iNcOmpLete pErFecT chOicE...

Eclipsing the obvious
A chance to surrender
You long to close the space
Yet
Unable to grasp
Claustrophobia envelops
A restraint keeps your place.
A smooth conversation, paradox of passion, no inevitability,

Only precision of movement.

OR

Step into abundance
Smell the spring
Feel the sunshine
Yet
A pinion of chaos holds you
To your scattered fettered chamber
A gentle swift oscillation
Excessive indulgence, abandon of grief, no acquiesce,

Only minutes of the mind.

Yet i fret

i am devoid of a choice.

There are still oblivious blanks to be filled between
...

Fear ___________________________________ Bliss

The Second Coming

What's a second chance…

Second chance is absolution.
Second chance is solace.
Second chance is euphoria.
Second chance is optimism.

Second chance is treading over broken mirrors…it’s mighty scary.

Getting a second chance is like being cautious not to spill your red port wine over your extravagant Versace cocktail dress.
Getting a second chance is like taking small bites of your piping hot truffle pudding and savouring each morsel; it’s not the messy hogging you did with your wobbly jelly. You don’t want to get burnt again.
Getting a second chance is not the smooth cruise ride into sunset, it’s a ride in the hot air gas balloon or a bungee jump for the more adventurous souls. You have to double check your safety net.
Getting a second chance is not like rushing in and chasing around like Don Juan. It requires you to be patient, you need to keep editing and re-editing the past.
Getting a second chance, is like trying to find that song that fits your frame of mind, but nothing seems to fit square.
Getting a second chance is like heading to the hills, when you really want to be by a beach, but hills are cool too.
Getting a second chance is like holding hands again, only you’re not sure that whether it ought to be his hand over yours, or your hand over his, or holding it gently or tightly.

Getting a second chance to start over with an estranged, unrequited past is like weeding out the unwanted jeeper creepers in your rose garden. You are careful with tendering the plant, you hope for it to bloom the way you desired, but you’re still skeptical until you see it grow...until you reach there. There is potpourri of relief and uncertainty. You sip from a cup of hope and anxiety.

What’s ironic is that you know you waited for the second chance to happen. When it happens; it happens it happens unexpectedly and you don’t know how to feel. Your answers become your questions. It’s a catch “head over feet” situation

Do second chances come with a buried baggage? They can’t be baggage–free coz there’s already been a first. So do you start over or do you pick the pieces from where you left it abandoned? If you start over, are you too cautious about not letting it fall-through?

It’s a trade-off with your pregnant ego, while your trust remains a little skeptical. But then everything is a trade off in some variant terms. The closest I got to figuring out ‘a second chance’ is that getting a second chance is not about preparing an exquisite, exotic recipe; it’s about keeping it simple…and mabbe a little garnishing. You can never be certain about how much garnishing...

who flew over the CUCKOO's nest...

A very common anti-establishment debate has been – who’s to decide what defines sanity and insanity? Where do you draw the line?

A recent media coverage once again made a mockery of the ‘sanity’ in the name of ‘Breaking News’. An absolutely desperate, pathetic, depraved attempt at the portrayal of insanity to notch up their channel’s TRP ratings. A juvenile assumption and swift conclusion of linking drug abuse, moral debasement and insanity, reiterating the judgment the society casts on those they claim are ‘insane’. A cold, benumbed coverage of ‘Model Bani Bhikaran’ accessorized by views from the fashion junta to make their ‘breaking news’ in the market and to feed the voracious appetite of their voyeuristic audience! Amen to that.

I’m not sure who’s the loon here?
I’m not sure if it’s the media that feeds on society or the society that feeds on media?
I’m not sure if drugs lead to insanity?
I’m not sure what’s insanity?
What I do know is that I’m pissed and appalled at the mockery of an individual’s idiosyncrasy, their choice to exist in a form and being as they please.

The most obvious conclusion drawn by a leading news channel in the Gitanjali Nagpal ‘Ramp to road breaking news’ on their channel was, that she is mentally unstable. She is addicted to drugs. She is helpless. She is abandoned. She’s a victim. She’s a model. She’s sick. Quick to join the dots, the media blamed the pressures of fame and allure of the fashion world, the quickie lifestyle, the drugs and glorified Gitanjali as a victim of fashion and depraved existence. Almost like raising a bait to their quick to judge and hungry for sensational news audience – “Quick, here’s your bait. Jump up and reach for her.” Pathetic!

Famous fashion quotes cut and edited to reiterate their and their world’s assumption the channels quoted –
“It’s quite unfortunate what drugs have led her to.”
“We as fashion fraternity must help her. It’s our duty”
“She’s desperate, helpless, sick”
“She was alone”

How ridiculous does that sound.

Was Gitanjali looking for 5 mins of fame and limelight? Your guess is as good as mine, but then I don’t trust yours.
She never asked for the channels to cover her.
She didn’t weave a sob story or any story in front of the cameras. She was oblivious to them.
She didn’t care. Period.
And we just needed another story to make our life’s more exciting and to judge someone else. She was made out to be some kind of a freak coz she attempted to live life on her terms and because she was a woman. She’s not ‘meant’ to be a free soul.

Who’s seems lunatic - Gitanjal or the media?