There is this statutory message in my office elevator. Something on the lines of:


For a very weird/unknown reason, I always misread it as:


Yes, you can call me weird, but it's happened with me at least ten times on different occasions. And for a strange reason, I always find my version of this statutory warning as a very comforting one. Like being offered hot cocoa on a chilly, winter day. That's the kind of fuzzy feeling I get every time I look at that message.

On certain days, I'm surprised how soon I've convinced myself that my life is never going to be the same. I go to the office, I pretend to laugh, have fun, socialize with other people, work, procrastinate, study, and basically do all the "normal" things.

However, scratch on the surface (which I often do), and voila, I'm a totally changed person. Though, I' afraid I'm not very proud of what I've become now.
There was this bubbling energy in me earlier, and that stupid habit of seeing the world through rose-tinted glasses. That is gone. Some simple pleasures are permanently ruined for me too (won't go around naming them here..would take forever).

However, I'm amazed at the inner strength that helped me cope through my personal tragedy.  I shifted my focus to things that I needed to do (both tangible and intangible). Given my unmotivated self, I'm truly amazed at how these simple things have helped me overcome the most difficult situation in my life ever. To sum them up:

  • started focusing on the have's rather than have not's. 
  • started driving 
  • joined a gym and started treating my body with a li'l more respect
  • got my brother's tattoo
  • did away with unnecessary people (relatives/cousins/so-called friends) and the drama they bring along
  • value my family a LOT more (well, I always did but now, they are Les Supreme)
I set mini-goals for myself now and try to achieve them, one step at a time. 
When I'd written my last blog entry, needless to say I was shattered. Not that I'm not anymore. But I've learnt to accept things that can't be undone, and shifted my focus on people around me who matter, things that I want to achieve for me, and provide them with. 

I'm still getting over it. I guess healing is a long, slow process. Quite unlike the blow I was dealt out with. But I'm optimistic now. Because I know people who mattered to me are always with me and will be with me. Amen. 

"It's not forgetting that heals. It's remembering." ~ Amy Greene, Bloodroot

My tears refuse to dry.....And there is nothing that seems to make sense to me now.
I don't know where you are or if you can see what we all are going through here. I miss you. I miss you so much.
The event of that night keep flashing in front of my eyes, till the time I'm choked with an unrelenting sense of sadness.

They tell me to be strong. I'm trying but I know I'm failing miserably. This world does not make sense to my any more. I wish you were here.

There is no one to make us laugh any more after a tiring day at work. There is no one to fight over chocolates with. There is no one who would ever care to drop me home like you did, no one who would ever care how I felt about things. No one who would make fun of my choices, no one who would get me huge bouquets on my birthday. No one whom I can buy that Blackberry for, no one who would force me to listen to Punjabi songs. No one to take care of papa, like you did. No one who would pester me at midnight for dinner, no one who would pull pranks at me, scare me or make us laugh till our stomachs hurt. no one comes to me now asking for tips on colour combinations and clothes, no one who can provide that feeling of being safe and being protected, being looked after. I miss you so much.

This world is cruel. There is no one with us here, no one who came forward to support or even offer an explanation. No one owned it up.  They came and they went away. It's this emptiness that's left. Why did you have to leave us alone? I am mad. Mad as hell at that wretch of a god who snatched you away. They tell me he loved you more than we did. I hope he is taking good care of you up there. I really, really hope you are happy wherever you are.
If not, believe me, I'm going to smack this god when I meet him.

I know my childhood is behind me. Our room, the things you would get us, that tape recorder you were making fun of, your stuff, your car.....its all here. It all reminds me of you. Each of it breaks my heart. Your stuff will remain here just as it was, just as you would have wanted. I am not going to let anyone touch any of it.

I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't know what either of us are going to do. But believe me, I'm trying my best. All of us are trying our best. We will do whatever we can to take care of mummy and papa just as you would have. And yes, I am going to get all that stuff you would ask for, do all the things that you wanted. You've went away and taken away a part of us. My words have failed me.

I hope you are happy wherever you are. I hope you get a much, much better life than you had here. And I hope you will come back into our lives one day.

I miss you so much.

I'd withheld not writing any of it here for the longest time now.And after years, I'm using my words just to pour my heart out hoping it will lessen the ache.  I am closing the comments on this one for the very same reason.  

Quoting a Quote

If any of you reading this post has cared to visit this site before, you would know that I love quotes. I heart them and more often than not, sign off most of my posts with a quote that inspired me.

Two of my favorite quotes go along the lines of Speak only if you can improve the silence.
and Some people speak coz they have something to say, others speak coz they just have to say something. (sic)

In my case I haven't written anything here recently simply because there was nothing that seemed worth sharing. A lot has been happening but it wasn't something that I wanted to chronicle.....yet.

Anyhow, I was reading and came across this beautiful quote by Robert Fleming, High Fidelity.

"What came first—the music or the misery? Did I listen to music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to music? Do all those records turn you into a melancholy person? … The unhappiest people I know, romantically speaking, are the ones who like pop music the most; and I don’t know whether pop music has caused this unhappiness, but I do know that they’ve been listening to the sad songs longer than they’ve been living the unhappy lives."

It struck a chord. It's so true.

P.S - I've heard they have a movie based on this novel. Have to, have to check it out.