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The world is a perspective in between space and time and people and we see only what we want to see. While, to be found is a fate and to be loved is a satisfaction, our reality is consumed by everyone we know. From a stranger at the metro station to a close enemy we don’t wanna meet, whether we meet or not was never the point. Everybody still exists in the headspace because we breathe time as much as we breathe space. There is truth as long as there is false. Whats real is here. Whats not isn’t. Thoughts are just mere points of relativity and we are only tiny particles in the universe whose lives mean nothing to people we have never even met. So how many people have we not met? Maybe thats why we people like to make ourselves believe being famous is great. Greater the fame, the more people we meet and our lives start looking seemingly important to people. But, to whom ultimately? To all the people whom we still do not know. Then let alone people who says the more famous you become, the lonelier you grow. I guess it isn’t a total lie after all. Because our lives could mean something to them but theirs mean nothing to us. No people = no thoughts = no directions= no purpose. So what would serve as a purpose in life? To live? To earn money? To live an extraordinary life? Or to be happy? Whats real is here. Whats not isn’t. Thoughts are relative as much as the reality is. So let us create our lives. If we live on, partly in reality and partly in our dreams, escape when its needed and love when we have to. Grow old as we are going to, escape again as we should, into dreams. In dreams. With people we want to. With dogs, cats and humans. With men and mice, we wouldn’t end up becoming the bitter old man as we thought we would. Because we grow as we live and we live as we love. The world has enough space for everything and there are too many points of relativity.

How do we start?

Love life.

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To tell you the truth, my situation isn’t what I could describe well at my current state of mind. I shouldn’t even be writing this down, I think. Then I realize, nothing really makes a difference. Somebody might read it but they are going to forget it eventually, while I still get a moment of satisfaction for being a little expressive or more likely ‘loud’ for a change. Cheap thrills but nothing really makes a difference. So here is my situation. Basically, my situation since the last two years.

A day before my 22nd birthday, life took a minor turn. Father got unwell and I spend my 22nd birthday cutting cake with just one thought in my mind, how long will he survive? Then everything fell out of hand. My college went from bad to worse. I had no money to buy materials for my graduation project. Hospitals bills reached heaven. Bad times made me work, earn and live a living worth a lifetime experience. 9am-8pm became college hours. Sitting on sewing machines the whole day isn’t the kind of labor you fancy when you come back home to finish freelancing work from 9pm till the early dawn. 4hours sleep became my routine. Sleeping on the fabrics became a habit. At college, teachers would scold me for not following step-by-step orders. At home, mother wouldn’t stop crying. At college, close friends thought I was a thief. The reason behind the accusation? Because I was a quiet and I needed money. Careless people, you see. They think a step but never get to the second round of thinking. If I could steal, did I have to work extra hours to support myself? More likely, their brains never worked the way I wanted it to. Eventually they caught the thief but nothing was the same again. Bad to worse, dad got worse and I graduated with the lowest score. Got a job. Got a house. Left the house because my job didn’t pay me two months salary. Left the job. Searched for jobs. Unemployed for months. Lived on side projects. Blogged like a maniac to make myself busy. Mom never stopped crying. Dad never became better. Now, work is stable. Dad is spending his last days. He might not last more than few weeks from now. Everybody is home. I am sitting at the office. I am at the most crucial point of epic workload. I got three photoshoots in the coming next few weeks. Should I leave everything and go home and sit and cry? Or should I practically plan my next few months’ survival? Do I have enough time to sit and ponder over little memories? Or should I escape by overworking? Guilt could kill me for being such an bad daughter but guilt has no practicality of its own. In my head, nothing is right and nothing is wrong. In reality, I am not quite right. Time has its own limits. I am off-dimensional but hopeful. Maybe, all I need is a little bit of time. Maybe all I need is somebody directing me the best solution. Maybe, all I need is to re-write this whole thing from a different perspective. Maybe, all I need is myself. Maybe, all my dad needs is me.

