Me and my imagination

I am presently reading the book “Anne of Green Gables” and fell in love with it. For the first time in my life, I felt having an imagination was not a bad thing at all. I found myself relating to Anne so much except for one thing – I dont talk one by millionth of what she does. I believe the author herself must have been quite imaginative or she couldnt write about Anne so well. People with an imagination can be so helplessly lost in their thoughts and imaginations and I could very well see how Anne could not be blamed for making all the mistakes she does. Mistakes and imagination go hand in hand thats for sure!

I remembered all the wild imaginations I let myself have even as a little kid. As a child of 6 or 7 I used to imagine we had a bad case of monster attack in our family and it is actually a monster who took the appearance of my mother and that my real mother was hidden somewhere underground in a den. After a few days of imagining this, I actually began to believe it and remind myself this was not the real Mother so I should be careful. Not that I loved her any little but well when you are a little child it is easy to believe in things than when you are a grown up. This was my biggest secret and I never repeated it before now. But reading the book has brought back all those memories now.

As I grew older I used to read the Archie Comics a lot and imagined the whole Riverdale city was on the backside of my bed and in the nights I imagined going there in reduced size(to fit the lower part of my bed) as a new student.

When I felt sleepless in nights, I’d happily tell myself I have a whole lot of time to imagine things. No wonder I sleep so much later in the night after going to bed. There was something or the other every night. Sometimes its about a boy like Harry Potter (who came into existence long before the actual Harry Potter and hence was not magical) who was either adopted or had a Father who hated him cause his Mother died when he was born. I dont know why I always made it that way! Its like trying to get sympathy. I must admit I have a really bad case of wanting sympathy cause sometiumes I imagine I get Brain Tumor and everyone I knew would come to visit me and tell me nice things about me – this was after I realised imagining my ghost coming back after death to hear the good things said about me was too far fetched.

Romance played a part too now and then. There would be someone in this world somewhere who looked at the Moon same time I did or listened to the same song as me with the same feelings and thoughts and smile on face. And one day we’d cross paths with each other and immediately recognise our bonding and meant-to-be-togetherness.

And sometimes it is my marriage – I would be dressed in a big white gown like Maria was in The Sound of Music and my fellow would wait for me at the end of the aisle admiring me with a beautiful smile on his face-  somehow I couldnt get myself to imagine me in Sari with all the ornaments – it takes away all the goodness out of it. Sigh I wish I dont sound too unpatriotic when I say that but there is no harm in admiring good things whichever country it originated in is there now?

And when I realise I am totally unfit for marriage and what a drag it might be after the actual day when I wear the white gown, I become more realistic. So then I imagine myself becoming a writer like I always wanted to be and making a living out of it and adopting a 2 year old girl who I’d name Vinnie and both of us having a marvelous time together – we’d do just everything together!

Oh well… its just a handful of things… actually its millions of handfuls!  But well it is really not your fault that you go and get lost in your imagination. I wish people understood that. Cause I dont think these things up for the sake of thinking them up (unless it is to be realistic and I have to think of what to do in future – and so I think of Vinnie). I just slip into these thoughts and live some moments there, tell my lines and hear the imagined/real characters tell theirs in my mind before a lot of time passes by and I bring myself back to the real world with a lot of effort.

Oh well (think I already said that), reading about Anne Shirley was a nice thing – cause everyone likes Anne despite her wild imaginations. So maybe there are chances that people might actually like me despite being such a weirdo.

Things I want to do now!

I want to play notes on the piano like a mad man (or woman?)
That makes no sense, has no meaning
And yet seem sweet to everyone who hears it

I want to throw the cup I see in front of me 100 miles away
And it shouldnt break cause I will have to answer people

I want to jump up and down 16 times as high as I could
And noone should feel its anything unusual

I want to scream out loud, give voice to my boiled up feelings
And people should mind their business without stopping to take a look at me

I want to pull my hair and leave it uncombed
And there should not be a brow raised against me

I want to cry out loudly, give out amplified cries
And noone should hear a thing

Sigh but I do not live in a deaf world
The people here are not blind or dumb
But its good to imagine they are
While I do all these things

Or maybe I should just wait a little
And calm down
That seems easier than making a whole world deaf,blind and dumb
 

Out of Syllabus – the movie

Seems like I am becoming a daily blogger.

I have decided to keep the blog for personal entries alone for a while. No more short stories here for some time.

So today, I am here cause I saw this Mallu movie “Out of Syllabus” on TV. I had watched it when it was released. If you take the count of all the people who watched the movie, it wouldnt cross 20. And out of the 20, I dont know how many people actually liked it. But I did.

My old school mate had acted in it was the reason why I saw it in the first place.
But there was a calmness about the movie that I liked. Mallu movies and most other Indian movies when they show campus life has this idea of loudness and…  and something, well lets just say “overdone” thats makes it all so artificial. This movie too had music, it had the students talk and dress the way kids actually do in Kerala these days. But something in it was calm, was real that I liked about the movie. Campus doesnt mean oversmart girls and guys pulling each others legs and singinig stupid songs together and making a lot of fuss. It is where you connect to people who may stay a part of your life or memory forever.

