Nomad at the desk!

flickr.com/rabingrg

Once Shakespeare cried out; Life is a drama and we are mere actors.
This line always resonates in my head: actors, actors!

I ask myself, Am I actor too?

Sitting in this cold chair, looking around happy faces: I confront myself. Am I not? When have I been real? I prefer to be more reel than real. I have always pretended to hide myself from gaze, stare, judgments, and what not?

Searching skeletons in my wardrobe!

I always acted like the big cat; not afraid to reveal, at least to some. But when time came, I chickened out. Chicken; cuckoo-doodle-do.

My dad always tried to teach me: stand up for yourself, not for others but for yourself. I try to look back; have I? When my own relatives tried to snatch things away, I pretended I am too young to confront. If only had I said NO, things wouldn’t have been this way. Probably, I would have something else to rant about but not this one. Many relationships made, broken, betrayed over the time but I never had my own say. Had I taken my own stand, would things be this way? Certainly not.
Is this trait going to overrun me this time too?

Truth: stranger, bitter, unpredictable, magnificent. But still the most feared one.

No, I can’t digest bitter and stranger truth. Would I be always waiting for truth to be magnificent?
With truth: comes judgment. And I am afraid of that. Your truth will be more stranger and bitter than my truth. Won’t it be, or am I now trying to judge you?

I thought it’s up to me: why, whom, when and how! Probably a cover!

It’s time to follow my father’s footsteps. I don’t care how ugly it could be but I am not ready to make nice! And also I am not ready to back down. I shall leave things from future for future to deal with.

Stranger, bitter, unpredictable, magnificent: but truth.

Being in love is incredible. And if someone responds back in same way:  hallelujah!! Nowadays i am addicted to one song i.e. Snow Patrol’s JUST SAY YES which i am listening over and over again. It’s all about us: we aching for love, care from the one we are crazy about.

We live in the world full of labels.

I was 10 when I first heard about Hitler. My dad used to teach us about religion called “Humanity” and Hitler was one of the Satan of his story. When he told me Nazi used to stamp labels on Jews, I shuddered and my small naïve mind thought: Hitler is mad, how could anyone do that. He is really a Satan.

But as I grew up, I began to see labels everywhere. The label begins from you birth or even before you are born; cute, ugly, badmas, gyani, smart, dumb, gay, straight, cruel etc. and etc. and the label continues. No it doesn’t leave you even when you die.

And strange part of labeling is: there’s not just one label, there are sub-sub-sub-sub labels as well.

I was browsing through some youtube videos. One video by Gay Blogger caught my eye. Yes I read gay blogs, now does that make me more gay? If I haven’t read, would that make me more straight? See here too is label. (Now I know you have label on me because of that too.)

Focusing on the topic, he answers questions he receives or shares his stories. He was asked: whether he was top or bottom, another label within label. That question made me wonder, why there are sub-labels within labels. Isn’t one label enough or do we so strongly believe in nomenclature that we have to label everything and anything. We put labels on class, culture, caste, sexual orientation, looks, work, gender, and on what not? Once you are done with labeling…now second phase starts… start labeling the labels as well, and the process continues. And still, many of us claim we are different than Hitler. But are we?

Hitler labeled people publicly, we label people privately. Only that is different, isn’t it?

People smile.

At every corner!

Probably you both once had coffee together or shouted cheers for your team together or just randomly shook your hands during some conference. Still, people smile at you!

Smiles are deceiving. You don’t know whether they are acknowledging smile or betraying smile or just I-know-what-you-did-smile.

After all, people try to interpret smile as per their mood.

Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa was right in front of me, smiling. I don’t know how she was feeling when her portrait was made. People have their own theories explaining her emotions. I don’t know what I saw in her eyes. After all it was hard to tell where she was looking at. It felt like she was following me everywhere in the room, between that jostling and pushing she didn’t leave her eyes off  me. As millions before me, I tried to smile her back or say grinned at her and tried to understand how she was feeling. With folding hands put on her stomach, what emotion she was going through.

I wonder, was she thinking about her child in her womb, people say she was pregnant at that time. Or was she laughing at Da Vinci himself thinking what an ugly bloke is painting my picture. Or she feeling sad thinking someday no one will ask me to paint again as I turn ugly hag. Or she is merely smiling back to people like us who are grinning at her.

I don’t know.

As I looked into her eyes, I felt her pain…. I felt her inner happiness. Was I trying to put my own emotions into her smile? Even if so, why did I see pain in her eyes? Was I too in pain, probably I was: in pain of being far far away. Then if I was in pain, how could I see her inner happiness? Or was I too content to be in city of love? Or was I just being another philosopher?

I tried hard to gauge her emotions but failed miserably; was she happy or sad? Or is it just an illusion? And Mona Lisa herself won’t explain. All she does is, smile at everyone.

Why is smile so enigmatic? Is every smile like that or is it just her smile? I know, I won’t buy any answers but still I can’t stop asking same question, again and again!

P.S. Look at the second picture! Apparently he is crying. But is he unhappy? Look again!

P.S. 2: Monalisa picture source: Flickr/Joaquín_Martínez_Rosado