A Peter Pan's gone...

Circa: 2009, July 08

Micheal Jackson is dead. The king of pop died on 25 June 2009 and it feels like yesterday; everyday the news has something about him. Yesterday was his memorial service in USA. I coudn't watch it on TV because of power cut here in Delhi.

Peter Pan is gone to his Neverland, atlast. May he rest in peace...

Sepia fading to Black & White

Torn and weathered edges of the old photo once shot in monochromes- B & W turned sepia over the years. The half faded picture with old/odd characters documents a history and narrates a story but the piece of paper itself has a lot more to tell… crisscross lines runs on most of the photo deciding their own fate like the lines on our palm…

The warm undertone of orange and yellow has such a desirable effect on us; evoking strong feelings- The deep shades of black and contrasts of white imprints on our memory.
The paper has an emotional effect one me which often takes me down memory lane. Old photos tattering on the edges, once Black & White but turned yellow over the years, outlines and faces on the photo fading by the years, which when held in hand often creates a magic, a feeling so powerful that it often amazes me.

I like to look at my mother’s old albums and our childhood photos and reflect on bygone memories from the past which are so warm and comforting. Most pictorial depictions on print and television media of bygones are depicted in sepias only for the sheer magic it possess in moving human hearts.

I wonder whether the digital photos of today shot with digital cameras, mobile phones, web cams, etc with its rich and deep colours still play on our minds in the future and leave any imprint on the coming generations….

Peter Pan suffering from quarter life crisis!

The other day my friend Pops and I were discussing about quarter life crisis. We both are now in the most crucial point of our life: a crossroad which will lead us to our paths henceforth. This tentative period is exciting but also brings in great confusions and unrests.
November and December brought a transient bout of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) syndrome in me. It’s when the falling of the first autumn leaf makes me sad, setting of the sun brings about a feeling of doom and when the quiver of the violin breaks my heart and not to mention watching a Korean tragic drama on those lonely- foggy- wintry- cold- grey days which makes me reach for another pack of tissues. I am not exaggerating.
Seasonal Affective Disorder is when one feel depressed with the changing of weather/ season especially during the winters when it gets cold and dark during the day and not enough sunlight. Unfortunately we women happen to get affected by it more than men. Women are moody people and to think of it even men are, so basically we human beings are moody people.
These days I am at my serene best.
Coming back to quarter life crisis, my problem is deep. Unlike most people I happen to have Peter Pan Syndrome, it’s when a person doesn’t want to grow up. The term ‘Peter Pan Syndrome’ was termed by Dr. Dan Kiley after the character Peter Pan ‘the boy who wouldn’t grow up’ from JM Barrie’s story Peter Pan.
In my opinion, Peter Pan Syndrome is more hypothetical than other psychological syndromes; it has no fixed definitions or symptoms unlike other psychological syndromes.
As for me, I just don’t like the diasporas of getting older and acting in different manner and doing things that grown ups do. The comfort of the childhood is too hard to give up!
Reading this some may quickly jump to conclusion thinking that I may be childish, immature and shun responsibilities but oddly I don’t. I am responsible and quite capable but yes I am a great procrastinator. See, I want to even procrastinate getting older!
I have a lot of baggage and at this age and time I have a lot many things to consider. It’s an irony because I have two extreme situations, one is quarter life where I have huge responsibilities towards myself and my family in terms of career and personal growth and on the other side I just want to cuddle up and suckle a lollypop*!
*Just a figure of speech, I prefer chocolates to lollypops any day. ^___^

A torn page from Grimm brothers' book

At the far corner of the garden,
Among the high hedges of bougainvillea,
There is a tiny clearing where I ensconce.

There lies a stool and table of white marble,
Shaded by a lone apple tree,
Looks like a picture from “Homes and garden”.

The place smell of lilacs and lavenders,
Tiny creatures abuzz the area nonchalantly,
You might mistake them for fairies!

Enchanted and often lost in random thoughts,
I pluck grasses with my feet and,
Try catching escaping rays from the tree.

In a place like this the imagination comes alive,
Pen and pad keeps my pace here and,
A torn page from Grimm brother’s book.

(A childish poem that felt like jotting down (*.*)

☺Joke- My mother and the closet☺

Good afternoon~
Yesterday evening my mother and my second Sister-in-law were watching “Saas-Bahu” serial (Hindi family drama) and when I walked in to join them the power went off. My mother urgently wanted to go to toilet so she waded into the dark, opened the closet door and walked in. She was very confused as she was pushing the shelves and demanding why the door is blocked! The very moment power returned and we caught her standing inside the closet, to say we caught her in her own drama! Hehehe…

☺

Monologue: eureka moments (diary of self)

I am 20+yrs (still not telling my age) old girl (lady). I am in my prime, I mean I am now old enough to fend for myself, find a job, live on my own, be independent, find a boyfriend or a husband, have kids, blah…blah… Sometimes I find my own self amusing; still single and living with my parents with an uncertain college degree and an equally uncertain future. Time like this comes when I start thinking about my life in general and regret most of the time. I realise my past were moments of mediocrity when I could have tried harder.
I am not a richer person by past experiences; I still fault a lot and am a bitter person most of the time because of it. I’ve got multiple ghosts to fight almost everyday leaving me tired and weary. All I need is a little push to walk the extra mile, thanks to my preconditioned mind and body. It is hard to break the mould and evolve into something I only dream of. This makes me realise that I could be the laziest person on this planet! Is this a Eureka moment? I guess so, but an unpleasant one. It feels worse to realise that one is not as good as one imagines the self to be. Ego is a fragile thing.

Arcadia (utopia)

I close my eyes and hum a tune fixed on my mind
I am taken to place where I imagine to be
Wide open meadow, high grass, sun, wind and the smell of fresh grass
I sway past the towering grasses, catching few dry leaves in my dress
The wind combs my hair in all direction as though playing with it
I feel beautiful, young and free
Wish I could live here forever
Run wild and free among the tall grasses and never stop
I smile looking up at the sky; the sun feels so smooth on my face
Symphonies of nature playing its vibrant colours
My fingers strum the grass and music is made
If I die now and reborn in a place like this, I wish I would then...

On forgetting...

Today my mother said something which left me thinking until now. She said it’s good that we forget; forgetting is a very valuable remedy of living which we tend to overlook. In her exact words she said something like, “we have incidences and they become memories and with passing of time we tend to forget them. If we never forgot it would have been difficult to live because the sad and unhappy memories would make life impossible to carry on. I could move on with my life after my grandmother passed away because her memories have faded over the time but if the memories were still fresh I might have died too”. Saying this she looked unhappy…

Memories are vague reminisces of the past but they do still touch our heart, be it good memories or unhappy ones. We are product of our past; today we are because of our past experiences (actions). Our personality and outlook is shaped by our past experience. But it is also good that we have the unique power of forgetting which most of don’t realise. We blame ourselves when we forget but just think otherwise, what if we never forgot? What if the memories were still fresh in our mind of our past trauma, despair, sadness, bad incidences, lost of someone dear, our first love, etc? The world would have been full of manic depressive people and not a cheerful soul!

Forgetting is a beautiful gift as remembering...