The Faerie Princess

Once upon a time in a land far far away, lived a Faerie Princess. She draped the beams of sunshine around her as a robe and walked on a road made from moonlight. She carried in her heart love that knew no bounds and happiness that made everyone around her feel happy. She was the most beautiful faerie in the land, both inside and out. She was the favourite of not only the other magical creatures of the land, but also her fellow faeries. Even when everything was lost and the world seemed dark, her smile would give everyone hope and her words would make them feel like there was hope in the world. She was their pride, their joy, their friend, their fellow-in-arms, their guide, their hope and their love.
But one day, she broke a feather. She was fluttering high up in the heavens, sprinkling joy over the world like glitter when a storm hit. She fought as hard as she could, but finally succumbed to the pressure of the strong blowing wind. Her feather broke and the tears came streaming down her face. She weeped as she fell through the clouds and the clouds weeped with her, for her. She weeped for what had been and what could have. She weeped for what would be. The tears just kept flowing...
But suddenly, she wasn't falling anymore. She opened her eyes and realized that she was being borne by the other faeries. They smiled at her, reassuringly, though they knew that it was barely a fraction of the reassurance her presence always guaranteed them. They slowly descended through the clouds and brought her back to the earth. The Princess opened her eyes. All the creatures that she had ever touched in her life, all the creatures who loved her and cherished her were awaiting her return. And when they saw that their Beloved Faerie Princess was safe, a smile lit up each of their faces.
And it was then she realized that those smiles were proof that she had a reason to live. She was their sunshine. Their Faerie Princess.

Fire and the Wind

I square my shoulders and take a deep breath. I knew this was going to happen someday. I was expecting this, I believed that I was actually ready for this. Then why am I unable to stop the tears? Why does this feel like a blow? Why does it hurt so much?
I leave my room. My sanctuary- a sanctuary that is mocking me now. The walls seemed to be provoking me, laughing at me and my naivete. I go out to the balcony. The chill wind slapped my face cruelly. But that was fine, absolutely. That way, I could just pretend that the tears staining my cheek were due to the cold, cold wind. But why do I cry? Wasn't I prepared for the hurt? Or did I think, even for a moment that things could have turned out any different? If I did, then I was a fool. And I deserve the hurt. The cold wind ceases to blow, and I am left with nothing but my lonely self for company. And the lonesome dog howling into the night.
I wake up in the morning and put on my mask. I talk to people, laugh at their jokes. They think I'm happy and that the sun is shining bright. Someone comes up to me and tells me a joke. I throw my head back and laugh. No one notices the lone tear that slides down my cheek.

Raindrops

A drop of rain. That's all it took.
Okay. A few drops.
Fine! A downpour!
But in the end, its the rain. That's all it took.
A week full of tension, work and some more work. A week full of disappointments, insecurities and mockery. Questions were left unanswered and so were emotions. Smiles played on lips even though the heart was far from the world. Passing faces in the crowd- some known, some unknown. All in shades of gray. Bleak and uninviting. The bright sun shone in the sky. Warm and cozy. To me, it felt like cold, uninviting fingers gripping my soul and draining the life out of it. The day was clear. I hated it. The skies were blue, the sun shone bright. I wished it would just go away.
And then it did.
First a few drops of rain. Then the heavens opened up and poured out their heart and their love. I turned my face towards the sky. The raindrops cleansed me.
Rain. That's all it took.

