I wrote this particular article two weeks back, except that the end just did not seem right to me. It was as if I was waiting for the right end to come along to me…And come along it did…
Back in Mangalore, I read about a 3 day retreat happening in Pune the following weekend. The moment I read about it, I just knew it that I had to go for it. I dint know why but a voice inside me kept asking me to.The next thing was to break the news to dear father, which was not an easy thing. Parents are really funny creatures. When you are out late, partying and having fun, they might have a problem with you. But one fine day, decide to tell them that you are planning to go for a 3 day meditation retreat, be very scared. They will flip and do all sorts of emotional drama to stop you (on account of them fearing that you will turn into a hippie.). Anyway, all that emotional drama did not work on me and the very next day after returning from Mangalore, I was off to the ashram. During the retreat, I did a lot of eating, and praying and loving. And that’s when the end to this article came to me. So here is my article with the much awaited ending in tow.
‘Im in a bus on an impromptu visit to Mangalore-one of those trips where I got like 5 minutes to pack my bag-nothing to feel adventurous about –I’d rather get like a week in hand. I’m quite obsessive that ways.
Night journeys can be quite boring. I can’t read, I can’t listen to music because of the TV blaring and I’ve already spent around 40 minutes listening to my co-passenger and her now settled childrens’ life story. So here I was, condemned to watch any movie the bus drivers thought best for us! The last time I went to Mangalore, they decided to culturally sensitize us by forcing us to watch a Kannada movie. This time, we were lucky enough to be watching a Hindi movie. Turns out, the movie for the night wasKuch Kuch Hota Hai. For all those ignorant people out there, the above mentioned is not a semi-porn, but an extremely celebrated movie in India.
In my head I go, “Oh no! Not again!” But soon, I started watching the movie and got engrossed in it like never before. I felt like I was watching the movie for the very first time.
That’s when a funny yet real thought struck me- we all relate to movies and movies are inspired from real life, sometimes even the other way round. Each time we watch a movie, we tend to relate to it in a different way, depending on the life experiences we’ve had.
The last time I saw Kuch kuch hota hai, I had this utopian picture of what love was, which only strengthened after the movie ended. I had this rosy picture of love, where my prince charming would come along, sweep me off my feet and of course, needless to say, we would live happily ever after!
This time, however, when I saw the movie, I did relate to it, but very differently. This time I had been through the love found and the love lost experience-something which was never a part of my life’s movie script.There were instances during the movie when I heard myself cursing the hero for being so cheesy and corny with the girl… At this point I started predicting all the absurd reasons why he would eventually decide to break up with her (talk about relatedness!) I realized I had become this cynic who might not be able to ever fit love into those categories of things which are nice, happy and pink.
The movie ended on a cynical note for me that night. However, when I was at the retreat, I read a very touching break up story, which talked about how we tend to make comparisons and generalize things and people after a bitter break up, how we become cynical about love and in the process perhaps lose out on another chance to find true love. Perhaps, that very break could be the best thing that’s ever happened to you!
Life’s all a game of connecting dots…The events in our life always connect when you look back at them. Of course, the dots connect backwards, never forwards. So if your stories similar to mine, or perhaps worse, keep the faith…if you lack faith, you will have to pray for faith. But to pray, you need faith! That’s the paradox of life…’