Stoned To Light


The smoke fuses into my blood, a shard-like smattering that diffuses steadily and slowly, as if ensuring each molecule of my being has been consumed and devoured beyond recognition, utilised beyond repair. Each time diffusion occurs there also occurs an expansion of a myriad things otherwise perceived slower or faster, higher or lower, smoothly or not. It negates and dares to make comprehensible what isn’t and incomprehensible what isn’t. It dares to make me feel what I don’t want to.  Dares to rake the ground off, from beneath my feet to watch me fall flat on a pile of what I call ‘conventional’.

The world around me is now reeling. The branches and leaves are mere paintings in the hands of its master. The master is Me. With a stroke of a finger, a strike of a hand, I can change the face of it. I choose to see fireflies and Lo! they appear as if summoned by the supreme. The world doesn’t seem so vast any more. It feels accessible and conquerable.

I soak in the energy that is jerking every inch of my body awake. My head is in a place I never knew existed, I see a brighter light, a happier laugh, a louder creaking of the cricket nearby, a brighter crackle of the fire, embers with wings. I see beautiful patterns emanating from the fire in front.

Existence means so much more now. This void, this scarcely visited place is lending meaning to my being. What it is actually doing is wrenching me, draining every established prospect and putting me out to dry, to soak in all I want to, afresh. It’s killing me and reviving me. Resurrection.

Why does it have to be this way I wonder. A clearer world perceived only in the haziest of moments. Or what I perceive is a hazy moment. A diffusion where each breath has meaning and each meaning a relevance.

This is precisely what people are scared of, me coming to my senses, me seeing the light of the day and the truth in the hour. If I dare to see, I will dare to speak and dare to spill what should not be seen, heard, noticed or known. It’s a long night of revelations. Everything is a discovery. An unlearning and re-learning of the learnt.

The food is a burst of flavour on the tongue, the water an ebbing hydrating stream coursing through my body. Each blink, each swaying of the stray lock of hair in the breeze is a feeling to behold not at my behest. Here is a clear answer to what is under my command and what isn’t.

A fading light, a longer laugh, a dark dark night. Abysses of answers and crevasses of lies, tunnel ways of questions and rays of truth, the greed of seeking and the mirth of knowing, the want for satisfaction and the run for more, the lie in the weaving and the truth in the thread. All here this moment and all is gone the next. Fade, resurface… fade, fade..FADE.

Woosh! And it’s gone. Another pull of the elixir and it is there in a distance. Bask and let go and it resurfaces. That light. That shimmering, shining, gleaming, blinding light. Confusion? Assertion. Acceptance.

The High

She was a nervous wreck. This was a first. She had tasted the high many a times in other people’s presence. But alone with the beast, so high above, definitely a first.
She took her bird to a smooth take off. She flew up above and beyond the realms of real life. The contours that defined the constraints of life were now fast diminishing. She had left them behind and she had braved it all herself.
She scaled a while with the sea gulls above the clear blue water. She swore she could see beneath the brilliant blue sheath, that camouflaged an entire existence, an entire world all by itself equally unaware of the life beyond.
She whizzed past countless tree tops and high buildings. The snout of her bird touched the peaks of mountains and then soared higher. To discover a higher calling, to invent a new love for life. To scale the heights many wouldn’t dare to. She was a bird, she had wings, and this was definitely a new high. Myriad colours, those of a world left behind, a clear blue sky, a bed of fluffy clouds.
It felt just like sitting up on a study and seeing a map, just that this was more real than it felt.  She kissed the sun, its brightness and  aura palpable! She stuck her hand out to soak in the energy, the cosmic power. The ultimate giver was in eye level with her. She felt one with the power, the aura, the beauty and the energy. She could feel her spirituality surfacing; she tasted divinity, the kinds that do not come from beliefs and rituals but from purity and sanctity.
She flew above the highest of peaks to reminisce in their mightiness. She conquered what was but a dream and whim to many. She was in fact above them all. She left behind a world full of competition, deceit, forgery and disrupt. She flew away to a calmer, a purer horizon.
Every thing that ever haunted her, was so far behind. She felt clean. She reached an assumed obsoleteness.
The mountains, a beautiful imperfection, touched her feathers while she grazed through them. She was equivalent to the movable and immovable powers, alike.
Her snout touched the fire and her wings basked in the warmth of existence. The fiery orange so magnificent, its empowering attitude so overwhelming.
 She could fall back on a bed of clouds and lay there all day. The blue, so even, you could be in a trance all day just looking at the calming stretch.
There is something about the world beyond, that remains untold. The serenity it imparts is unusual. People talk of going away on a holiday to de-stress, and the irony of it. It is a getaway albeit the stress remains.
We chase so many things in life. Or rather pursue, if that is a fancier word. And its all simply in the head. We are just going in circles, really. The real high comes from the unknown, the forbidden, the unspeakable, the unexplainable and unexplorable. You don’t need to be a bird to fly. Fly in your head.
Fly high enough to feel the high though.

