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As you glide through life, you change. As you soar up high, you look ahead and you dream. You dream to touch the clouds above. And you flap your wings hard, and harder to reach that place. You thrive with all your might to touch that fluffy little piece of cloud. But one little moment when you look down to feel the pride in your heart to have soared so high, you see the ground. You see the little houses, where men live. You see the green and the line of blue cutting through it. You see the stream, but fail to hear the gurgle which was so clear when you were sitting on a rock by it. And then you realize, maybe it was not the clouds that you sought for. Maybe, you had it all wrong. And you longed to get back there, sit on that rock and close your eyes and listen to the water gurgle by your side, to God knows where. And you feel, life might be about achieving. It might be about dying proud. But it also means to be happy, to be free, to be lazy, and to die peaceful. And when you look deep into your heart, you might find a feeling whispering to you, that you don't want to die proud and meaningful. You just want to die smiling and peaceful.

So, you decide, that you touch that piece of cloud, and turn back as fast as you can, to return back to that place where you heart belonged. So, you try harder, you tire our wings more, you flap them faster. As thousands of thoughts zoom through your head, you miss that place on the earth, you miss the green and the stream, and the noises. And then you ask yourself, "What the hell am I doing? I need to get back there." Yeah, you realize that you are a lot impatient. So, you turn back and with a smile on your face, you fly back to the place that sits down there.

Your dreams change.

But then one day, you wish you could have flown a little more. And maybe you could have let your feet rest on the clouds. And maybe you would have liked that. But now you will never know. Time doesn't come back to you. And it doesn't leave you enough time to retrace those paths.

So, you sit by the favorite stream of yours, listen to all the noises around it. You feel peaceful. You feel happy. Life has been good to you. But you die with that one dream unfulfilled. Do you regret? No, you don't. It was a choice you made out of all the dreams you had. And the unfulfilled dream, you can always come back for that. Ask Him, to send you back, so that you can fly away on your dreams over again.

Insomnia makes philosophers

Last night I couldn't sleep for a long time! I tried breathing in and out, did not work. I tried to count, started at 1, went upto 490 and then decided that I couldnt be so pathetic to go any further. And then I thought about a hundred things, till I could go back to sleep and decided that life is all about companionship.

Insomnia (Just as a one night stand... I am not a patient) can make philosophers, I guess. I thought about hundreds of things, about people, friends, crushes, mom n dad. Memories breezed by as I kept counting. Sometimes I did find loneliness standing around the corner.

I remembered one winter afternoon under Naini bridge, sharing choclates, and later photographing birds in Company Bag, the same evening.

I remembered a late evening, fourteen girls, a hostel corrider, no electricity and laughter.

I remembered one long drive down the Barasat-Barrackpore road, street lights and black silhouttes of trees, a cup of tea from the roadside dhaba and butterflies in the stomach.

I remembered a day when mom slapped, rolling tears and a hug just 5 minutes later, and a nap with my head on mom's lap.

One evening when I cried on the phone and the friend explained how special I could be.

The college quadrangle, a bunch of friends, where we loved to listen to the music on the mouth organ.

Long letters to a best friend, I wonder how I wrote those pages after pages without tiring myself.

Early morning, 7.30 am, 14 girls, tears rolling down sleepy eyes, seniors and ragging.

Pictures of a carraige, and a blue long flowing gown, the fiction of a first date.

A little poem, scribbled into paper, and loving it all the way.

And the most, I remembered a few promises made to me, and a pair of eyes That I hurt just because I was so damn tired to fight back.

Hundreds of thoughts went by and I wondered... we met, we parted, what remained was memories. Some of them had been so painful, yet when I think of them today, I smile. With every memory exists a person. A wonderful person in his/her own special way. Sometimes these memories hurt not because they happened, but because they ceased to exist. But everytime I stopped at the lonely corners, I wiped off a tear. Corners deviod of people, devoid of company... what existed was void. People say I am strong, emotionally. I handle the mental downphases well by myself. But you know what I am really scared of? Being alone... that is what scares me the most. I need to talk, to listen, to know that I have people around me to whom I mean at least something if not a lot.