To make the every worse situation worse, the only few people whom I once called the closest friends seem to have eventually gotten too busy to even discuss these little problems. Maybe they are pretending because they don’t know how to react. Maybe human relationships do not exist. Maybe I am too optimistic to be still believing in the existence of a perfect future. The whole point is basically pointless if you view it from an alienated eye, yet one thing never changes. We find most of the answers only within ourselves and we are nothing but what we make of ourselves. Nothing else matters because time takes everything away when the time comes, only the perspective differs.

June 2. 8:48PM. Song on repeat. On the sea. Beach House.

Another day of retrospection and the simplest things exist in the most complicated forms. Reality is never simple. It can knock you off at any point from anywhere. Like a punch-up at the your wedding. Quite close, indeed. Then you have the very tiring process of sitting, thinking, getting up and hitting back the same way the world cracked you up. Sounds easy in words.

Worse cases are for people who are bit unlucky than the rest. Boy! You’ll always be knocked off your stable mind, well, that’s the secrets of the ruling planets. Science it looks like but it isn’t so. Sounds easy in words.

Even more worse cases, there might or might be friends and relatives to hold you stand back. This is the best chance to judge people. Not everybody stays and the world takes a little turn. Sounds easy in words.

Worst case, when you got none. That’s when you got absolutely no choice. Either you live or die. Many chose death. Sounds easy in words.

We’d have been dead by now if dreams never existed. But they do. You don’t need to know where, when, how. But they just do. This is why we are alive and each dream form a subconscious imaginary life. Normally the other life is way ahead of us; maybe that’s why we chase them, maybe that’s why we chase dreams. Reality is going to always hold you back and make you question if dreams exist. Trust me, it does. But just make sure, you have enough time before you die.

June 2. 10:02 PM. Overkilled the song.

(An article about how hard I try at times to describe a happy loner.)

Nobody in this world really wants to be alone. It’s just that someday someone realizes that it’s better to be alone. It’s optional, like all other things. How people would opt for oranges instead of bananas and hardcover copies instead of paperbacks. Whatever that fits in the bag that you carry. You know, what I mean.

Besides, I am just some somebody who likes to live in my head, where I do everything that I want to. Not that I would do everything in reality but I guess it’s just easier, you know, living-in-the-head thing. It sorts out things on its own and presents to me the optional options. So I had two choices. Choose people or being alone. Choosing someone sounds simpler but trust me, its not. As a matter of fact, it gets worse when you know someone too well. It’s like you got nothing else left in this world to do; too many stories, presumptions, garbage and no space for the thoughts to wander around your mind. Besides, you need to give people time, energy and other terms of physics and also take it back from them if you can or want, which obviously depends on you. I need to probably sit in a café over tea and have a chat with somebody who has exactly the opposite observations. The ones who get excited when they read ‘sharing is caring’. You know, what I mean.

Besides besides, people who have so many misconceptions about me just because I am quiet, shy or a bit strange as they call me, in my head I am everything you don’t know about. You know, what I mean.

A friend of mine told me something a long long time ago. “Time heals”

Probably it was the most normal thing anybody could say to anyone.  Years later, I still realize it, it’s probably the simplest trick that dictates life.

I just let my unconscious mind do the talking while time passes by.

While the time passes by I watch people. I watch them fight and love. I watch them grow with others. I watch them die within themselves. We all learn from what we see while the mind manipulates its own answers to what we all face.

Time passes by and everything will change. The way we look at things and the way we deal with situations. Things that looked tougher will look a lot easier later. Years would have passed by then and we would have grown out of ourselves.

We are what we create ourselves to be. We are what we live, how we live and how we want to. Time created it. Time will take it away as it passes by. That is the assurance it gives.

Memories will live in our head as it always has. Perspective will change. The time will come when it  we can forget them, if we wanted to and only a few moments will last forever.

Then we can die in peace.

