Sunday 22 July 2012

There’s always a rainbow between every sunshine and rain.




There’s always a rainbow between every sunshine and rain.




All unmarried people ask… the same question. How does it feel to be married?

I was once on the other side of the wall, trying hard to take a peek into the green pasture, which I saw from far. Least did I know that in reality there wasn’t much difference. I thought there was a whole up-to-the-minute world out there. Before my big day, I asked a lot of married friends of mine, they all said aloud…. ‘’PLS don’t get married……’’.

After 2 years into marriage, I am still the same person who stood behind that wall yesterday. There is beyond doubt a slight alteration in my daily routine (which definitely includes cleaning, washing and cooking). Everyone who’s reading this… if you’re not a cleanliness freak, please ignore this part.

I had imagined a life full of enchanting splendor awaiting me on the other side. Initially I felt numb to accept reality (I m sure many of us have even been strode stricken). I was diffidently hard hit when my dreams were shattered. It never struck me that I wasn’t living in the 80’s-90’s drama world (modern time’s fairy tales). Some of us blame, nag and cry – Others bear with it, and pretend to be happy.
I realized blaming, nagging and whining were symptoms to be worried about. I Immediately called the doctors – My friends. We all know the absolute friendship saying ‘A friend in need is always a friend indeed’, which we quote necessarily and unnecessarily. We seldom use it only because we all absolutely understand the meaning of it, but rarely does it come handy. Initially there was always an ear to my cries. My sorrows were their sorrows. In a while, I realized it wasn’t very pleasant to hear someone whine and brag almost all the time. Eventually my signs turned into an ‘attitude’, which bored others. The rest is imaginable. Habitually I realized that too much of my unhappiness crushed the quote that always rang in my head. I m glad I didn’t lose any friends to whom I always painfully skinned out my entire quandary. I consciously took hold of my situation of me being on the brink of being branded as a character. The lesson I learned from my verdict is that I would rather keep friends for good times and keep my solitude to help me shadow my grief.

Finally I had to step back to acknowledge the truth. It took me a lot of time to appreciate that it was not my marriage that failed me but it was my soaring expectations about the fairy land I dreamt of. I contemplate that my fantasy was the sole enemy who traumatized my life. Don’t we all mistake it for our marriage??On an over all, my lost fantasy depression syndrome that crept into me made me decide that being single was always better.
Well…. Isn’t this the rumor or the bad message we multiply every day. Aren’t we sadists to bestow an off beam impression about the concept of marriage? Just because I allowed myself to create my own fantasy, I botched to enjoy that ice-cream when it was cold and sip on that coffee when it was steaming hot. I waited until the ice cream melted and the coffee turned lukewarm.

Time never runs back, but we definitely have sufficed time at our forefront to build new fantasies. I fixed myself some most modern fantasies and I totally enjoy my marriage, love and the comfort zone I share with my partner. I suppose there’s no fun if you don’t wind, unwind and rewind relationships.
Its high times all the married people around the globe stop pulling the wool over somebody else’s eyes? It is our minds which make our relationships lukewarm and undesirable. Let’s live it when it’s still enthusiastic…. and let others also have their share of fun in marriage.

I still don't know if my marriage has turned into a rainbow!!! 
There’s always a rainbow between every sunshine and rain.



I say;

My soul is untouched

They say my soul is buried
They say my love is conquered.

A touch should be soft as a feather
It should touch your heart
A kiss should be hot as a dragon
It should burn your soul
A bond should be hard as a frost
It should make you quiver.

Lost were those days
When a touch of the feather gave me goose bums
Lost were those days
When the kiss of the dragon seemed so hot
Lost were those days
When those bonds held me back.

I fell into the deep water
Lost in the depth
Floating with the waves

While being washed on to the shore
I crept into the crimson bottle
Then together we float
Ahead of you to be found.



 ~ Prinzie



Friday 20 July 2012

Collectibles..... once a toy !!!


Collectibles

Like all children I too had hobbies and collectibles. Collectibles can sometimes be weird, but there was a time when I was focused on it day and night.

