one was also slated to be a case of unrequited love. She had a boyfriend of 4 years, and even if she hadn’t, I don’t think she felt romantic love for me, even though she did love and respect me a lot. Well, she was studying to be a psychologist, and we just hit it off with our thoughts and contemplation about spiritual development, purpose of life, higher goals, etc etc. She was the first person to read my writing and give me feedback on it, and she still does. What was most amazing about that relationship was how she understood me and what I was writing, and how she could respond with views and perspectives which made me look at what I’d written in a completely new light. But most of all, just the fact that she wanted to read what I’d written, and that it moved her so much made me feel real good. That was another creative period when I started writing a lot more cos I wanted her to read it, and I wanted to know how she felt after reading it, how it moved her, her thoughts and opinions on what I’d written.

This was followed by the inevitable heart break maybe six months down the line, and after that my writing again went down to infrequent attempts to write when I was really lonely or frustrated.

Then came this online phase when I started to write online, and this phase u can pretty much follow by reading the blogs so far and noting the time intervals between them.

So that’s pretty much the story of us, that is me and my writing.