The Soulful Atom

Soulful, the word itself sounds peaceful and calming and in control doesn't it? Atleast for me it does. As you must've noticed I've changed the blog name and link as well, so an explanation is in order. Also to mark this day as the beginning of transformation. I started The Unstable Atom back in 2008. It was a child of some tough times I was going through and I wanted to make a point. This journey of unstable to soulful hasn't been a long one, or maybe it has. Though the realization is a fairly recent one. After 11 odd years here I am at the cusp of something new again. And this new isn't external as it was back then, this is something completely internal to me. And though many times before I've said I will change or I need to change, its not happened until today that i've taken a stand so as to even change my online identity. The impressions i have made on people in real life will take time to change. Of course even i can't claim to have changed completely, but the transition has started. So for people to understand it, its going to take quite some time, specially since most are judgmental and end up making fixed images of others n their minds. For example, earlier i used to be worried and used to have a frown on my face and people used to ask me why i look worried. Now i do have a frown on my face or have a straight face most times but thats cause I'm deeply engrossed in some thought and i generally have a straight face. but people still ask me why I'm worried. I guess it will take time.
The journey was long due, but what really sprouted it was a very specific incident that made me realise i might end up losing someone or even if not that person maybe someone else dear to me down the line. It jolted me to reality of my actions that people around me used to brush under the carpet. I used to think they understand me, and definitely they do, but this cycle of being unstable and then understood ended up being toxic for me cause i used to think its ok to be this way. But this one incident made me realise its not ok! And that i have to change.
They say a person who loves you accepts you as you are. But thats not necessarily true. A person who truly loves you will make sure you become better.

However I've strayed. I would probably post some more details about this journey later but it is a journey i take on a daily basis. Changing my online identity is one of the many steps towards a better and soulful me. :)
I hope you will still be by me on this one. Don't worry the fun and madness will still remain.. ;) we will have fun still...

BP and CP are alive and well :D BP is thrilled and CP seems to be saying something vaguely to the tune of "i told you so" i've no idea why! but I've a feel that both BP and CP know this path better than me.. and i'm glad! :)

He sat at the bar. Moustache and all, white as snow, fluffy as a rabbit. He sat sipping a draught beer, peering at the menu. Suddenly riddled by a bout of sneezes, his typical roof-shattering sneezes. He then switched his attention to the phone, trying to figure out the contraption through his glasses, that he had to put on since a few years now. He had never thought he would ever be a victim of these, but she always knew. She teased him by fantasizing about how he would look wearing them, and how he would squint when he had to read something without wearing them.

She watched him quietly, from a table full of lively friends, a bit too lively at the moment. She wondered if he would notice her too. He seemed to occupied in his phone as she stared at him hard, willing him to look up. Her eyes bore into his balding head (as it always was), she never knew why he bothered growing the scant hair. She liked him bald. She’d like him any way he looked. He put his phone aside without looking up and turned to his beer. Again staring in the distance, as if he could see beyond the panels of the bar. She got irritated. It took her by surprise, she had stopped getting irritated at minor things since a while. But then again this isn’t small, a small voice told her. Running into him here like this. Well they had not technically run into each other yet. She wondered how she should play this out. Or shall she let the heavens decide. Maybe the latter since her way never really worked with him or maybe with anyone. So she shifted her gaze back to her table, where people, by now semi-drunk, were laughing their heads off at some silly joke. She will let the heaves take a call. The small voice smiled, inaudibly, but she knew it smiled. She would wait. Like she had waited all these years, unknowingly.

I’m leaving bits of me around. One day I will be found, sprinkled like stardust, sparkling like diamonds in your memories.

She sat at the table with a friend. They had ordered some red wine or perhaps some sangria. They seemed to be having a good time, laughing and chatting. They’ve been here for some time now, thought its still the first drink. Maybe they aren’t close friends. Maybe they are getting there. They're probably not friends. The effects of age and/or fatigue are visible on one face. She is trying to be in the moment but there is something eating at her. Perhaps she wanted to be someplace else, not tonight but for most part of her life. Maybe she is bitter now, trying hard not to be, because she isn't inherently so. The other one seems to be happier, bubbly. As if she has got control over her life, made peace with her struggles. She talks happily, animatedly. I don’t understand why she hasn’t taken the bag off her shoulder yet though. It does seem to be weighing down on her, but neither one seems to have noticed that. Maybe she always keeps it on her shoulder, like a constant companion. Maybe it soothes her, lets her know she isn't alone. Holding all of her secrets, all her whims and fancies, all the pieces of her broken heart taped together some unwillingly, some forcibly with tears and grit and sometimes just plain resolve.

