Guilty for Feeling Good....

Its unfair that i have to feel this way... or should i say life's unfair altogether. I'd never realized that it'll hit me so bad, so hard... that it'll become impossible to take. I've turned into a loner, a saddist, a bore. Whenever in company, good funny company for that matter, i lose my wit, i have nothing to say. I'll often turn into a dumb nerd among crowds.
Anyways, the point is, it has become difficult to feel good, not because i'm not finding reasons to feel good... trust me i've many... but everytime time i get the feel good feeling, it's followed by guilty pangs, by remorse, like its a crime that i'm feeling jolly. Like for example, yesterday there were lots of happenings around me. It was my lover's birthday... big reason to feel good, even though i couldn't be with him, it just felt good to be able to wish him, send him flowers and talk to him. I left from office as usual in office cab, and luckily the driver had a decent collection of punjabi dance nos., that he did not mind playing at full volume. That livened me up even at the end of a long tiring day.. and i was enjoying everything about that moment... the music, the journey, the thoughts that filled my head, the breeze... and then a thought hit me. It was as if it almost slapped me and brought me back to reality, to firm ground. And i hated myself for feeling good right that instant. The thought was of my Dad... the one person i'll never be able to see or talk to in this life again...
Even though his thought, his memory is always a pleasant one, whenever i think of him and try to imagine his presence in my present, it hits me like a boulder has been dropped on my heart. It pains, and i seem to drown in guilt and remorse.. guilt for not being there for him, guilt for not being able to do anything for him, guilt for not being able to make the most of my time with him... cos i always thought there's a lot of time... and then guilt for how could i be so happy even without him... how could i feel good... how could i enjoy....
I'm parted from my lover... not forever, but yes definitely for a long period of time... the longest separation since we met.. the one that happens when you are in a relationship and are blinded by practicality and think its ok to part for a while... Anyways, now that he's miles n miles away from me, i miss him.. terribly.. and i miss the good times we spent together. But when i do manage to cheer myself up by diverting my thoughts, or meeting friends... i seem to be able to do a good job at it... and i end up with that feel good feeling... and then it hits me again... the guilt. How could i be so happy without him.. how could i enjoy or party wen he's not around... how can i feel good when i should be feeling all sad and gloomy... and honestly after all these hows enter my head, you should see my face... its like someone sucked life out me... all color gone... all life gone... And all that effort to make myself happy.. gone down the drain! I'm guilty for feeling good.... and this guilt is killing me!

Failing and falling at the same time..

I'm failing in life.. i'm failing on expectations.. i'm failing to fulfill responsibilities.. i'm failing to cope... i'm even failing in failing. I always thought i'm a good decision maker.. that i'm wise and that i get life. This is why i always made the decisions of my life, always decided on what route my life will go on next, and how. I took advice from the wiser men and women in my life, but eventually did only what felt right and comfy to me. I did make some poor choices in life, walked on tumbling steps, but recovered fast. I learned the hard way.. but atleast i learnt.. or thats what i used to believe until now.

I don't think i learnt from my mistakes.. i don't think i'd been wise at all.. n i definitely do not get life. As for being decisive, i've completely failed on that end. I've lost the ability to make sensible decisions, to figure out a smooth walkable path for myself, to watch my steps before i tumble badly. I've lost it all. I've become a failure with my life.. and i get it now.

I'm falling.. not in love.. but apart... i'm falling apart. I'm breaking inside.. and so is my wit, my courage, my determination, my strength and my values. I've become a quitter rather than a fighter i always thought i was. I quit on things and run away from them. I don't retaliate, i don't speak up, i don't fight.. i just turn around and run away. I'm damaged and wounded..... deep inside.

And in the midst of all this, i've been placed in a precarious role. I've been sought to make decisions, or to help in making decisions... big ones.. life altering ones.. My advice is sought.. my advice.. under the impression that i'm smart and i know what i'm doing, or what i should be doing. I'm sought after to make life easier.. under the impression that i'm capable enough to deal with life, that i can do it. But i can't.. I'm so incapable and unfit for the role.. i feel so incapacitated.. so helpless... i don't know what to do. I'm not ready for this... any of this...I'm not prepared.. i can't be.. i was left aghast..

I've experienced events i wasn't ready for, seen things i couldn't imagine and done stuff i never thought i was capable of. I've cremated my father with these very hands i write this post with, at a time when it was least expected of him to go... and my mom's seeking me out to help her decide the course of our lives, which he would've done if he were alive today. I'm expected to fill in his void, step in his shoes.. i can't.. i'm not prepared for this.. i'll never be ready. And yet i can't escape from the fact that he's gone.. and mom's all alone now.. and she too is highly unprepared.. and i can't leave her to deal with it all by herself. Somehow she believes i can make it all right for her.. i'm not so sure.. but i can't quit and run from here.. there's just no escape route or fire exit this side.

The good High!!

