when its not important to grow up.....

sometimes its just okay to be little again... immature, impulsive, unmannered......

laughing out loud whenever i really want to, breaking into song at the drop of a hat, saying lets go to the first idea that comes to my head.... there was a time i was this person... i was wild noisy company, unabashedly drinking from life like it was a high.... :) i loved that me....

enter responsibility, the "appropriate age" to have a goal, pressure to "get serious" and other stuff like that....

i did just that, got serious, buried my impulses, laughed in moderation... they said to be someone i would have to be serious and focussed.... i didnt know i'd lose myself to form this "identity"

i never knew what i felt anymore, it was trapped somewhere between reason and rhyme... even borrowed logic that i'm not supposed to feel such n such in such n such circumstances....
i was only one mosaic, a piece of modern art, that people find appealing, but it cannot be defined... it confirms to the interpretation of any veiwer who looks upon it...



then i looked into myself one day.


its was like visiting a place of the past that gave u comfort, a sepia toned era of warmth and ease.... i took a nose dive.... and there i was... me again :)



often i think about the futility of growing up... must we really?

i feel life doesn't get harder as we grow up, we choose to make it hard for us unconsciously...
people expect us to be different people suddenly and we accept those new different people as skins we have to grow into...

grown ups say no a bit too often for their own comfort... for youngsters there are 7 options between a yes and a no that they consider before "chucking it". i feel life deserves the latter kind of treatment.....

for the people who dont agree with me, i'm sure you are intelligent people... living everyday like it should be.... i'm only among those who want to live upto life rather than have life live upto me.... :)

cheers :)

we, the fortunate

today, once again, i found myself not convinced that i must give a beggar a coin. like countless other days, innumerable other instances that haven't found themselves important enough to linger on in my memory.
but today i thought, why am i judging the need of another man! who am i really, to gauge the depths of his misery?
to decide that he doesn't deserve that coin? whereas if he were a little more deprived i'd have given it to him.

its quite unfair on my part to go around laying my verdict on these people who obviously, besides their poverty, suffer the humiliation at all times to have to stretch their arms before unfeeling souls. the excuse i often give myself is that the man is strong enough to work. or that i have more important things to do rather than stop and open my purse.... i could be the better person if i only do that bit, but i forgo the chance, and choose only to be myself.

is myself good enough? its not even an exhibition of generosity to give alms to a beggar. kahlil gibran very aptly said "it is unfair that i own gold and i give you silver and deem myself generous" i wrote this post as a reminder of a valuable step i've taken closer to being just. justice, respect, acceptance, are what should be our basic and honoured birthrights. yet, it is sought in this world of billions.....

all the good things in life

It's the times we're so crazy,
that people think we're high.
It's the times we laugh so hard,
we can't help but cry.
It's all the inside jokes
and "remember whens".
those are all the reasons
that we're best friends!

Our inside jokes-too many to name.
When we're apart it's never the same.
When we're together it's nothing but fun.
Replacing my girls just can't be done.
As the years pass, and we grow apart.
I want you to know, that you guys are in my heart.

You helped me through problems,
through things good and bad.
You helped me keep smiling :-),
when I was sad.
You helped me with guys,
you made me stay strong.
How will I live, when you guys are gone?

And where the years take us,
no place is too far.
We will think of each other,
wherever we are.
You're wonderful people,
with good hearts to lend.
And I want you to know,
that you'll always be my Best Friends

change.....

every day is a new piece of time to spend...

every person is a new world to be lived in...

every thought is a new direction in the making...

every second takes us into a new irreversible frame of time...

everything around us is because it changes....

why make such a big deal out of change? if a person around us changes why make it an accusation? with the innumerable variables affecting our lives, we do change... into better or worse people, never knowing where the changes started.

the next time you want to tell another person he or she has changed, think a while if its worth it. the way you say it may hurt that somebody, and things might never be the same again...

heathcliff

catherine about heathcliff............

he shall never know how I love him: and that, not because he's handsome, but because he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same

My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff's miseries, and I watched and felt each from the beginning: my great thought in living is himself. If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it

My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary. I am Heathcliff! He's always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being. So don't talk of our separation again


heathcliff about catherine........

I saw they were full of stupid admiration; she is so immeasurably superior to them--to everybody on earth, is she not?

You teach me now how cruel you've been--cruel and false. Why did you despise me? Why did you betray your own heart, Cathy? I have not one word of comfort. You deserve this. You have killed yourself. Yes, you may kiss me, and cry; and ring out my kisses and tears: they'll blight you--they'll damn you. You loved me--then what right had you to leave me? What right--answer me--for the poor fancy you felt for Linton? Because misery and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of your own will, did it. I have not broken your heart--you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine. So much the worse for me, that I am strong. Do I want to live? What kind of living will it be when you--oh, God! would you like to live with your soul in the grave?'

He endeavoured to pronounce the name, but could not manage it; and compressing his mouth he held a silent combat with his inward agony, defying, meanwhile, my sympathy with an unflinching ferocious stare. `How did she die?' he resumed at last--fain, notwithstanding his hardihood, to have a support behind him; for, after the struggle, he trembled, in spite of himself, to his very finger-ends.

And I pray one prayer--I repeat it till my tongue stiffens--Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living! You said I killed you--haunt me, then! The murdered do haunt their murderers, I believe. I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always--take any form--drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!


heathcliff and catherine, when death did them apart....

I was going to the Grange one evening--a dark evening, threatening thunder--and, just at the turn of the Heights, I encountered a little boy with a sheep and two lambs before him; he was crying terribly; and I supposed the lambs were skittish, and would not be guided.
"What's the matter, my little man?' I asked.
`There's Heathcliff and a woman, yonder, under t' nab,' he blubbered, `un' I darnut pass `em.'