Of veins and heartbeats.

If you want to be happy,

Be.

If you wanna be with someone,

Be.

Too little in this world is real,

Can’t you see?

Too long you’ve taken to heal,

Go, be free.

Kohl-lined eyes, Lips painted red,

Stereotypical vanity,

On the edge of a dangerous affair,

A clear surface, A turbulent sea.

Fiery veins, pounding heartbeats,

In the search of Normality,

the winds have changed and so have we,

If you want to be happy, won’t you be?

Ernest Hemingway once said, ‘Poor Faulkner, does he really think that big emotions come from big words?’

Sometimes our little words are best we can find. They are true-er than true.

NaPoWriMo-Day 4– A poem on the opposite of love.

*Photo copyrighted, leave it be.

A Love-Hate Story.

“The sun shines hot and the wind blows cold.
It is Summer in the Light and Winter in the Shade.”
-Great Expectations.

Five Months Later,almost to the day,it’s finally over.
Completely,absolutely,irreversibly.
A Real Life Experience.whether good or bad depends on my mood when you ask me. But I’m pretty sure I’m going to miss it.
I have spent these five months,training at the Taj Mahal Palace,Mumbai. It’s a mandated semester of training as part of my graduation course, and quite honestly, an eye-opener.
It was different than anything I’ve ever done before. More taxing,more demanding,more challenging. Just More.
What can I say? What else would you expect from an undergrad student,interning at a five-star flagship property?

Life became a flurry of getting to work on time,getting home late more often than not, shifts,uniforms,guest satisfaction scores,hotel occupancy,banquet events and so much more.Things that had never crossed my mind. Days became work days and off days. Holidays became extra working hours. Weekends were synonymous with non-existence. But the friends I made there? They became family.

You don’t go into something like this expecting what will happen. Sure, you can guess. And ofcourse your seniors will tell you all about it. But nothing will even come close to preparing you. And you will never be able to explain the true ferocity of it. I suppose it’s just one of those things where those who’ve been there don’t need these words and those who haven’t..well, they’re probably convinced that I’m full of rubbish.

Yet, I feel so naive writing these words. Every one with a job understands what I’m saying. The long hours, the stress, the pressure, Mrs. Bennett’s nerves would have been shredded to pieces by the lack of compassion. The arguments, and the storming out, the fights and giving up on things because ‘you can’t deal with it right now.’

Adjusting to this new life you’ve been thrown into head-first is hard. There is just so much that you thought you had more time to figure out. And suddenly here you are, on a test-run of being an adult, and now you know why ‘Because.’ is a perfectly reasonable answer to any question.

It’s been barely a week since internship ended. And already I’m wallowing in nostalgia. Something I was sure wouldn’t happen.Real Life seems tough. I didn’t think I’d miss it. But I do.
I miss the hurry,the rush, the noise,the people. It was a familiar confusion, because for these few months ,it was all I knew. My world had reduced to The Taj, and getting there and back. Adjustment was not very kind. But once you know where you stand in the scheme of things, and you know the people and you’ve found your place with a few of them, I think it just all kinda falls into place.

I have met some wonderful people there. Both trainees and people who inspire me. I think it’s left me more capable and aware and appreciative,actually, of everything I thought was mine.

I read A Dairy of Colours recently.
This whole experience? Well, it started out a glossy bright green, which slowly became pale. It faded and for a awhile, it went black. Somehow, somewhere a change began within, and from the black burst forth a shower of purple. It covered everything in sight, the purple collapsed and all that was left, was a tempered midnight blue. It’s just like that.
Maybe I’ll share these colours with you,but for now I must leave. Because five months later, today I have absolutely nothing to do, and I’m going to enjoy it.

For now, I’m happy I get to be a little irresponsible again.

Petrichor And Coffee.

It’s that time of the year again.
Alive. You breathe deeply,
Life filling your lungs.
The Rain falls,
washing away the dust of everyday life.
Your life’s changing around you,
take a moment to look.
From your place above,
sitting on the water tanks,
you could touch the sky.
Far below,the mundane sounds of existence cease.
It’s cold now,
The North wind that demands change blowing,
I’ve missed it so.
Quiet moments of serenity beckon,
As does the scent of coffee freshly brewed,
lingering in the air,persistant.Demanding.
Back on the ground,the little blue light blinks.
One new message.
Miles apart,someone knows.
What it feels like,when you scream in enthrallment at the lightning.
When you shiver,drenched to the bone.Ecsastic and Free.
‘Change’, the North Wind whispered,
lifting my hair,blowing all around me.
Until I promised I would,
and then I smiled.
For it had already begun.
I had a new friend.

The variable constant.

It is a commonly known fact that change is a part of life .The acceptance of this fact, however,seems to elude many. As a sign of respect for Jane Austen,the author who inspires me and has been the reason for my love of the Renaissance era,I wish to combine my attempt to imitate her writing style with a subject I believe deserves such eloquence,an unavoidable, variable part of life-Change.

The beginning of change,subsequent chaos and eventual acceptance can be a difficult journey. In the past month, I have witnessed both,an acceptance and utter rejection of this volatile factor. They made lasting impressions on me,dear reader,for you must surely know of the travesty of which I speak.
It was a moment of realization for me. An eye-opener. For while I came to the realization that my happiness depends on my perspective,I wondered if this very happiness was merely a result of compromise. It is like the difference between a classic and a modern day novel. My passion for all things historical and literary is out of place in this new world. But I chose the pursuit of the culinary arts over that of literature and languages,for I dream of a career as a Pastry chef and it is towards this end that I must work.

In retrospect,I realize that I am painting a rather bleak picture of my surroundings. This,however,is not really the case. As I spend more time with these new acquaintances,I realize that I am on a new journey,one that I am now determined to enjoy,while retaining my sense of self, my close friends and my passion for literature and photography. For the pursuit of one art need not mean the complete lack or pursuing any other.

xxxxxx
I hope I could do justice to both, the subject and the writing style.
I recently joined IHM,Mumbai to pursue my degree in Hotel Management and this has been an expression of how I felt while adjusting to a completely new environment as compared to my previous educational institution, St.Xaviers College,Mumbai,where I studied for a duration of two years. ( junior college/grade 11 and 12)