P.S. : Please dont take this post very seriously... This was written by a philosopher made by an insomniac sleepless night ! Sometimes you are allowed to get a little emotional.... *wink*

At Bangalore!

I had been waiting to get down to bangalore and join the company I was placed in. And finally when I am here, I am actually trying to like the things that I am doing. I am trying to like my training sessions, my weekends and my evenings at the PG. Don't get me wrong! I am not miserable. I am simply not able to be myself. The self that I loved being. Confusing right ??? *grin* Even I am in a similar state of mind. I will give you an example. I hate cooking and yet yesterday I spent my whole morning walking down the streets of Shivajinagar market buying utensils to cook in. I spent more than Rs. 2000 on all of it. And this morning I got up early to cook and hated the procedure all along. But still I did it and I promise I am going to continue and I have absolutely no idea why.

The only thing that I am actually excited about is my new laptop and the soon to have an internet connection. Then I could come back to the world I love... reading and writing. Till then!

Happy Birthday !

Whose? Well... it was mine. Wish me ! *chuckle*
I had not so bad a day. The friends i had been staying with, forgot it was my birthday, and since I wasn't expecting that, I did not care to remind them. It was half an hour to 28th jan (the day) when i got a call for an advance wish and then they remembered. For the next five minutes they lamented about the fact that they forgot and did not have a cake for the midnight cake cutting process. Later they made a cake of "suji ka halwa" with pieces of almonds saying "happy b'day mou". I loved every bit of it.
We stayed up late, listened to some party songs, though did not actually have a party since i had to prepare for an interview the coming afternoon (my b'day afternoon). *sad face*

So I slept late, woke up early, mugged up basics of Java and appeared for the interview. I didn't even get time to bathe due to lack of time for the mugging up process. But I assure you, I wasn't smelling. And I wasn't looking bad either. I reached 5 minutes late for the interview (thanks to the mugging up process again).

Three people interviewed. two technical and a HR. ( As an extra information, well... I had a crush on one of them *wink* ).

Done with the interview, I came back home at about 8.00 pm. Chatted a while, ate a bit, and birthday was over. I had always wanted my birthdays to be extra special, i love it that way. and this time I wudn't say I had a wonderful day, but I wudn't complain.

Most of my good friends had called. a few hadn't. Some forgot and then remembered. Some totally forgot. Some mailed, and messaged. No complains there too.

And at the end of the day I realized, I was missing my mom terribly.

A bit of Explanation

Recently I posted "A Perfect Love Story", then let it stay on the blog for a few hours and then deleted it, saying that it was a little personal.
People are getting me wrong. I am down with questions from many. I guess the title did the trick. Trust me it wasn't about my love story. I have no *such* complains about my love story !

I had watched three wonderfully unrealistic, dramatic love stories viz,
Love aaj Kal
27 Dresses
When Harry met Sally

The third one was not that dramatic, and maybe that's what created the now deleted post.
It was just about this dramatic feature of movies and the hour (3 am in the morning) that brought out thoughts that are good when kept to myself. It was all about why could we not do those dramatic things in reality !

Please stop analyzing those who are !

Un-Welcoming change

She never thought that at one point of time in her life, she would sit up one night and wonder what was going wrong? Or maybe was it going right? All she could do was wonder. She had always been stubborn with her thoughts. She had made her own rules about life, applied her own logic to them. She had lived with people and adjusted well, loved and was equally loved, but her thoughts were born out of her own heart. She may not have spoken them out loud, but they existed firmly within her, explaining and growing all through.
And all of a sudden, she felt as if she was made to stand at the top of a hill and look below... at the city that lay in the valley. The same city where she had lived and never known, because she was in there, amidst the crowd. And now as she stood at the top of the hill, she saw the same things at a distant and from a different perspective. She was surprised and confused, because the things that were bigger and clearer once, were at the moment far away, unclear, yet she had her view stretched far and things had started to relate. And standing there, she wondered what made her climb up the hill. Yes, that was what she worried about the most - the reason for that uphill climb.
And as she climbed higher, she realized the change within herself. The change was simple and ordinary. Like finding the same music noisy that was once a tribute to ears. Like moving from the bustle of a city to the silence of the skies. Like falling in love with a flute instead of the guitar. Like sitting by the uphill road and watch a damselfly fly by instead of holding hands with the man she loved.
She knew he loved her, and she loved him back. Maybe she needed some time. Time enough to have seen the valley, time enough to walk down the hill, time enough to gather up her scattered thoughts and arrange them, time enough to un-welcome the change.