Loss of Innocence

It all started when I was watching Anne Frank Movie on Discovery. A passing comment that The Diary of Anne Frank was probably the most boring book ever actually got me thinking. I have always loved the book, though i never paused to think why it was so. The comment i received was that the book was mundane and boring. What was so special about a 13 year old Jewish girl writing from a rundown building? At least if she had written it from the camp, then it would have been a different issue. I knew that it wasn't so, that the diary was unique and beautiful. But the question was why was it so? There was only one way to find the answer- read the book.
So I read it- for the umpteenth time. I found what I was searching for- the answer was always there.
The Diary of A Young Girl isn't an account of the terror that was Nazi Germany. It is just a diary of a 13 year old girl named Anne Frank. Her mom called her Annelise Marie Frank when she got angry with her daughter. She had dreams of making it in Hollywood one day. She cared about her friends, her cat, schoolwork, her grades. She thought of boys, got excited when she got her first kiss. She always looked for the good in others. She had her own hopes, dreams and insecurities- she was human. And this is exactly what is needed to be portrayed. This shows exactly why the Nazis were the most cruel and inhuman tyrants. Not just because of the fact that they killed and destroyed lives- but what the lives represented. It was not the mere destruction of over 17 million people, but the destruction of millions of cherished dreams, ambitions, insecurities and fears. It was the destruction of the will to live. Like a cold wind that blows out the candle shining bright, the fire that each and every person held in their hearts and souls was blown out, till nothing remained but the ashes.
This is what Anne Frank represents. The millions of innocent children who lost their homes, hearths, loved ones and their own selves. The hope that they carried in their heart, even during those dark dark times that one day this will all be over and they'll go back home. The belief that even amidst all the cruelty and madness, beauty did exist in the world. The belief that someday, lilacs and freesias would still bloom in their backyard.
In Anne's own words- Go outside to the fields, enjoy nature and the sunshine, go out and try to recapture your happiness.Think of all the beauty that's still left in and around you and be happy!

Friends Forever

I love the beginning 'Once upon a time'. And I hate 'Lived happily ever after' just as much. No offense meant to any of the brilliant fairy tales. In fact, those fairy tales are my sole inspirations during bleak times. But happily-ever-afters are really misleading.Pain and sorrow are an essential part of human life without which happiness and pleasure will have no meaning at all. And being a morbid freak, I think I accept pain (or would accept pain) just as readily as pleasure. Happily ever after isn't a conclusion or a destination, it is the journey. Happily ever after is not living happily with the ones you love forever, instead it is the faith or the knowledge that you won't be alone in your sorrow. And that's exactly what every human being yearns for. Everyone- including Boo Radley and Juliet Capulet.
The previous blog post was dedicated to M. M, I'm really sorry if I have hurt you with my tactless comments. But please acknowledge the fact that we are two different individuals. We might have many things in common but we do have certain important differences. And its perfectly alright if we do argue, because at the end of each argument, we would have found something new about each other that we didn't know before. When I argue with you, I am just providing a different take or view on a subject, I am not saying that you are wrong. I know I am not perfect and that I make mistakes. Also, I know that I make mistakes; so I would rather you tell me instead of agreeing with me when I'm making a stupid comment just in order to avoid an argument. But I still really do think you should read Austen.
As we go on, we'll remember
All the times we've had together
And as our lives change, come whatever
We would still be, friends forever

Two Beings

Once upon a time, there were two girls. Both of them came from two different universes. They weren't similar. They were two different characters with some different dreams, hopes and ideals. But they shared a bond-a bond that was deep and true. Their similarities bound them close. Both of them loved cartoons and animes, UFO Baby, Orlando Bloom, Edward Cullen and an uncanny liking of making oinking noises over the telephone. They shared common passions, fetishes, goals, insecurities and fears. They didn't know what the future would bring, but they knew that no matter what happens, they will be there for each other. They were friends, and they loved each other, in the loosest sense of the term. Not just friends, they were companions, sisters.
Things go wrong. No matter how tricky you are, no matter how cunning it's impossible to elude the wretched, wretched thing that is conflict. One small word here, one snide remark there and suddenly before they knew they hadn't spoken with each other for weeks. They picked up their phones, and finished dialing the other's number before cutting the call. Unsent messages, mails that were written and deleted. They missed each other, but neither of them had the courage to admit it.
Then one day, one girl picks up the phone, swallows her pride and admitted to her friend that she missed her and what she could do to make it alright. And that was all that took. Three simple words that made even the most hurtful comments and wounds insignificant. For no matter what, they knew that they were friends, in the truest sense of the word. And more importantly, they knew forgiveness. The truth is, they loved each other.

Things go wrong.

