badi mushkil hai

this was supposed to be one thing and now it is something else. i am on a mission to completely rid myself of words and ideas by the time december rolls in.

I have been a bad bad bad person for the past few days. I keep telling people things and then I keep berating myself for not living up to their supposed image of me. But like, who am I to know what light they perceive me in? How can I be so sure about my own judgement of other people when I am always sceptical of theirs?

I think one of the hardest lessons I am learning these days is to let people consume me in whatever way they want. I am not fifteen anymore, everything in me isn’t born out of a need to be wanted. I know where to draw a line, for the most part. So I am allowing friends to be friends, I am allowing people to love me, and I am allowing myself to mess up a little. I am not that bad of a person, if I really think about it. But as I said, it’s a hard, on-going lesson, and five steps forward means three steps backwards - self-loathing, punishing myself and then the gradual fear that I am about to be the laughing stock of this situation.

In October I made a list. Here’s some of the things that were on it - 

1. BE HONEST - let people inside the story. It is about you, and not the world. Start inside.

2. STOP justifying your failures. You know what you did.

3. The sadness may last forever, but not you. I think this was written in response to Van Gogh’s the sadness will last forever, a motto (for me) which has stayed with me since I was fourteen. Maybe I am actually growing up. 

4. Keep a guy on the backburner.

5. LOVE! LOVE! LOVE!

6. Be honest. 

I like creating statements and mottos which give me an air of self-importance. Oh I am a vulnerable graceful 20 year old woman who is going through so much inexplicable grief right now. Someone come and hold me.

But it’s all a lie, I am barely a woman these days. I do have grief though, but it’s all tucked away - FRAGILE. TO BE OPENED IN TEN YEARS. Etc etc etc.

My lamentations will never end if we really look at it. I am waiting for news from all directions these days. I am trying to work, but I really can’t. I have a story in my head which refuses to come out. I felt jealous a few days ago, when I saw a girl on Instagram (I know, laugh all you want), who was my age. She was writing emo poetry about a guy who did not deserve her “soft body with thunderstorms underneath” or something, and also going out wearing killer boots and a beautiful dress, and getting drunk. I was so jealous I wanted to cut my hair. I wanted to spend my whatever remaining money on knee high boots. 

I think I was mostly annoyed because her poetry wasn’t even good. I really thought I was better than her. I still do, to be honest. 

But yeah, I thought about it a little, why was I feeling such feelings?

I got the answer, sort of. For the sake of my privacy and my sense of shame we will not really get into it, but I think I was mostly annoyed because of how much I am struggling with even the simplest things these days. It’s not that poor girl’s fault. But god, it really sucks. 

It’s fine. Someday I will feel pretty in a roomful of people, and it won’t matter. 

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Image which resonated with me this week -

The Girl in the Window, Kabukicho 歌舞伎町

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I was listening to Tera Mera Pyaar by Kumar Sanu right now and I was thinking about how this song was not written for someone in particular. It's a song put out for the audience to consume. So in a way, it's a vessel. It has specific lyrics, a certain tone to it, and it is aimed towards people in love. But not everyone in love will enjoy it or relate to it. So that's pretty cool, right? 

Some people will be able to share some special sentiments (alliteration!) after listening to this song, whereas some will just enjoy how it sounds. I really like that, when art gives you a chance to consume it in a way that makes it seem like it's for you.

The other side to this is when people specifically write a poem/song for someone, and then so many other people relate to it and chip away at the said song/poem to put inside their own lives and relationships. For example (bear with me, I'm just using examples of songs that were last played in my library), Doll Parts by Hole was written by Courtney when she met Kurt and was unsure about his feelings for her (he was also sleeping with two other girls at that time). Now, so many of us have been through that haven't we? Don't you wanna be the girl with the most cake?

Okay, I'll leave you with some better, digestible examples. Excuse me for using only men as examples; I can’t help it, I love the way men love.

What about this excerpt from one of Vladimir Nabokov’s letter to his wife, Véra?

Or, when Siken (yes, sigh, sorry) wrote The Long and Short of It. He clearly had someone in mind. But that’s the thing, when you have someone on your mind 24x7, there’s no escape, everything turns out to be either an excuse or a reason to think about them. 

Another one is of course, the very famous, the very enchanting, the very I-wasn’t-sure-I-could-feel-such-tenderness-and-longing-and-yearning-for-someone type of letter written by Lemony Snicket. Here’s an excerpt from it, but I do recommend you read it in its entirety. 

This last one, by Frank o’Hara, from Biotherm (for Bill Berkson)

These artists all wrote these words for someone, or out of their feelings for someone. And now it’s out in the open. I read it and I think of you, and I look at people in love and miss you. Ultimately every string in my heart just tugs to the rhythm of you. 