The Unpredicted Silence


Ever wondered what will become of the nation? Ever wondered where it all ends? Will we overcome this, will we not? Will we continue protesting, will we turn quiet or will we all just turn a blind eye!? Will the victim gather herself to speak up? Will she be silenced too, like the many that have gone unheard?  Or maybe she will be too young to tell. And what happens to the offended? He walks away, every time, free to victimise another and yet another? Do we lose the freedom, now? Or are we free at all?

Where does one draw the line, get up and act? Wait, can we? Where does this end?

There have been countless women. Countless men savaging their dignity, messing with their lives, trampling over their dreams like they were pieces of rag. It was inhuman! There were protests, huge and loud. The entire world heard it. It hit the frequency, it needed to. Yet, we have all moved on. Once again, it has all been put behind, since we have a life to tend to, a career to nourish, a family to answer to and a future to look forward to.

And this is exactly where the irony hits you hard. What if tomorrow, you are the victim? What if you lost that life you so carefully tended, that career you fertilised, the family you loved, what if your future went bleak?

We, are globally content in assuming nothing can go wrong with us or our family, our neighbours, our friends. Its like cancer, you always believe it can never claw anybody you know, it is too painful to consider.

Are we chasing hollow dreams? Because, deep inside you know it, it could be you. It could be anybody and it solely depends on the situation you are in. This is where we gear up, not to protest, because even god knows, its not working. The men who want to rape, don’t care less.  We gear up to face the demon and fight back.

Lets consider situations, all of us women have definitely come across, men staring at us, more like sniggering, many of us have been victims of lewd remarks and quite a lot of us are victims of some physical assaults, including light brushing of arms, intentional touches and much more serious occurrences. What do we do, or more appropriately, when do we do what?

So here is what I have learnt, you have to object to all the above, of course, but consider your surrounding first. You see a lot of people around you and you are sure they will help you, then go for it. Turn around and ask him to stop what he is doing right now!  Now the biggest problem is, how does one know when the crowd will be ignorant or participative and this is exactly where our instincts work best. It is believed , a woman’s instinct is very apt and should be believed. Your gut feeling, your first instinct is right more often than you know it. This is also useful in other areas. You may get a reflex that the auto driver is staring at you and not for the right reasons, or you observe a pattern in the case of your neighbours omnipresence.

I have seen women being ignorant about so many things one needs to take note of. This is the loophole. You must carry, a pepper spray with you, even a Swiss knife, since most of us are not good at the martial art way of coming around. These are ultimate necessities. This is anybody’s first step at being geared.

God knows, having a man with us is turning out to be futile, because the men with us are getting hit too and clearly this is not chasing our demons away.  So yes, it is time to consider dressing appropriately at the right occasions. Give that sexy dress a miss, when venturing out at night, just to be safe, unless you are 200% sure, nobody can touch you with the kind of people you are around. I was ignorant about this too, I was rebellious and thought, why should I compromise on my wishes, but clearly the nation has come to this. Nobody is going to save you if you can’t save yourself.

When you take an auto or cab, watch out for tiny, deserted alleys. Alert your friends and family every time you board an auto or cab, and give them his registration number and make sure he hears you when you give this information. This will make him cautious.  And why don’t you try giving the auto a miss and taking the local bus, saves you the money anyway!

Make sure, that any weird activity at work, at your locality, or anywhere is known to your people.  At least they are aware. Also, when using a wash rooms or a trial room, do a simple check to see if there are hidden cameras. At times, in the trial rooms the mirrors are just glass silvered to make it mirror-like. Here is how you can be super-sure, call somebody when you are outside the trial room, your call will go through, then go in and call again, if you come across any disturbance or if the call doesn’t go through, there are hidden cameras due to which the phones signal are being interrupted. Secondly, with the mirror, put out your finger and touch the surface of the mirror, if you see a gap between your finger and the reflection, it is a real mirror. If there is no gap, it’s actually glass and you are possibly being watched.

Let’s face it, we are being ripped of our freedom at this rate, but I have a feeling this is the only way to save ourselves till this whole thing gets fixed. When you cannot change the law to stop something, you adapt to the system and become cautious!

The Random Sonder

Two feet clad in teal loafers, shuffle about clearly in some kind of a hurry. The wait has been incredulous. There were many restless actions including the gazing at the watch, a sure sign that you aren’t happy with your current action or location or position and the only thing holding you back is someone or something.