Side Effects of Increased Readership

I have been blogging since March 2007. (Check my profile). That would mean I should have been an expert in blogging. But, unfortunately I am not. Reasons??? Well, the main reason is blog deletions.

The first time I created a blog, i.e., in March 2007, I maintained it a month or so and then I deleted it. I don't exactly remember why I deleted it. It was long time back. But I guess it was maybe because I did not know what to write. I was into college then and most of my time was taken up by Google talk, Orkut and college fun. I did not sketch as much as I do now-a-days.
What followed was a series of creations and deletions of which I don't have count. Every creation lasted about two to three in number of posts and about one month. If I plot a graph of my college events on the x-axis and frequency of blog creations on the y-axis... It would look like ...



There were other reasons too like mood frenzies, boredom, process of releasing anger, lack of readership, etc. I do not wish to go into detail with them except one because others do not concern the topic here. The one reason that concerns the topic is "new ideas of blogging". And when I say new ideas, I mean new ideas for blog type, new ideas for blog headers, new ideas for blog content.
My first blog was named, "Mou's Blog". I had no thoughts about the blog content then. Then another of my blog was named, "Mou speaks". A series of "Mou *this*" and "Mou *that*" followed. Then I turned into a little more expert. So titles changed into innovative phrases.
One of them I remember - Words at sunset. It was meant to be a daily diary of events.
I deleted that because, it sometimes went too personal and I had started deleting posts once I was out of the phase that made such personal posts. So... Blog gone !

The second last one that I deleted was named "Drops on my Window Shield". It was named after my book of poems and the blog was meant to be a poetry blog. I deleted it for two reasons. First some anonymous guy said my poems were copied, because they were too good to be written by me. I could have taken it as a compliment and I later did, but that moment I was hurt. The second reason was, I cherish my poems and had plans to get them published some day. So, the poor blog goes extinct again.

The last blog that I deleted was "My Sketch Book." I actually merged it into this blog.
And the current blog was earlier named as "Drops" as a tribute to my book of poems. But just before I joined indiblogger I changed it into "A Damsel Fly" (just an idea). And then I went popular. Readership improved. And now I have ideas again of blog headers but i dont think people would like to read a blog that starts a new identity every now and then. So, I accept this state of stability for the first time in my blogging lifetime just for the sake of preserving my blog readership. After all why would someone want to write something that people do not care to read or see. :P

So, much for readership !

The First Tag

Tagged by Dhiman. My first Tag.

Well this one’s called “ABC Tag” that is ABC of me(Know more about me series) and the rules are :

• Link the person who tagged you.
• Post the rules on your blog.
• Share the ABCs of you.
• Tag 3 people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
• Let the 3 tagged people know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.
• Do not tag the same person repeatedly but try to tag different people, so that there is a big network of bloggers doing this tag! (Very Important One!)

So here Goes ...

A – Available/Single? Single but not available

B – Best friend? Mom

C – Cake or Pie? Never had a pie yet !
D – Drink of choice? Water

E – Essential item you use every day? Toothbrush.

F – Favorite colour? Blue n White

G – Gummy Bears Or Worms? umm...

H – Hometown? Deoghar
I – Indulgence? Right now... Eat , Sleep and Blog.

J – January or February? January... thats my birth month.