In my early days, one of my weirdest collectibles used to be Nido tin seals. Nido was a famous brand for milk powder. Those days it had odd promotions. It goes like this…..The more number of tin seals you collected, you had more chance of winning a prize - depending on the promotion. Sometimes the prizes were walk-mans, clocks, salad bowls, coffee mugs, toys, bags and many more. One of it was to collect 15 tin seals to claim for a walk-man. I waited for months to finish collecting 15 tin seals to own a walk-man. I forced myself to drink more milk so that my mom would buy more of Nido. The day I achieved 15 seals was the happiest day of my life. I was going to be an owner of a walk-man. I rushed to the store and grabbed my prized possession. To my sheer bad luck, it worked for a few minutes and then stopped. That was the most heart-breaking episode of my life. After a lot of crying I finally managed to get more tin seals from my mom and got another one. It worked perfectly fine and was one of my best possessions.

After having accomplished my first collectible prize, I never stopped. I went on with my collections and finally won all the prizes that were up during the promotion time. I m sure all ma friends back in gulf those days shared the same happiness as i did.  

I really don’t know when I stopped, but when I come to think about it now. I feel it was the best moment of my life, when I earned something for all the hardships I went through to posses them. I wouldn’t have been so happy about my goodies if it came to me effortlessly.

By the way….I still have the walk-man but i lost all the others.

 I say;
Tiny little collectibles
Was my joy
Tiny little collectibles
Were my Toys

I looked at it all the time
They looked so beautiful
And I swelled with pride
My possessions seemed
Like a treasure

Once it was a joy
Once it was a toy
Later it became a throw away
And finally it found its place
In the junk. 

Every piece of gold, has a story to tell !

Lady in Black

An instance which happened when I was 6 years old. On an October weekend my parents set out with me and my sister to the Gold souk (Arabic market), with our usual circle of family friends. Almost all the expatriate Indians in Dubai those days had a common place to hang out. It was the gold souk; No matter how many countless times they have visited this place for years, they never got bored of it. They kept coming back week after week to check out the new designs in the jewelry stores. For our parents, buying gold was like buying groceries. On one of those window-shopping occasions, my mom as usual was super excited about the dazzling gold hung in the shop display windows. 


My friends and I played on the escalators and the fountain outside. Playing on the escalator was one of our fun sports. For us trying to go up on an escalator that was meant to go down was more entertaining. Then we shifted to an upgraded game of playing on the fountain wall. The game was to balance yourself on the thin fountain wall and in walk full circle around it, without falling into the water or on the pavement. I believed it was risky and only the brave could do it. 
By the time all the gold discussions were over and when it was time to leave my mom realized that I was missing. They hysterically started searching for me. My sister and best friends wept their tears out over the distressed situation of me being lost. I am still not quite sure why they cried; was it because of their tremendous love for me or simply because they were scared of being blamed for my loss. However, after a lot of howling and crying, they found me walking the souq with an Emirati Lady - clinging to her hand. I still have no clue how I got into her hands. Was she a good lady who wanted to just console a child in distress by helping her find parents? Or was she a mean lady who kidnapped kids? Either ways, the lady told my mom that she found me standing alone glaring at the glittering gold shop. (Guess I too had a secret flair for gold somewhere hidden inside me, like all mallus).

According to my mom’s tearful story, I wasn’t even crying. I am sure she was upset about it but at the same time glad that I wasn’t treated badly or tortured. However over the years my mom managed to add enough colour & spices to her tearful story, which she knew she would narrate it for the rest of her life. Well… my mom really did justice to the story and she still keeps it alive even after 20 years and I see a potential of it running house full for another 20 plus years.

At least now you know why mallus are crazy about gold.... every piece of gold they own has a story to it!!!




 I say;

Glittering gold blinded her eyes
Glittering gold blinded my eyes
My mother’s sob for her lost lamb
I cried for my lost home

Lady in black
Holds my hand
Walks me home
To my safe haven - My mother.