The Grass on the Other Side is Grayer

We often say- "The grass on the other side is greener"
But like most things in this universe, there is an opposing statement as well to make sure that there is equilibrium attained. As much as we judge to see everyone's life better than our own, we also like to have preconceived notions that what others do is utterly wrong. Gossip away to glory on what decision they take and how its so sinful that karma has it out for them in their next lives and all such superstitions. Well, its time to bring that opposing statement into play.
"The grass on the other side is grayer"

I'm not contradicting the first phrase, but merely highlighting that what seems a sin doesn't necessarily have to be in reality. There are things that one says they'll never do in their lives; against their morale. But, put yourself in some "gray" shoes and you'll end up doing the same. At that point of time, it doesn't seem sinful at all. Why? Because, not only was what you thought just an assumption, but also, you never want to deny that you are wrong. So you end up saying- ''I had to, it was my only option out". You turn into the one thing you dreaded of becoming all because you've turned prisoner to the times. You accept it beautifully supporting it with a number of reasons and go on with your life. And then it hits you when someone says your field of grass is grey.

I'd reflect a bit before doing anything about those trying times.
If your morals are truly high strung then you'd find an alternative way out, but if the situation has the upper hand, you will bend it to it. There's nothing wrong it doing so for we all aren't a "yes" man. That's why its wrong to judge anyone's life. One can never let out all their secrets and let the world see them as they really are, so why judge something that's incomplete?  Let it be green or grey, the future is unpredictable and so are we at circumstances. Don't look at someone and treat them low because they don't meet your morals; don't sigh that you haven't been blessed enough. Stay on the border of the fence separating the two field of grasses and all will be right on track.   

Reins of Happiness

The chariot of your life must have the right rein holder....
I beg to differ... its not about the right rein holder. It has to be only you for a number of reasons. The sole one being that you cannot feel anybody's happiness but yours no matter how compassionate and understanding person you are.

Its a simple logic that we fail to see... obscured behind the "ideal" and order, even the most simplest facts turn twisted. Live for yourself, live with yourself, and life will live with you for long. Some of us see happiness in what we achieve, some see it in what others achieve because of them, and some just are happy if everyone around them is happy. There's nothing wrong in existing that but that's all you'll ever do... EXIST. If you want to stretch your limits and break your own records then you have to prioritize yourself first. Your happiness, your work, your relations....YOU. Put it in someone else's hands, and it becomes theirs. You can't really blame them either for keeping their own head above the water, or letting you fade out of their days for a while just to get their work done.

So don't go around putting all your happiness in somebody. Don't expect that they'll fight your battles, run a race along with you for at the end of the day its each man for himself. He's bound to run past you and reach the finish line. Keep the reins of happiness clutched tightly under your palms and direct it to where your dream dwells. For a while if you are too low, give it to someone who is not taking over, but one who safeguards whats yours till you're back. Never to one whom you're most attached to because this is another mistake that we tend to commit. Keeping your hopes up high, expecting a person to live up to those expectations is a fall back of your emotions. They rise like the tide and the dams break under the pressure if they don't meet them and soon before you know it, the city you've built your whole life is flooded with those emotions. It then starts eating away every beautiful thing created, and you lose happiness in what really matters. So pick up those reins soon, and be the master of your own life.
The chariot of life must have you as the rein holder..... 

Blog or Book?

Recently, while rummaging for topics to write in my active blog, I kept going to the book I've already structured. What I really wanted to do was get that book going. But jumping to a publisher as a fresher is way too risky and in the creative world once its out there, its no longer yours. Blogs have their own advantages:
1) Allows readers to comment
2) Posting pages, bits of thoughts.
3) Checking the response and tracking it.
4) Building a gradual image in the writing world.
5) Freedom of expression and target audience.

Well, I thought 'All this is a safer way to see if my book is going to do well'. That's when I began constructing a new blog- Etched to Reality. This is my way of trying to bring the book reading experience to blogs. The different pages of the blog are my story lines. The posts are my numbered pages. So its like an e-book, but you have to wait to read every page. The story lines will come together, events created and characters introduced to give rise to a story.  A page on the blog lets the readers communicate with each other about the turn of events, what they dislike or like. This gives me the opportunity in reforming my book after a careful study of my audience through the blog. And when the story ends, the book ends and so does the blog. It shall be viewed like a complete book then.

With this idea, I've launched my blog today. http://portalstowords.wordpress.com/
Many contradict that blogs should be maintained as blogs not books, but I don't see the harm in getting the best of both worlds. Look it up, and let me know what you feel is just.
Thank you!