The classrooms and the hostels, the canteens, the grounds, the trees, everything around it matters. When the last day is over and you look at all these places and see them completely deserted you feel a deep pain somewhere inside you – thats what later becomes nostalgia. Thats what makes it so important. When you walk through those paths or think of them later, even the small things throw a deep feeling. A stone you used to kick at, a tree you used to rest your head on, the steps you used to sit on… every little thing seems to call you back to those days.

And thats why I liked the movie too. It was all too real. And in the last scene, when the hero walks alone through all those paths and classrooms which used to be crowded with kids, you feel the stabs of separation all through your skin. I did.

Guess I am losing my humour bone here. I could sometimes be a sentimental weirdo 😉

In the beach

It’s been years since I last went to the beach. The first and foremost thing I like to do in a beach is to get as wet as possible though mostly dipping my legs is as far as I was let to. As a kid I wasn’t allowed to stray away from my Mom’s hands or go anywhere beyond the wave-feet scrubbing level. As I grew up I tried acting deaf when Mom would call from behind to come back.

Today, a friend of mine and I stood for some time against the waves while Mom kept calling us back. As each wave came and touched me and then went away, there was this feeling of ecstasy – if you keep looking at the retreating wave, you’d feel you are moving with it; that you are going to the big mass of water with it. I imagine each wave has a meaning. There are 3 kinds – one which just misses your feet, one which gives a slight rub and one which washes you upside down. The one which just misses you are souls or people who were very close to becoming a part of your life and you somehow missed it – maybe you missed a bus that person and you were going to meet in and be lifetime friends. Then the one which rubs your legs and goes away are those people or souls who had come to be a part of your life for a short while and went away too fast – with or without leaving back a memory. I’d like to imagine it’s after leaving a memory, ‘cause that’s why it touches you – touch your heart you know though literally speaking its your leg. And the final kind, as obvious its people or souls who are all over you – cover you with their love or care or bonding or even hatred and soak you with it.

It was nice imagining all that while I watched the water moving and the sand covering my feet. Infact you could further go on and say that it’s with those second category people who go away from your life too fast that you feel you are taken away too – maybe it’s the pain of seeing them go away.

We went back and walked a little in the sand and then sat down. It was getting dark. The sky was clear – there was a jet plane very far away and the shining star-like things children threw up (I have no idea what that thing is but it looked cool). My friend happened to be this amazing singer. So when we were fairly far from others, we made her sing and hum songs. It was awesome! Sitting there in that sand beach, watching the sky, smelling the sea, hearing the waves, feeling the wind and dreaming in music… Her voice was flowing in the wind. What a beautiful evening it was turning out to be. Those few moments I knew what heaven would be like if there was to be a heaven… I guess heaven is when you feel this happy – it is not where you are. Wherever you are, if you could get yourself to forget things and think and feel this happy you have landed yourself in heaven.

The dinner afterwards and the journey back were not that thrilling; though meeting a friend and family and holding his 2-year old kid added few moments to my book of happy-moments-in-Cris’s-life.

It was a nice day. It was a nice Saturday.  

My Best Friend’s Wedding

 

No I am not “Jools” trying to wreck Michael’s wedding. Here the characters are more than 3. The main character has gotta be the genius author Ms Cris. The marrying couple Ms Rose and Mr Hattio. And then we have got Ros’s and my bro Mr V.

Somewhere in June 1993, Ms Cris met Ms Ros. And 12 years later Ms Cris met Mr Hattio. Ms Cris had to go and meet these people ’cause she was fate dressed as human. Or better, Cupid dressed as human. Only I didnt have ’em arrows loaded with me, so I went for internet. Pling, I sent an arrow to California and pling, I sent another to Cochin. And pling-pling a marriage happened 3 days ago!

It was one of the biggest days of my life. And in less than a day, when I saw Ms Ros again, “married” was written all over her face. I dont know how that happens. Married ladies somehow give out this color or feeling or whatever you call it and you tell yourself “now that girl, shes married”. If men knew the art of sensing this, they could avoid hitting on married ladies and try their luck somewhere else. But then it cant be taught; its a gift!

Seeing my 2 and a half year old friend Mr Hattio for the first time was something too (misguiding? Clarifying, he is older than 2 n a half though he looks that). The day that boy met me, he had his lucky cap on I am sure and now he has got the prettiest wife evah!

Its just a lot of feelings mixed together! And everything was over too fast! I know you shouldnt expect a marriage to last 20 days but well when you have planned so much for a big day with lotsa people and suddenly everything is over and everyone is packing their bags, you feel a kind of sorrow in the air. I am sure if Mr V was here, he’d raise his eyebrows and plaster my mouth. The poor boy was a wreck but I knew he was happy every second. Hey its his big sis’s big day!

The only trouble when you attend a best friend’s wedding in India is, people have but one thing to ask you and its not Whats-the-time. It is the 4 most scary words –

1) So 2) when 3) is 4) yours

A smile is the best reply I know so far and that doesnt seem to satisfy the questioners. So they keep asking and I keep smiling.

As for Ros, I imagine she is flying right now. Though literally she could be, I meant in the sky. As she stood in that pink Sari with shining ornaments, I saw that gravity stood no chance as the stars pulled her up to stay with them and she all wieghtless floated around with Hattio right next to her 🙂

Finally here in wordpress!

First entries are always hard to make! I have typed and erased a number of times already

I have moved from blogger to wordpress and moved all my entries from blogger.

But too curious to check out what this is going to look like, I am making it short! I will be around! And will be coming back pretty soon!