It was a small café. It boasted of six tables on the ground floor and four on the top with the singles bar at the balcony. The glass door and windows at the entrance on the ground floor were set in dark brown frames and had fresh white curtains made of satin. Which at the moment were rolled away to the sides and tied with soft red wool. They were probably unfurled in summer afternoons to stop the harsh sunlight from coming in, or maybe they were just there for décor. Nonetheless they granted a homely feeling to the café. It was one of her favorites in the city of dreams, Mumbai. The other one was right besides which served delicious Srilankan curry with fish but didn’t afford the luxury of sitting for hours together as it was always crowded with people waiting to be seated and served.
She had taken some time off from being in the same city as her family and friends and wanted to be someplace no one knew her. To be surrounded by strangers. She sat and wrote, whatever that came to her mind. It was a peaceful day, the first week of the new year. She smiled as she thought of the year that went by and was tickled by the thought of what would lie ahead. She was always excited looking ahead, thinking, imagining. A sudden image flew past across her day dreaming eyes and it left her gasping for breathe. She had to clutch her chest and rub her eyes and for a brief instance. It had been such a long time since she felt that thinking of that face! And why would she see him now out of nowhere!! He wasn't even connected to this city in anyway. Their bond was from someplace else! Could it be that thinking of the future brought these thoughts to her? She wondered somewhat scared n then smiled shaking her head. The thought seemed to melt away with that shake, but she knew it was deeply rooted in her very being. That was love in its truest sense. Even though there weren't together as being together goes in the literal sense, they would always be together in their hearts.
This cafe seemed to the perfect place for this. Watching the passers-by and wondering about what their lives must be like instead of thinking about the mess that her life was for a change. So many people, so many lives, so many thoughts.. Her mind buzzed with crammed thoughts and emptied at the same time as the sun slowly sunk behind the high-rise buildings leaving a warm glow in its aftermath.

There should be one.
A way out.
So that we can remain whole.
A way out of a heart-break or before it actually breaks, or even after its broken before we end up breaking our souls.
Even though they say something better can come after something breaks.
Or atleast there should be a way out to be able to patch ourselves up without the melancholy.
A way out so we can heal.
Because no matter how much we think we have healed and moved on. Those broken parts always stay. Because there is no way out.

"Everyone is sad, if you can just watch. Everyone tries to find their little corner of paradise. Help each other. Let’s make life and the world a little better. Let us be gentle with the hearts and the souls. If anything they are the ones who need the kindness. We are all bruised." I wrote this one in French waiting for a metro in Paris, slightly tipsy from some wine/beer I can't remember. I can’t remember where we were going either but I do remember seeing people around me, and for me people everywhere look the same. They have the same look in their eyes. Everyone is waiting for acknowledgement or acceptance and yet they don’t want to be obvious about it. Maybe they are shrouded by assumption and conditioning of not letting their weaknesses/desires show. And for good measure too. Not everyone is kind, sadly, even though our souls know the truth, the unkind ones are also under illusions or conditioning which leads them to be unkind. Most of the times they are the ones who have never seen kindness offered to them in life. They are probably the ones needing it the most. The more I travel, the more people I meet or see, the more this belief gets stronger: we are all the same, give and take a few traits.

I’m struggling so much conditioning and pressure of social constructs right now in life and I cannot imagine what people must be going through. I think i can now look at an emotion and recognize the root of it. But the people who don’t recognize these things, and those who aren’t strong enough to fight these things, I wonder what they must be feeling. Maybe nothing? Cause they go with the flow, thinking that's what they are meant to do or that its the right thing to do. Its always easier isn’t it. To fit-in in the already molded life. Everyone knows the ropes, help is at hand even if they go to any new place with new people. Everyone will know how to handle pre-set social constructs. For people like me, it’s a thin line, specially at the stage that I’m at. A very thin line of falling over. If the pain gets overwhelming people will choose to escape. This is where your strength, your person, your respect for your individuality comes into picture. When I argue about this, people tell me this is what they wanted to be a part of pre-set notions. But how do you know? You haven’t tried or even given anything else a thought, let alone a chance. You have always been afraid! Yes it’s a gamble to go on the path less traveled, but isn’t it worth it? To be your own person, to not be a slave to anything whatsoever? If nothing else you will atleast have made an informed choice.. Some people behave as if they have no choice. Even i have some times. But thats not the case. We always have a choice.

