Smiles

Where do smiles go on Sunday nights.

Do they get tired like neon lights,
before the sunrise.
Do they fade like sparks from an orphan's eyes,
after morning's demise.
Do they run to their old lovers' arms to find,
the warmth of no surprise.
Do they stretch their legs on the wet pavement,
the night it rained twice.
Do they sit by the sea of memories,
watching the dark waves rise.
Do they search for the lost mistake,
tryng to wrong the worthless rights.

Where do smiles go on Sunday nights.

Let there be darkness...

The cheeriness was getting to me. Now my blog is dark and comfy - just the way I like it!

The gift of no gift

I was considered a "good" student since beginning of my studies. I wasn't brilliant or dumb or average - just a good student - the kind usually featuring in top 3/4 in the class (and occasionally 1st). I usually never had to try too hard (atleast in certain subjects) and for the rest, whenever I tried hard, it paid decently. In college, again, the obstacles weren't insurmountable and I could go past them fairly acceptably.

However, the nice ride didn't last too long. During my 2nd/3rd year, I started to notice that I had some questions to which the answers didn't lend themselves so easily. This was a bit frustrating because till then, with varying degrees of effort, I could clear my doubts myself. Initially I tried quite hard to crack them and then I realized that I wasn't able to do so on my own. I discussed with my peers but they weren't all that much help. I sought help from my professors but the stack of queries was too deep to unwind using their quick advise.

I was the kind of person who is restless till the answer is found. I say "was" because I tried a workaround (and managed to certain extent) to change myself so that I could ignore the discomfort of doubt. In other words, don't try to find the answer if you can't find it. I put a pebble on the questions in my mind and tried to move on. However, as happens with a house of cards, you can't leave gaps in the foundation. The pebbles got too many and too heavy. That was the start of the end of my formal education.

That was also when the sense of me being mediocre was planted. Its not a soft pain which you can ignore and move on. When you desperately want to understand things and you can't, it feels like a fiber stuck between your teeth at the back of the mouth. You can't reach it, you can't remove it, you constantly feel it and can't take your mind of it. Its almost physical. You get frustrated and start asking stupid questions like - "why me?" or "why am I not more intelligent/smart/above the scores of people around us?"

Recently I saw an interview about a guy - he came across as a really nice person. However, he has a medical condition which is making him constantly grow tall - very tall. Due to his condition, his bones are not growing in proportion to his age/facial structure - this makes his looks rather unconventional - you wouldn't call him pretty. And he is just a teenager. I couldn't imagine what that guy feels like. I couldn't imagine how incredibly hard he may be wishing to be mediocre. Does he ask questions like "why me" or "why am I NOT just like the scores of people around us?"

We commonly like to gripe that god has been unkind to us. Makes you realise that sometimes being unremarkable is a remarkable gift.

Kobita