Kids

Sitting by the play ground
I was munching on salted peanuts
A bunch of kids playing football

Little darlings all
clean tees and shorts
eager be muddied

There was the gifted
the one who could
dribble the ball

The other was a coach
would play less
and teach more

The morale booster
who could after a goal
cheer the team back into action

Not to mention the players
the ones who had to support the dribbler
listen to the coach and get cheered on by the booster

But as i sat and watched
two other kids caught my attention
and my eyes just didnt leave them

The elder one was a jostler
she had a sheepish smile, loads of energy
and kicked people on the shins

The other one was the awkward
he dribbled as badly as anyone could
wasnt really good at anything

These two kids, one despised by everyone
one left alone by everyone
were lost to themselves

Wondering what they had done wrong
what had they done wrong?
nothing...they were also kids


A few days ago a person i knew was talking about another person and all the bad that other person had done. I know both of these people to a different extent but I know both are nice people, both have bad things to say about each other.

An incident today and a very sad one about another person precipitated the thoughts into words

Its easy for us people to label each other as good or bad, as achievers or failures. We are all kids, all wanting to smile, laugh and be happy, we have our own ways, sometimes we hurt each other, sometimes we get lost; but in the end, we are all trying to dribble the ball as best as we can...just because we each play a different way we shouldn't miss the point...we are all kids...we all want to smile, laugh and be happy

Confessions of a Shopaholic

So after months of having it on my laptop I finally saw this piece of work.

The joyful expression of shopping (a good tutorial for men who don't understand why women like to shop), the jealous desire of winning your man before he gets ensnared by the charms of a conniving bimbo, the addictive plight of today's youth wanting to live a life beyond their means, of a person making her career, of achieving what nobody thought u could.

The movie beautifully weaves all of this into one tale...'the girl with the green scarf'
And that is where the movie really starts, its not about brands or money or the lack of it, or romance...its about having a perspective.

"Rebecca Bloomwood: When I was 7 most of my friends stopped believing in magic. That's when I first started. They were beautiful, they were happy. They didn't even need any money, they had magic cards. "

When I was 7 I realized that we really didn't have a lot of money...dad was in the army, mom was a school teacher. I didn't buy too many novels, never bought a cassette tape till I was in 11th, every thing was a debate between cost and worth. Not like it was a hard life, we had all sorts of fruits and vegetables in the fridge, we wore shiny new uniforms to school, but it wasn't a life of luxury either. I grew up one of those who wonders what the people inside those big cars and hotels must be like. Those suits in fine fabric, custom tailored for the gentlemen, shoes shining like they have a invisible layer of water on them, the expensive glasses with ice swirling the dark portion.

It was a mystery, yes...

I've been to those five star buildings now, have swirled the ice and smoked the cuban cigars (and I mean cuban)...not like I've reached the eptiome of luxury either, I get my suits custom tailored, but they aren't cut in Savile Row...I don't dress, eat or kill like James Bond (goes without saying I don't look like him either). Even though i have been through those very halls it still is pretty much of a mystery to me...for me even now the question of cost vs. worth comes up.

But somewhere between when I was 7 and today I got to know a secret that people inside those buildings quite often find themselves clueless about...where does one find happiness?

Happiness is found at the dinner table...in a warm house, with warm food, where you share the tensions, the fights, the joys and the sorrows together.

Once you have that it is immaterial if you are eating Dal Bukhara or maa di daal (same thing diff names), whether your shorts are from tommy hilfiger or the imitation nike sold on the road side....

Once you have that.

-The Sanely Insane