A pair of colourful converse briskly walk past. My gaze shifts from the loafers to these. I look up at the fast moving figure. He has a backpack strapped on. A hurried call confirming whereabouts tells me he is going on a trip with his buddies. A bunch of them. I don’t like how I am almost eavesdropping! Yes. Almost.

“Its Pondi time bro”, he exclaims.

Beach. Ofcourse. Everybody loves them. I love my beach trips. They are therapeutic. Who doesn’t love sand beneath their feet and an endless sight of blue and a brilliant orange nestled bang in between?!

He’s going to have a wonderful time I assume. He probably has a 9-5 job with his weekends meaning piled up house work. A break is what he may have been looking forward to. Maybe his girlfriends going too. Or is it a birthday?

Aah, the thought of an escape makes your heart ache in desire.

The guy disappears in the crowd.

Her loafers have this massive buckle that gleam in the light. A phone call has been made to the awaited person and some unpleasantness is brewing.

“I’ve had a rough day Steve, the last thing I want to do is to have to wait to escape from my misery! ” she sighed on the phone. A few apologies must have tumbled out of Steve’s mouth, more out of habit than lament.

Steve will make it in a few. They’ll probably head to a peaceful bar and down a few shots so Ms. Glistening Loafers can unload her woes for the day.

I wonder if that’s Steve’s job. Agony aunt. Does she empty her heart out to him every time, bequeathing him with an uncalled-for distress. Is that why he was late to begin with?

Aah! Men and their ways of dropping hints.

Hey, I could be completely wrong though! What if Steve loves being Ms. Glistening Loafers’ agony aunt. Or what if Steve is her brother and he feels obligated. What if Ms.  Glistening Loafers isn’t half as dramatic after all!

A lady walks by holding on to her young daughter’s arm. They are swinging their arms together. They are laughing. Maybe the mother and daughter duo are just back from an animated movie session and are now discussing the movie! 

“That was so much fun Mommy!”exclaimed the excited child.
“It was, wasn’t it? We’ll go again next week, sweetie!”, said Mom.
They may have been at a park, maybe? Or did they go meet a friend and have a good time? Maybe they went  to this painting class together!
The child’s swinging hands hit Ms.Glistening Loafers. Oh Oh.
“I am sorry, Aunty” exclaimed the child contracting all the worlds innocence on that one little face.
“That’s alright, honey! ” crooned Ms.Glistening Loafers, as she tousled the child’s abundant curly hair.
Ms.Glistening Loafers is now smiling and looks up. Having spotted a familiar face in the crowd, her eyes light up and stay fixed on the arriving figure. As he draws closer, she looks at the watch strapped to her hand and looks up at Steve ( I guess) with mocking reproach.
Steve takes her into a swooping hug and apologizes. She is laughing now. Now I know why Steve is your agony aunt. More like, his presence will suffice. Aww!
Steve’s arms go around her waist and they hop away in the din of the evening. A beer or two and a good laugh maybe? Steve looks the fun kind!
I can’t believe I haven’t looked at my phone in the past 10 minutes. Absorbed in the activities right before me, I have done something I have never done before!
If you look at it from my view, that one day, you will see emotions, a myriad emotions. If gestures talk, you have just had a glimpse of a moment that ceases to exist the very next second. Its like you are a part of that persons feelings for that one second. Any reverse emotion you felt on seeing another person’s emotion, is embedded and irreversible. You have subconsciously just made yourself a part of someone’s life, even if just for a second. What effect it has had on you is unknown to your random person, sometimes even to you. The fact that you will see the person at some other point and recognize him/her is unsure, but for now what has happened is probably the smallest, the minutest exchange of a feeling.
Humans capable of feeling and emoting to such large extents, often miss these small, random energy/ thought exchanges/ sightings. There’s so much to remember, that we cease to remember and yet somewhere in the corner of your brain, rests forgotten a memory, a sighting, an experience, a learning, love or hate, empathy or remorse, passion or lament. And you will carry this to your grave, the event lurking surreptitiously.
In the massive event logs database of the universe, your small accidental meetings, or events that cease to exist for you, entwine you to each and every other creature in some way or another. You have probably micro-communicated (this may not be an actual word) to an entire universe. Who are we to deny it, for we are specks in the universe unnoticed just as these micro-communications are a flickering or a non existent memory. Just like specks of dust slipping out of your hands to form a heap, of which you cannot pick one speck and put a purpose or reason to.
But these specks of dust form heaps of sand alright, and we all now how important that can be.
It is a small world after all, when you look at it from the universe. It is a small world when you look at it perched on a stair case right beside a road and see its life ebb in front of you.
It is a small world. And that is comforting.