Four letter words...

On a flight, just watched a movie and I will be hammered for recommending it to anyone I know, for sure. Its impression is dark and depressing and lugubrious and dismal. I love it. Do I love the movie or is it the theme that I’m captured by. I’m even embarrassed to say it aloud.

Louuuu...

The story is set around a couple who bump into each other a few times at different places on the same evening and the little interlude of that night which they spend together, not on a physical realm but yeah ‘little death’ did visit eventually.

It’s set in Portugal and at one point the woman says, ‘I was sick for a few years’ and  he asks her, ‘how’ and she says, ‘I was crazy’ and he looks at her with his incredible saucer eyes and says, ‘who says you aren’t now’.

Cry came…. Aiyyoooooo…. Wino and Bloody Mary… never the twain shall meet in my ventriculus no more, methinks.

I guess the world is torn between figuring out what really matters, like all of us are, me me first first!

What should this life mean… what means triumph, definition of loss. Who means what. What means who. Where should be the focus. What means success. Happiness, Happyness. Unhappiness equals to failure. Failure equals to doomsday, apocalypse. Wasteland…

Sheeee!!!! Not me!!??!! Hello, me Hip, Happening, Cool, Successful, I’m too sexy for my shit types….

Why are we embarrassed to avow that love elevates us or annihilates us. And why is it a bad word? Hello! I consider myself this little ninny from a one horse town and whenever I examine my thinking I’m like, ‘you peasant, whaddya know about what really matters? And what this love, up yours shove’ and in slow motion the tail which was upright slowwwwly cows down and sinuously langorously makes it way between the legs…. Ahem! Me likes the allegory (hic!)

(good sense will ask me to edit this post when the wino mary have exited via the bladder… but steadfast I shall hold the balderdash)

Where was I? some more cry came… there’s this older couple next to me and he just belted out, “are you lonesome tonight” and she held his hand and shoo’d him…. What a cute… he looked at me with such perplexity and embarrassment and hid his face in his blanket to slowly surface a few seconds later and point at his headphones and the screen, he’s listening to Elvis!

Ah ok… back to the four letter word… I’d lay all my unworthy, unimportant, ungainly ‘successes’ for the glory of that one, four letter word.

F or L??? sometimes simply confuse happens!!! hic :D

Were thee?

Watching the movie Kaabil and I’m pondering about the theme song, ‘mein tere kaabil hoon yaan tere kaabil nahi’ and the rationalist (ok… sometimes I am) in me wants to barf. But the chardonnay I’m indulging in, is exquisite. I refuse to estrange it from my gut. Back to the ad hoc question ‘am I worthy of you or not?’

Although it is one of my all-time favorite songs, ‘aapki nazron ne samjha pyar ke kaabil mujhe’, it rankles the cerebellum. I guess our psyche is influenced by this non sequitur that if we are indeed loved, we question the ardor by inspecting our worthiness (sic!)

Paradoxically is the object of our affections worthy of receiving the ‘gift’ of our amour.  If love was based one’s worthiness, wouldn’t it be a purely business transaction? Isn’t love supposed to be a despite of, inspite of, smite?

So if you’re supposed to strive to make yourself worthy of being loved and you are indeed the recipient of this ‘wonderful’ gift, is it a hollow victory, a shallow trophy of a callow personage? Or should you do the Tarzan-beat-his-breast-whoop and celebrate your ability to have been able to evoke this noble emotion.

What means this worthy? I’m fascinated by women who walk the cosmetic surgery path to snare a catch like desperate fisher folk, of men pumping iron for ‘ceps that will be irresistible. Of the education, job, collateral we hoard as bait, of the tangled web of deceit we weave when first we practice to deceive- Walter Scott (I can’t be expected to come up with original thought at this hour, creative juices diluted by the inebriant, hic!)

Is it societal pressure that encourages us to believe that our worthiness has to be an external feature over the internal. You will be forgiven for thinking that it’s my inherent laziness that preempts this apathy for action makes me disavow the striving to embellish one self.

By all means we should, but let it be that we spruce up our intellect, empathy, thinking, vision, values and behavior, dwell on the visceral rather than the extraneous.

The idealist in me champions that, we will allure a love that sees beyond the frills and the masks, above the drama and tomfoolery, rises over the commercial and expected to espy the grandeur of our souls and cherish it.

If you do not, can not, will not… fret not… who you are, is not for naught. You are enough unto yourself. Keep the faith. What’s meant to be… will find a way. 

If it does not, it never was worthy of you.

Close... err?

Whether while crafting a speech or an essay, the standard format is Introduction, Body, Conclusion and it has always been stressed that the Body deserves the best attention cos the meat of the message lies therein.

So also maybe in life I guess. What we did in childhood was a passing fancy and what we will be capable of in dotage will be forgiven (if we kick the bucket while on our feet). Our years in between are what we will be measured by.

Hmnnnn... not methinks. I like closures. Spectacular endings. Delicious culminations.

The heaviest burdens that pull us to the nadir are when the ending hasn't sated the soul. Like a book or movie that leaves you guessing. If your imagination is superlative you could concot a gratifying denouement. Good for you.

Yet there are moments... how do I ostend it copiously? Take this scenario. You've had the most intimate coupling in a darkened room that reverberates with muted sighs, mingled sweat, blended body fluids, shared whispers, incongruous giggles and delightful shudders.

You get it.

Now this - Nonchalantly you turn away without as much as a distortion of your facial muscles or minimal acknowledgement through touch or sonance. A mute obelisk like (yeah yeah. It's a fixation) transformation. Just killed it eh?

Endings... complete the circle. Raw edges chafe and abrade. Complete it then. From your sentences to your stories, even the path you walk or the goal you set.

Your measure is in the closure.