There used to be a time when i wondered why do people drink alcohol.. never really understood until i tried for myself. First time i tried, i loathed it. I guess it was because i wasn't of the right age to have tried alcohol.. or perhaps because it wasn't the best first drink to try.. white rum n limca.. yuckkkk!!

Then.. i grew up.. and perhaps ready to try again.. somethin different n better ofcourse! And i did.. but badly mixed up stuff. Mostly because i was goin thru a rough phase.. was angry.. and mostly because i din know mixing stuff actually can knock u out sooner. So all this got so complicated, that i completely forgot why i wanted to try alcohol.. I did figure out one thing though.. I used to watch people drinkin Red wine in movies.. n sumhow i had this notion build up in my head, that since wine's a product of grapes.. it oughta taste sweet n nice n stuff. So first day itself, i ordered myself a red wine.. n trust me..i havent tasted anything as bad as that till date. I hated it so bad.. i did bottom's up on wine.. when technically i din even know wat bottom's up meant. Somehow.. i still.. even after so long.. could not develop a taste for red wine!

But over time.. as i explored new n interesting stuff.. i figured its not about what new stuff u drink.. its about how that stuff makes u feel eventually. Its about the high a drink can get u! Its about the level of feel good feeling u get after having it. Its got nothin to do with the taste or the smell or the packing or the pricing.. its all gotta do with that amazing HIGH you get after having a couple of drinks.

And why i write this tonight? Cos am high.. :D.. a good non-dizzy feel good flirtatious n naughty high!! So Cheers everybody.. until next time!!

the passion that drives us all..

The passion.. the mere urge to take a step and do something.. with the sole purpose of attaining satisfaction and pure joy out of it.. how often and how many of us actually take that step? I bet, not many.
I'm fond of cooking, especially when its for others, often for the praise, but more often for the mere joy of watching someone get a sweet satisfaction out of eating something they liked, something that i could provide. But mostly, when i'm alone, and its about a routine cooking, to be done for myself, i prefer livng on bread and maggi.. why? Simply because, in a very true sense, firstly, cooking for one person alone never makes too much sense, and second and most importantly, there's no joy or satisfaction in it. You go through all the effort, of preparing a nice decent meal, just to feed yourself? I'm so not ever up for that. Its too much trouble to go for myself.
The thing is.. cooking for me isn't BAU. It isn't something everyone ought to do as a routine, like most Indian moms or housewives do. Its something.. or rather it should be THAT SOMETHING that makes you happy doing it. It should make you feel content, make it all worth the effort, worth a shot! I mean, where is the fun in BAU activities anyways.
Cooking is a passion. I love to do it when i know someone else is gonna love it too. I love to prepare a meal when i know someone else is gonna love eating it. I love to serve and give away food when i know some one is gonna be happy receiving and having it. It's precisely all about knowing what, how and by whom, a dish you prepare, is gonna be eaten, or more like , enjoyed by. Thats the whole purpose behind taking all the time and making all the effort that goes into actually preparing that one dish. I, for one, can't cook just for the heck of it.. just cos i gotta eat everyday.

Wondering, suddenly why am i so passionate about cooking? :)

Well, just finished watching Julie and Julia, and i just fell in utter sheer love with, not just the movie, but the passion that hid beneath it all. It was so intriguing, how julie takes up the challenge of mastering some 500 so recipes in some 300 so days, and actually succeeds in it. Why, simply cos of the passion she had.. for cooking, for blogging, for knowing the fact that people were reading her blogs, that people were connecting to her, that she was able to make something of her BAU life for a change.. and mostly for being like Julia, the real thing! It was a wonderful experience watching it, especially when i could connect to the way she felt about cooking.. not being able to do it just for the heck of it.

And as my blog title says.. It is passion after all, that drives us to do things, crazy stuff sometimes, just because it make us, and someone else out there too, a little or maybe a lil too much happy and content! It is afterall, what drives Julie, me and some others out there to cook, i guess!

Chasing Dreams

How often do we plan lives ahead? How often do we dream about our tomorrow? How often do we wish we could actually live our dreams? And How often do we actually take a step towards chasing our dream?
Life is full of possibilities.. we just need to be looking at the right places. People like me, often dream a lot.. we dream big dreams, of being big ourselves. We live in this fantastical world, where we are the rulers and everything works as per our wishes. We take control, we take charge.. and we earn freakish money. After all, the whole rat race is about the money, isn't it? Whether you work for someone else, or for your own. It all sums up to what you make, or earn at the end of the day.
We do dream, but often lack the courage to follow it. Why? Cos we got no money. And you cant chase anything in this world without solid financing. So, we start our lives, by things that pay. We all becomes engineers, doctors, accountants.. all so we can get into a good firm n make loads of money. But in reality, most of us engineers, doctors and accountants actually wanna be great chefs, artists, musicians. And so, we make a pact with ourselves. We say, ok we'll work as an engineer, but only until we have enough money to be able to open our own restaurant or start our own rock band. And what happens really? We start working, years pass us by, we make more n more n more money, and we just keep drifting away from our dream. Once the money starts kickin in, the dream gets kicked out. Why? Simple.. when is money really enough to make us stop earning it?
Come to think of it, if you want to start your own something.. a restaurant, an art gallery, a rock band, its gonna demand your time.. your attention, your money.. and not just some.. all of it.. and all of them at the same time. So, this means once you have enough money to start, you gotta quit your job n do it. How many of us can actually do it.. or even afford to think of such a possibility? I bet, none. Life is too full of needs. You fulfill one, another grows on you. Its like feeding twin kids, you finish feeding one, the other will get hungry, you finish feeding the other, the first gets hungry again.. and in this case, the no. isn't 2.. it just keeps growing!
So really, when is the money, or the need for it, or should i say, the hunger for it, really fulfilled, that you can actually think of persuing your dream? When will we ever let go of this fear or resistance to leave our blood sucking jobs to follow what we really love to do? Or should we just content ourselves with the fact that dreams are better off to be seen at night.. n not to be followed during the day? Isn't that unfair.. to ourselves. Aren't we all deliberately punishing ourselves by forcing us to do what we dont love?