Fleeting Moment of Freedom- 2

Missing some facts? Click here

I smiled and pulled my lips straight when his expression didn't change one bit. I looked back at the man and he sympathetically gave the chit back. I left the dais where the buffet line was set and walked down towards him.
'Pass it here' Rahul motioned. He pushed it into his front pocket.
'No! Farheen will find it! Let me knot it back' I lurched forward so much that I tripped and stood inches from him. He didn't say anything in the awkward silence that filled between us. He just walked ahead, towards the exit doors making me follow him.
            Outside, dusk was browner than I pictured it to be. And a lot louder as well. Sigh, the world had gotten badder inside and outside the theater. It was hard to follow Rahul, he was like an agile fish swimming through the crowd, leaving me behind to fend for myself. Myself. Something within my reach. Independence? Not quite...but it still felt good. Soon I lost him and trotted off like a distracted lamb, stopping at all pretty shining things at the small stalls. Felt better. While I was immersed in my new found freedom, a little bit of fear crept. Much as I longed for this day, I didn't know what to do next. Wasn't sure if I wanted to in the first place.  The Grand Theater was the only place I knew. And Rahul was the only person I knew out here. I stopped in my steps and was instantly pushed about by the people bustling around me. The sky was turning dark and I couldn't see with the poor lanterns in the stalls. My eyes began to search frantically for his green shirt, his black hair, his brown shoes....it surprised me at how much I had observed him. And just then when the street lights came on in a row, I saw him beneath one of them. A message for help and his face produced the same effect. Then, again, his eyes bored into mine. And again, I smiled. Again it felt like someone had undid my corset. Again I could breathe. But this time, he smiled back.
             I could've turned back and fled. I could've tugged at someone and accused Rahul. I could've gotten my dreamed freedom, but I weaved through the people and took his outstretched hand.  He said nothing as usual, but he held it tight and walked me through to the jewelry shops. Rahul picked up a blue, chunky earring and kept it near my ears. I didn't understand what he meant by all this, didn't know what Farheen would do if he found out but at that moment I didn't care. He'd point to different ornamnets and all I'd have to do is shake my head in response. At one point, while he was buying stationary for the sets, my eyes spotted an anklet. I fell in love with it the second I saw it. It was studded with smooth pearls like the ones that Farheen rented out. I lifted my skirt a bit, and imagined them there. When the trader peeked at my scarred feet, I crossed them and covered it. Sigh. Rahul held my hand afterwards and once all the shopping was done, we walked back to our home. We stopped at the entrance and collected the bills, counted the change and then headed inside.

Right before we passed through the black curtains that cut off my gloomy world from the glittery world, Rahul pulled me back gently. He spread out my curled palms and pushed something brown into them. As my fingers clutched it, I could feel the minute bumps of pearls. It was the anklet. He didn't say what it meant, but I understood. It was my hope that I could hold onto, till his help came. I could've done a lot more with the fleeting moment of freedom, but I couldn't have found this love then ...

Fleeting Moment of Freedom

               That particular night, Farheen rushed us into the set of 'expensive' clothes and doubled our makeup. We knew someone special was coming to see us, otherwise rags were all that he could afford off stage. As for Farheen; all 6''2  of him was dressed in an eloquent sherwani with ebony embroidery. The kind that matched mine, or it was meant to be the other way around, I was not sure. Hell, I was never sure why he dragged me like I was a complimentary gift that came with him or why he had to coordinate our clothes. But I was sure like every other time that they'd praise him, for getting such a beauty by his side and other things I'd make my ears deaf for. And yet I was the envy of the girls surrounding me; they wished to be in my shoes. Fact was, they wouldn't dare want to once I removed those shoes outside our 'home'.
             We had 2 hours before the show was scheduled to start but my act had already begun. I smiled through the ache from the bruises that Farheen absently revisited while he introduced me to the guests of our grand theater. I imagine they'd be potential sponsors in our upcoming shows as talks on money surfaced and my mind drifted off everywhere but there. Not too long after I was in my dream world, he snapped me out of it by deliberately taking my arm around his. Posing to be his muse was the most disgusting thing and that thought throbbed throughout the show. While the cheers and applause died down, I ran my fingers over the warm velvet fabric that I had just worn. A deep sigh and I let go of it along with the ornaments that made me look like a princess. Ready to face reality, I looked into the full length mirror backstage and saw the real me. Another sigh.
          'Wow brother! Our collection is just off the charts today!" Zavier exclaimed counting the cash, one sly eye at me. I pretended to dust the files in the office whereas I secretly viewed the names of people locked up in different dressing rooms. There was no point, the security was too tight and if I opened a door I'd probably set off an alarm, yet checking it was a habit that kept me alive.
         ''Eh.... Didn't you eat yet? Go... Eat" Farheen said pushing an empty plate towards me. I politely nodded and walked up to the half eaten trays that he and his boys had left behind. I shoved it all onto the plate, and segregated the portions to make it look as if someone bothered to serve me well and then stared at the plate. There was hardly enough. I looked out the window that connected the office and the huge hall. The caterers were packing up, but it was still worth a chance. Not at getting food, but at getting a fleeting moment of freedom. I inched towards the door.
"Where do you think you're going?" said Farheen as he breathed his cigarette down my back. I pushed my hair back and replied.
"There's not enough food. They might have some left overs." He considered it for a while; chuckled.
"Haan haan, go. I wouldn't want you making me look bad. Eh Rahul, go with her." Rahul, one of his silent boys got up, rubbed his hands over his shirt and walked ahead of me.
"And listen! Get some shopping done for the show on Friday night" he said pushing some crumpled notes into my palms. Rahul took them from me almost at once.
              Out there the caterers looked at me like I had faded to grey in my early 20's already. Of course they didn't recognize me. I undid the knot of my skirt where I hid my hope - a scrap of ticket paper with scribbled letters pleading for help. I scanned for Rahul ... he was chatting with the caterers, hands in his pocket. I quickly moved to the man who was putting hot steaming leftovers on my plate and dropped in into his basket of rotis. At first he was puzzled, but then he grabbed it and inserted it into his pocket in a hurry. It felt like someone had undid a tight corset. I could breathe. I hid a smile as I looked at Rahul again. This time his eyes bored into me like black beads.

Click here to read on.