A Sky full of Stars.

So the second I read about NaPoWriMo prompt 2- Stars, Coldplay’s A sky full of stars started playing in my head. Very Loudly, might I add. The title of this post could be no other.

There’s a beautiful, relatively unknown spot about 2 hours drive from my city. I used to go stargazing there as a child. It remains, to date, one of my favourite memories and it the inspiration for this poem

A Sky full of Stars.

There’s this picture in my head, you see,

Of a tiny plateau,in a region hilly.

And when you stand at the edge of that, dearie,

You’re as alone as alone can be.

And then you look up at a glittering sky,

Wonder at the tales of years gone by.

And as untrue as some of them may be,

The stars are real and so are we.

Nothing much to see, but everything you want to be.

Strong and fiery yet tempered grace.

With hidden facets yet an open embrace.

I’ve never felt smaller.

Or positively Faulkner.

Here is where I belong.

Away from the noise, away from the crowd,

There’s no one here to talk of,

Just a soul on the ground and the sky above

Lying on the hood of this old jeep,

It’s just me,and my thoughts are the company I keep.

Thoughts of dreams and hopes and love and lies.

Thoughts to fill a Sky full of stars.

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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.

The Daily Post:Transporter.

Write about a sensation that takes you back to childhood.
Aha! Another excellent daily prompt.

image

Extra Strong Teleporter Mints!

Look here,my lovelies!
Extra.
Strong.
Mints.
Gah! Need I say more.

My grandfather used to get these for me all the time from a small place,selling sweets like this and hard-boiled colourful candies,near where he used to work in the times when Mumbai was still Bombay.
They’re amazing! One piece of candy and you’ll still be tasting it 3 hours later.
With the times..it slowly became more difficult to find these anywhere..all you’d see is tic-tac and other such assortments. No one wants unlabeled,unbranded stuff like this.
And they’ll never know what they’re missing.
I travel from the Dadar area to Victoria Terminus-which is some 20-25 mins by a Mumbai local train,then walk down to Colaba for another 15 mins just to get these from a small street vendor there.
They remind of when I’d search my grandfather’s pockets as soon as he came home to get some treat I just knew he’d gotten just for me.
They make me happy. And they taste damn good.

Laugh Uncontrollably.

So moving on from the slightly dramatic turn these posts seem to have taken,Today we talk about the very epitome of happiness. Laughter.

Ask anyone I know and the first thing they’ll tell you about me is I cry when I laugh. I kid you not,it actually happens. I’m laughing and next thing you know there’s tears running down my cheeks.

The sound of laughter is something that turns heads even more than that pretty girl walking down the street. All of my best memories involve laughing so much your stomach hurts and you’re gasping for breath. I love those moments,almost as much as I love chocolate.

I especially remember those days when I’d simply refuse to go  back to attending lectures after lunch,convince my friends to do the same and we’d sit under the arches in college ,drinking Iced tea and laughing so much about the stupidest things.

You know those moments late at night when you’re tired and sleepy and everything’s hilarious beyond compare?  I love those moments as well.

They comfort me on days where the dreary,grey sky tries to bring you down.
On days that I pretty much hate everything and everyone for no apparent reason.
And on days when you live in the past,wishing you could have some bit of it again.

But it does not do to dwell on the past and forget how to live.

I’m pretty sure Dumbledore knew what he was talking about.

So Live.Laugh.Love the things that make you happy.
Laugh enough that people think you’re certifiably insane.
Laugh uncontrollably with that one who puts a ridiculously wide smile on your face.
Laugh with your friends. You’ll miss those stupid fools more than you ever thought you would.

*********
Part 6 of the ‘ life is short’ series.