Written by Sridip Sural from Discreet Voices
Those nursery rhymes are still domiciled somewhere in our memory. Hanging by the edge of their tiny finger nails, they refuse to let go. All of us joined in unison when the teacher sang “London Bridge is falling down” without a care in the world as to what it meant or why it was written. Just sang along, following the teacher’s lead. We all have to agree that the tunes were catchy. But sadly most of the teachers made us sing those rhymes in a pretty morose “here.. just learn it by heart.. will ya???” fashion.


It’s kind of surprising to know that most of these rhymes were written between 13th to 18th century and they are still in existence. What’s more surprising is that most of these rhymes not only had hidden meanings but also referred to some political event or disaster. Like “Jack & Jill”. The origin of the poem is in France. Whom we call Jack is actually King Louis XVI and Jill is Queen Marie Antoinette. King Louis XVI was beheaded (lost his crown) first, and then Queen Marie Antoinette came tumbling after during the Reign of Terror in 1793.


Then there is “London Bridge is falling down”. It supposedly tells about the fall of Anne Boleyn. Boleyn was accused of adultery and incest and was ultimately executed for treason. “Humpty Dumpty” is about huge cannon which couldn’t be fixed once it fell. Don’t you find it weird that Humpty Dumpty looked like a giant egg? Nowhere in the rhyme does it tell that he looked like one. But, here we are, singing about an overgrown egg, sitting on a wall for reasons best known only to him and then dies in mysterious circumstances. If you notice properly, in most of the pictures the wall is not more than 8 feet high. Just a mere fall would not be enough to crack an egg that big. Plus he had two hands and legs to cushion his fall. Unless he fell like this:






So was Humpty Dumpty murdered? Or did he commit suicide? Guess, we will never know.


Would have definitely changed the ending.


Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall,
All the King’s Horses and all the King’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again.
So they made a huge omelette,
And had it with bread,
So that people in the country knew,
He didn’t die in vain.


“Baa Baa Black Sheep”, our timeless racist rhyme, also had political undertones. No.. it’s not about slavery. It is thought to be a political satire on the export tax imposed in Britain in 1275 under the rule of King Edward I. Forget about its origin, somehow people still consider the poem to be very racist. So they went about changing it. Two private nurseries in Oxfordshire in 2006 altered the song to “Baa Baa Rainbow Sheep”. Rainbow Sheep??? Just hope this doesn’t turn out to be an anthem for the cough syrup drinking, glue sniffing youth we have nowadays. It has all the elements to be a dope classic.. the colour, the talking with animals and the “bags full of wool”. If you refer to the original version of the rhyme, the last line was ”who cries down the lane”, which can be a possible reference to cold turkey.


I have to admit though, that am fascinated by “Ring around the Rosie”. This rhyme tells about the Great Plague of London in 1665. If you haven’t heard of the rhyme before, here is how it goes:


Ring around the rosy,
A pocketful of posies,
“Ashes, Ashes”
We all fall down!


The symptoms of bubonic plague included a rosy red ring-shaped rash, which inspired the first line. People carried pockets full of fresh herbs or “posies” since they believed that the disease was carried by bad smell.  The “ashes, ashes” line refers to the cremation of the bodies of those who died from the plague.


I was wondering if such rhymes can originate in this day and age. There have been many events which can be cocooned by a rhyme. What I really want to see is a nursery rhyme originating in India. We even had an age when we could have done that. Like when the British ruled. Or when Indira Gandhi declared emergency. What if you had a chance now? What would you cover? Godhra Riots? Bhopal Gas Tragedy? 2G Scam?


It’s leaking, it’s oozing,
The worker is snoring,
All the people who went to sleep,
Smelled something that hit them deep,
And they couldn’t wake up in the morning.


P.S. Here is my favorite nursery rhyme:


A wise old owl lived in an oak,
The more he saw the less he spoke,
The less he spoke the more he heard,
Why can’t we all be like that wise old bird?
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