I don't know why I am writing this. Frankly, I have no idea. What am I going to write? How am I even supposed to express myself? And why am I writing here, instead of my trusty journal which is not actually that trusty? The truth is, I don't know. I don't know how telephones actually work, or how birds fly. I don't know how and when things turned wrong. It was supposed to be perfect. I was with the ones I loved the most, my holiday plans were in full swing and nothing was left to be desired. But that's what I thought. Rule 1 of life- things go wrong. If you don't notice, they go really wrong.
I didn't notice. Maybe I couldn't. Actually, I still can't. I can still feel the laughter and comfort. Everything was right or at least, I believed it to be. But I was wrong. Worse- I didn't realize it. Maybe I had one laugh too many. Maybe I proved my loyalty to Austen in a wrong way. Where did I go wrong? More importantly, how do I mend it?
There were no signs- no lightning, or thunder or heavy rain. There was only silence. A silence so deep and impenetrable that it seemed to breathe for itself.A silent and sneaky monster, it reared its head, and in one breath destroyed something so valuable, cherished and loved. One card topples from a castle of cards and the entire structure comes tumbling down. All you can do is pick up the cards and build a new castle again. But what if you don't want to? What if the castle isn't what it used to be? What if the castle, that used to be a source of joy and escape has now turned into a frosty and biting ground? What if it hurts?
A person once told me that if you are meant to have something, then you will get it. But it is better to let go of a thing that hurts you. Maybe that's what I ought to do now. Because I know I don't deserve that hurt. And I very well know that I deserve a proper goodbye.

And So It Goes

I am obsessed with everything morbid. That's not a well known fact. As a result of an over cheery disposition, people tend to think of me as one of those people who would blindly trust her knight in shining armour, and believe in fairy tales and happy endings. Which I do. But not all the times. There are times when I think they are totally hopeless. Like today.
Obviously, something happened today. I can't call it the cause of my depression (Okay, sadness). The forlorn and melancholic part of my soul isn't exactly hidden deep underneath. It is actually very close to the surface- always looking for a reason to come out. The funny part- I actually like it at times. Like being sad and forlorn, I mean. Being endowed with an enormous amount of optimism, I usually do not get sad. Its just when something actually triggers the usually dormant emotions and everything is like bang boom! And there you go- I am depressed. And as always, I blame it on PMS. Safer to do that, or else people will start thinking that I am mentally unstable or something. There is nothing wrong with being depressed at times. It can even be considered healthy. As a wise man once said, You can never know happiness unless you've known grief. Not that I know grief. I certainly don't. I have everything one can ask for- family, friends who love me, blue skies, bright stars. I just like thinking that my soul knows something that I do not, and has its own escapade through one of my wild mood swings. Maybe mood swings are actually caused due to that- as Freud would put it, your unconscious trying to break through the barriers placed by your conscious, to express itself. Maybe.
I don't know the reason, or the cause. I just know that I am depressed. And I know that I am going to change into my most comfortable pyjamas, play And So It Goes on my iPod and read Omar Khayyam. And hope that it'll cure me. I am not going to try and explain my mood. Sadly, words aren't enough at times.
'My silence is my self defence.'

Random- But is it really?

I usually do not write.
At least, not in public. I lack the general security and confidence. But I do need to test my skills somewhere. Somewhere where people can not laugh at my face if I do suck. What better place than this? So finally, after all these years, as of 1.18 a.m, 4th March 2009, I am a finally a blogger.
Now, I will (or rather, I hope I will) think of this as a medium between me and myself, from here to beyond. A place to think, a place to express, a place to realize.
'Of House Elves and Children's tales, of love, loyalty and innocence' is one of my favourite phrases from Harry Potter. I trust in the belief that names have power. Unbeknown and unexplained. Maybe they are better left that way. But names do have powers. And coincidences do not happen. The world was created for a reason, people. And while random things can and do exist, even they do have some hidden and uncomprehensible meaning. Karma exists and she is a bitch. And no matter what you say, I have learnt more from Calvin and Hobbes and Harry Potter than I have learnt from my 13 years of schooling and studies.
Just a collection of my random thoughts- one glimpse into the thoughts that run in my mind an hour before I drift away to the sweet and mystic land of sleep and dreams. They do look random, but in real- are they?