Fear of death... bigger than death itself

I don't know about others, but i speak for myself right now. I live under a constant fear of losing loved ones. Ever since i grew up to understand the difference between life and death.. i've feared death. Surprisingly enough, not my own, but of those around me! Whenever i used to be away from my loved ones, and not be able to talk to them or see them for long, my mind started playing tortures. I used to always dread the worst possibility, like what if they met with an accident, or worse even, died. No matter how hard i tried, till date, i live under the same constant threat every moment of my life that i'm away from loved ones.
Its sad though, because, even when everything is all right, this fear of death, of losing a loved one, takes over me for a while, and thats the scariest part. I experience loss and grief over n over again. When someone we know actually dies, we accept this as fate, feel grief and sorrow for a while and then move on with life. After a few months, nobody remembers the ceremony, and the fear of losing that person again is gone with him. The threat is over. But if the person lives, so does the fear of his death, in the hearts of those who love him.
I loved my dad a lot, but was too shy to express. I never told him what he meant to me. I could never express how i live under this constant fear of losing him, whenever he used to go on tours. I used to get so mortifyingly upset with this feeling and the thoughts of how will i ever survive if i lost him. This fear took over so bad, that i even had a couple of dreams where i saw him dying. The mornings were dreadful. When i told mom about my dreams, she consoled me saying that if you see someone dying in dreams, they usually have a long life. It was a comforting knowledge, but hardly foolproof. And then he fell sick, really bad. There were constant visits to hospitals, loads of medication, and the fear was beyond expression. Since i lived away from home, just talking to him over the phone used to be a comfort that thank God he's ok, or more like, thank god he's still Alive!
One really big disadvantage of staying away from home, is that this fear is alwaya there in your head.. 24X7X365. The biggest fear is, if something bad really happened, you would never realize beforehand, that you are talking to the person for the last time. This is exactly what happened. I last spoke to my dad 5 days before he died, and i couldn't talk much, or anything relevant for that matter, since mom told me he's out of breath and i shouldn't talk for long. Who knew that was the last time i was to hear him! 2 days later mom called up and asked me to come over urgently.. he was critical. I rushed, but only in time to see him breathe few last times. He never opened his eyes, or saw me, he just passed away. The age old fear came alive, came true for me! What i dreaded my whole life actually happened, i screamed and screamed, but all in vain. He was gone, dead, finished.. just like that. As feared, i could not understand how i was to live without him. But the truth is, when reality strikes, it strikes so hard, that you learn to live the hard way. What fear of my dad's death couldn't teach me, his death in reality taught me. And the fear of losing him.. it died with him. It still feels unfair, but i can't fight over it.

Questions...???

What is this? Why is it so? Why are we so concerned all the time? Why so much stress.. So much tension all around us? N most of all why so many questions? Why cant there be just answers.. Solutions? Why do we need to ask always.. Whether its right or wrong? Whether its good or bad? Whether it will benefit or not?
Surprisingly all our life's important decisons have these questions associated to them. And in most of these cases we fail to find answers.. Hence more questions n more stress. Its weird though.. We are taught to think in questioning terms but never to reply. We are always told to think twice n ask ourselves these questions befor taking any decision and we do that too.. But surprisingly none of us ever came up with the concept of finding answers.. Or find solutions or being rational without requiring any questions.
Moreover whatever big happens in our lives.. Good or bad.. Leaves us inevitably in a bigger pool of questions.. Questions to which we never find answers. There's absolutely no one to help us find those answers cos everybody is messed up in their own life's questionnaire.. Seeking answers.. And so we get used to this living.. With question marks all around us.. And ourselves so busy living life like this that we dont care to know any answers.. I hate the " being used to " part of life.. The stupid compromise that we just give in to. Why does life have to be so complicated or confusing? Why cant it just be?

If only someone has the balls to reply to this.. Help me find some answers , please do so. I'm all ears!