So, I got a new bike last year. A proper bike with gears and the works. It has been my dream since I was in college, rather it was budding since I was in school and hormones had started coming on. I’ve been riding a moped, a 110 CC non-geared model since 12 years. But hen right before i turned 30th i had this brainwave and decided I have to get a bike before i turned 30th, and I got this one right one day before my 30th birthday! This is a 200cc, 23 bhp and all that, which is basically a big jump from the approx. 8 bph baby I had. This was my first ever time to properly be able to use a bike, navigate city traffic etc, it felt a bit daunting to do something like this at the age of 30 when you are mostly all set in your ways including the way your muscles function! But it was thrilling nonetheless. Then I realised that no matter how much I felt like revving it up and bursting full throttle I was a wee bit scared of losing it. Its easy to let thrill and adrenaline let you get carried away. But then I got wiser.
One day I was riding my new baby back home from work, the road wasn’t too crowded and I was cruising at a standard speed. Then this moped overtakes me riding zigzag full speed, for a minute I thought they would just slip and crash but thankfully they didn’t. I’m usually very easily indulge in road-rage and I ride my non-geared baby like crazy (maybe even just like those people who overtook me) however, in that moment there, I was not tempted one bit. I knew I could’ve easily overtook them in a display of domination which I used to do as a kid with a new bike. But somehow I didn’t feel the need for it. It was as if having a bike with higher power and knowing its power, was enough. I didn’t need to display it. It was for me to indulge in when I wanted to, not when I was provoked. I think the same goes with age. As you age or “gain numbers”, you do become wiser (of course if you let the experiences and knowledge seep in and make something of it). Cause for most of the things, you’ve been there done that. You will still have that old you with you, the carefree one, lesser responsibilities (read power) but you will now know what greater responsibilities do if not handled correctly. Its interesting to dabble in power and realise the responsibility it brings on your own. I wonder how is it that people get so drunk on power to ruin everything for themselves and/or others. For me, having that power is good enough, the show of power is unnecessary, unless required.

His eyes were of molten khaki with a ting of green.

They crinkled a little bit when he flaunted that broad patent smile of his. It was even more bright tonight. They had met like that only the second time. This time around too they were surrounded by people.
She looked at him fondly. He wasn’t really her type, but she indulged him. He brought her some kind of peace. A very different kind than she craved or ever had or ever even wanted. There was warmth in his eyes, that of innocence, though he was a grown man. Not boyish, just innocent, untouched. These were the eyes that hadn’t known the ravaging of love. Perhaps that’s why they brought her that kind of peace and she didn’t know what to do about it. She didn’t feel like running away nor did she feel like possessing it.
They didn’t need solitude, they didn’t need each other’s bodies, neither to touch nor to possess. The eyes were enough and then there were words and beyond that there were silences.. The much loved silences.

--

It was a year after. They had gone their separate ways, as was always intended. And then they met again. He insisted. Almost exactly a year. It was nice to see him, he loved seeing her. But something had changed. He was the same, and he always will be; maybe she wasn’t anymore. Over the growing years he had made peace with himself, with the kind of person he was. Maybe that is where his eyes got the sheen that they always had. But she was still struggling, still exploring herself and surprising herself with each new thing she found. It made her wonder how were people so satisfied with themselves or had they already found everything within them? Do they never change, rather do they not find new things or perspective even about the same old things? She wondered. She wondered if her eyes showed this mad struggle she underwent each moment. Now that she was robbed of the peace she got from him, she wondered how he looked at her eyes. His touch didn’t excite her anymore. Somehow she could see through the witty remarks that had so attracted her to him earlier. His eyes however were the same. They still shone and sparkled. She smiled in wonder. She tried to indulge him but couldn’t. He probably noticed it. It was hard not to notice things she wanted you to know, cause she made them very obvious. Here however, she wanted to be gentle. She didn’t want to be the one who would strip those molten khaki eyes of their innocence. Though thinking about it later, long after they had said their goodbyes, she thought maybe no one will be able to do it. Because, probably, it was there knowingly. Maybe with a lot of effort. The choice to view the world with innocence, wonder, freshness and unbiasedness. They may not meet again the same way but she smiled as she felt the same kind of peace washing over her once more. He was the one with those molten khaki eyes, with a ting of green.