Musings on Making Things Real

I've been writing this blog off n on since March last year. Truthfully, I
have written more posts in the last 2 months than the entire 2006. Why?
Can't say.

Also, most of the posts which I have written have been morbid and
depressing.
Assuming that it's MY blog and I'm free to write whatever comes to MY mind…
no matter how dark it is… I kept writing.

Have NOT given a second thought to the fact that when I write something
down, I actually seal it… make it more real than it was when inside my head.

Or maybe it is an attempt by me to gain some sympathy… find a common ground…
a listening ear. ( coz I know for a fact that the people around me are
totally and completely fed up of my whining!)

So I write… and It gives me satisfaction.

And then I chance upon this post on Danah's blog ' Musing on making things
Real'

http://www.zephoria.org/thoughts/
<http://www.zephoria.org/thoughts/>

It leaves me thinking about relationships and their idiosyncrasies.

Of all the things which people do when they break up, I've done NONE:
- His number is still on my phone
- I have all the pics… safely stored away. Am avoiding looking at
them, but don't have the heart to burn them
- Have blocked and unblocked him 1 million times on my msn… at the
moment, he's unblocked

As confusion prevails in my mind… I'm thinking… am I stuck in a time warp?
I need closure, instead I write a new post everyday talking about how
miserable I am without him.

Think I read somewhere that men have this amazing ability to
'compartmentalize' their thots, put them into neatly packaged slots. So if
they don't want to open the package named 'relationship' they just put it
into the back compartment and move on with their daily existence… happily.

Women on the other hand mull, dissect, shred to pieces every goddamn
thought, event till they have a headache and have no choice but to have a
disprin and sleep. And even in sleep, you'd find women having vivid dreams
about the same. So in reality, there is no rest provided to the miniature
brain at any level.

Think I admire men for this ability. Have been trying to emulate them in
this respect by compartmentalizing my thoughts.

Here's what I'm doing these days:

Have an image of a door with a key in the lock. Everytime I have a thought
about the past I try to literally pick it up( the thought), throw it behind
the door and turn the lock. Now I would like to throw the key away, but I
keep it handy for the next thought which comes in !! It has worked at some
level.

But women will be women… and here I am writing another post about my
struggles, rather than throwing the thoughts behind the door !!!!! hehehe!

Gaaawwdddd! Help the female species :-)

I have an urge… to return the blank call. To hear the voice and just…click
I don’t see the point of it, I don’t see the logic of it, and I definitely don’t see it going anywhere.

However, I have an urge…

And

The urge is eating me alive.

Thank you, Girl Interupted.

Tonite I watched 'Girl Interupted' for the 4th time maybe 5th.
Every time I watch the movie, it leaves me with a sense of freedom.

To begin with, I identify most with Susanna ( Winona Ryder), the woman driving herself insane with her own hands. She walks into a mental institution, not belonging there, and slowly becomes an integral part of the place and it's people.
Lisa ( Angelina Jolie) is the in-your-face, hyper woman losing her rhythm constantly and creating chaos at every step.

Through the course of the movie the two woman find true friendship, a bond which only 2 people on the verge of a breakdown can possibly find. They grow closer and then move apart and then grow closer again. They slowly discover their own identities and begin a quest at finding their souls.

The beauty of the movie, I feel, does not lie solely in the acting, which in itself is remarkable. It's the theme of the movie which truly touches your heart.

In a world of crazy events, happenings and not to mention people, sanity is surely just an illusion we create in our minds to give ourselves some solace, is it not? the distinction between the crazy and the so-called 'outside' world... what is it? and who establishes it?
And yet we continue with our daily routines, with our minds full of rubbish, standing on the edge of insanity and pitying the ones who crossed the line.
Are we sane? Is it necessary to talk funny to be branded crazy? Is it necessary to try and commit suicide, to be declared mentally ill, even though you maybe thinking about it 24-7?

While these questions trouble me, the ending of the movie brings me back from my dark thoughts to the light of day.
As Susanna sits on the stairs crying , staring at Lisa and listening to her wild ranting,

She says, " Ive wasted 1 year of my life in this mental institution... and I know the world out there maybe insane, but I'd rather be out there in that crazy world, than be here in this mental institution"

And it makes sense. Binding the movie. A perfect full circle.

We sit and cry about our miseries, some self-created, some not, when the world is waiting with open arms, longing to hold us.

I shut the TV and smile.

I feel hope. Hope for myself and my future. Hope that everything will fall into place. Hope that I'm here to discover myself and everyday brings me a step closer towards finding myself.

Thank you, Girl Interupted.

Still raving about nonsense...

Here’s the poem which K has been totally insisting I introduce you all to.

The Bathing Hymn

( Translated by Anoushka Ravi shankar from the Marathi original ‘Aanghol Stotra’ )

Om havum bathum namaha

Om take offum clothesum namaha

On the body applyum oilum namaha

Scrubscrubum namaha rubrubum namaha

Scrubscrubum namaha

Om on the body porurum waterum namaha

Glugglugum namaha blugblugum namaha

Glugglugum namaha

Om applyum soapum namaha

Scrubscrubum namaha rubrubum namaha

Work upum latherum namaha

Om pourum more waterum namaha

Glugglugum namaha blugblugum namaha

Wash offum soapum namaha

Om wipeum bodyum namaha

Weareum clothesum namaha

Om niceum cleanum namaha

Bring outum snacksum namaha!

By far the weirdest poem I’ve personally ever read. Am amazed at the fact that it has been written at all. And yet… it’s awesome! :)