My point is, all art is some sort of vessel. The vessel is sometimes made from the artist’s emotions, other times it’s merely the fact that it’s art; and what it holds is our response. Maybe the song which reminds you of a loved one reminds me of that one terrible phase in my life. Maybe Kaye Donachie’s paintings will always remind me of Fish in Exile, and that one week I spent trying so hard to not hurt myself.

Art is memory, memory is a medium, and ultimately we’re the instruments who are being played over and over to satisfy some god/universe/energy’s demands. After all, who doesn’t like to be entertained?

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fave genre of photography. im a city girl through and through i think. @jetjaguar on ig

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One of my favourite genres of songs is the kind of songs you can sing as lullabies, or just sing to make anyone sleep. Here are two of the best Hindi songs with lullaby potential. You can sing them to yourself or to your loved one, or you can go on your own quest to find your lullaby.

1. Sona Nahi Na Sahi from One 2 Ka 4 - written by Majrooh Sultanpuri

   

   SRK and Juhi Chawla in the song, trying to find the middle ground in their love. She wins, of course. He lets her, of course.

I think this has to do with the fact that my own mother used to sing this every once in a while, and it has now turned out to be a reassurance. Whenever I miss her, I listen to it and try to fall asleep. A month ago I was babysitting a baby girl and she was crying. I sang this to her and she fell asleep. Definitely one of my top 2021 moments. (the indented ones is the man singing, and the italicised one is the woman)

Sona Nahin na sahi

Chaandi nahi na sahi

Fikar kya hai main hoon na tere liye

Neither gold, nor silver 

Is in our possession

But why do you fret, my love,

I am here for you, and only you. 

O magar jag mein meri jaan

Koi dil ki tamanna

Mohabbat ke siwa bhi hai

Mere liye, tere mere liye

Oh, dear life of mine,

My heart has desires 

Which aren’t limited to love,

For myself, and you, both. 

Maanta hoon sanam

Pyaar hi hai zindagi

Kya karoon dil mein thi

Baat koyi aur hi

I agree, sweetheart

Life is nothing without love

But what can I say,

My heart has other concerns for us too!

Arey jo bhi hai woh sab galat hai

Maan jaa o dilruba

Saare jag mein kuch nahi hai

Ek tere mere siwa

Everything else is a lie, 

Trust me, beloved.

This world has nothing of importance,

Except you and I.

 Arey chalo maana behes kya hai

Mohbaat hi sach hai yaar

Okay, fine, why are we arguing.

Love is the only thing that matters!

Karoge tum

Haan karoge tum sajan mujhse

Karogi main tum se pyaar

It’s easy! You will love me, my darling

And I will love you. 

Chalo sona nahi na sahi

Chaandi nahi na sahi

Fikar kya hai tu hain na mere liye

Hai na mere liye

Okay, forget gold, who cares about silver?

Why am I worried about the practicalities of life

when you are there for me, forever for me.

2. Aa Chal Ke Tujhe, from the movie Door Gagan Ki Chhaon Mein, written by Kishore Kumar

My grandfather used to listen to this on his Panasonic radio. Now he listens to it on his Saregama Caravan. Almost everyone I know has heard this song. So many things have changed in my daada’s life, but he is still walking that long road, still waiting to find this place I think. Maybe I am too.

Aa chal ke tujhe mein leke chalu

Ek aise gagan ke tale

Jaha ghum bhi na hon, asoon bhi na hon

Bas pyar hi pyar pale

Let me walk you to a place,

under such a sky

where there’s no place for sadness, nor for tears

A place where only love grows. 

Suraj ki pehle kiran se aasha ka savera jaage

Chanda ki kiran se dhulkar ghanghor andhera bhage

Kabhi dhoop khile, kabhi chaao mile

Lambi si dagar na khale

Jaha ghum bhi na hon, asoon bhi na hon

Bas pyar hi pyar pale

The sun’s first ray wakes you to a hopeful morning

The moonlight washes over the frightful darkness

The sun shines sometimes, sometimes you meet the cool shade

The road is long, but not tiresome

There’s no sadness, there’s no time for tears,

It’s just love for you, my love. 

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I think that’s all for today. I think it ran longer than necessary? Today I was out in the market with my mother and I kept feeling like I was missing out on something really important. I came back home to my lonely life and now I am on my lonely bed, writing to you. I am going to do so many things in 2022. I will find better things, I will let better things find me. I hope you allow yourself chances over and over too, by the way. You’re not too old, you’re not too bad, you’re not being a horrible person. See you on the other side, for sure. This tunnel has an end for sure.

Love,

Rusty.