K – Kids & their names? You will have to wait until i have discussed them with my husband.

L – Life is incomplete without? A lone walk now n then, reflecting and thinking things that are of no use ("use" as defined by the common materialistic man).

M – Marriage date? Lets find a guy first !

N – Number of siblings? a younger brother... the macho man of the house !

O – Oranges or Apples? What if i would prefer something else... say grapes?

P – Phobias/Fears? Come on !!! I AM BRAVE !

Q – Quote for today? "Love your Blog"

R – Reason to smile? thts hard to tell when most of the time you are smiling coz of no particular reason.

S – Season? Spring

T – Tag 3 People? lets see ...

U – Unknown fact about me? dont u know??? then i guess I did not want you to know !

V – Vegetable you don’t like? Please... forgive me on this one... I love vegetables.

W – Worst habit? I never ever ever like to "un"praise myself !

X – X-rays? They are harmful. Very harmful !

Y – Your favorite food? Somebody please tag me with a "food list" !

Z – Zodiac sign? Aquarius. The water bearer !


Now my turn to tag... Avishek, Mahul and Paritosh. Time to visit them !

Oh By the way... Can I do this over again, I have three more people to tag !!!!!!

The Bucket List

I haven’t seen the movie yet and I have no idea when I will be able to. Now-a-days movies seem a far fetched idea. Well, I have seen Dasvidaniya (The Indian version). Liked it. So, I thought maybe a bucket list of mine wouldn’t be bad.

So here goes:

• Get married. I hate loneliness. Well, I am not in a hurry… But still, it’s important.
• Travel around the world.
• Build a home in the mountains. I love mountains. Have you ever been to Peling (near Gangtok)? We stayed in a hotel and every time I landed into the balcony, a vast stretch of mountains surrounded us with 7 waterfalls embedded into those vegetated rocks. It was beautiful I don’t know why mountains attract me like anything. If somebody tells me that I would never have to worry about basic things of life, I guess I can go up to live among the mountains.
• Adopt two children. At least that would help the population and would give a home and parents to two orphans. I wonder if every couple adopted a child each, India would be a better place to live in.
• Be called a writer one day.
• Be active socially specially in the field of education of poor children.
• Have a huge library. (the kind The Beast gifted Beauty, in the animated movie The beauty and the Beast )
• Kill 3 politicians when I am on the verge of dying.

That’s a hell of a list. There are a few others. But it would be dangerous for my reputation if I put them on the blog. So, that’s it.

P.S. The post was inspired by Paritosh Gunjan’s bucket list on his blog. Take a look if u feel like.

Missing blogging...

For the last two months I have been missing blogging desperately. I had to be in office and there was just a single system with internet and I did not have an internet connection at home. Deoghar (my hometown) is bad when it comes to internet cafes. So, in short, I was dying to blog and ended up thinking of topics that I wanted to write. Rite now I am sitting here in my ex-hostel room (one of my juniors and also a wonderful friend lives in it now) and writing this post. And i am lost where to start, what to write.
I have always found it hard to express myself the exact way I want to. And that is why I am comfortable with poems. Its easier to express yourself there. You dont need to be precise, or specific. You just pour out words in the way you want to, and yet leave the feeling behind them to the reader. That is why i am absolutely in love with poems. You can relate every poem with yourself.
Yet, you know what, I feel really odd putting up poems for people to read. I think a lot before I let people read it. It makes me feel, what if people get to know what I really felt. Feelings are so personal. Feelings are something that you can never share, its just the incident that you share. Feelings can never have words. Because every word holds a different feel for every person. And its hard to communicate it. And this is one the biggest reasons why I keep deleting profiles and blogs. When I really feel out of the world, lonely, misunderstood I hate to think that somebody would be reading things that I penned down once. I know its odd... real odd. But it scares me.
And so... Poof !!! blogs deleted !!!
And when I come back to my normal self, the normal happy me.... I miss all of it. I miss my earlier blogs, I miss writing a new post. and for the last few months, I have been missing blogging.