One of my friends complained that it’s been two weeks since my last post. Shame on me. I’ve been busy. I’ve been running around. I’ve been….I’m out of excuses. Truth is I had a small case of writer’s block. Actually, in this book for writers I read (well skimmed through) I read that ‘writer’s block’ is just writers being lazy. If you have the talent, then creativity and material are just a step away. Just need to get up off your bum and ‘hone your craft’. Writing, like any other sport, hobby, talent, passion, etc. must be actively practiced if any results wish to be seen. SO here I am practicing…whilst jamming to my much beloved Bollywood music. Speaking of Bollywood *does pseudo-garba/giddha dance* Moving on..
I absolutely adore Indian music. It is as essential to my life as the very air I breathe. I can literally find an Indian song for EVERY mood I’m in. The music never fails to propel me into a world comprised perfectly of melodies, lyrics, and feelings that would be incomplete without each other. The ‘item numbers’ have me unconsciously doing a jig in my seat imaging myself to be the bodacious babe turning heads with my sweet and scintillating hips. The absolutely perfect ‘love songs’ make my heart yearn like a love-struck teenager at my balcony waiting for my true love to whisk me away through the cornfields (we have a lot of those in India) and into the monsoon (because sunsets are so cliche). The ‘broken-heart’ songs make my entire being well with emotion so profound that I can hear the teardrops of pain hit the ground and create cracks in the seemingly smooth and impenetrable surface of love.
A palette of human emotion is achieved by one genre of music; Indian music has the ability to evoke nostalgia, love, hurt, laughter, anger, and excitement. I can still remember what I was feeling when I hear certain songs that are near and dear to my heart. It’s a mind boggling experience to be in the present moment at one minute, and then to be catapulted to the past and run head on right into frenzied emotions that were thought to be at bay. It’s nostalgia at its finest. And I wouldn’t change it for the world.
As for the supposed ‘writer’s block’…he and the one-eyed-one-horned-flying-purple-people-eater can galavant off into the horizon. I have my music to keep me motivated. So long as words and music surround me, I shall find a way to ramble on about one thing or another that happens to catch my fancy.
Words and music =art.
Today I finished re-reading a book that I absolutely adore. My best friend gave it to me along with Fefe Dobson’s first album six years ago, and I have yet to tire of either present. “Born Confused” by Tanuja Desai Hidier is my personal haven. Her characters touch my heart every time and her vivid use of the English language leaves me speechless and in awe. The main character, Dimple, deals with confusion: cultural, personal, and in friendship. While musing over mine and Dimple’s confused state, I came up with the poem below.
Muddled emotions running a muck,
Unwanted feelings I wish to pluck.
Chasing ideas around in my head,
Visiting places I wished never to tread.
Thoughts once buried are coming alive,
Forgotten opinions resurface after a long dive.
What is right and what is wrong, I do not know,
The difference, it seems, is all just show.
With unfocused eyes I lay in my bed,
Thinking of all the things people have ever said.
Millions of truths, lies, and dares,
Come to life in a moment so beautiful and rare.
Naiveté stems from what we do not know,
What a novel idea to let the mind flourish and grow.
Stop focusing on thoughts and emotions inside,
And let new feelings and ideas roll in with the tide.
There is no such thing as feeling too much,
But do not use the past as a crutch.
Bring new ideas in, and get rid of the old,
For life, is supposed to be lovely and bold.
Have you ever noticed how different emotions can affect people?
For one person, failure can be the boost necessary to kick one’s life into full force. For another, failure can be the final straw sending that person down a dismal and lonely tunnel. Happiness can cause some to rejoice and thank God for their good fortune, but Happiness can also cause jealousy, malice, and ultimately a most horrible betrayal. There is one emotion however, that trumps every other: Love.
Love is the emotion that makes people believe in fairy tales. It’s the emotion that is responsible for hundreds of thousands of books, movies, music, etc. Love endured empires being built and destroyed, countries ravaging each other in the name of religion, and a time and age where suspicion is easily roused. Love is what everyone is looking for…whether or not they like to admit it.
That feeling that comes with love, the one that makes you feel insecure and unsure, like there’s a gross pit in the bottom of your stomach that won’t stop churning making you feel like you’re going to hurl. Vulnerability. It is the absolute worst possible feeling ever. Being vulnerable means trusting someone else completely, maybe more than you trust yourself. It means letting someone in; letting them into your heart. I think there’s a reason God created a ribcage around the heart (besides the obvious reasons); To remind us to be cautious of who we allow to get comfy in the crevices of our most prized possession. Nevertheless we fall in love, hurdle through the different torturous levels of vulnerability, and somehow manage to get out alive.
“Love is not love until love’s vulnerable”
Human emotions are incredibly complex and fascinating, and they do a right job of making people topsy turvy and inside out…especially that silly love one. It’s the most dangerous and deceptive of all. It’s the emotion capable of causing all others; happiness, sadness, failure, rejection, excitement, lust, and joy. Like I said in a previous ramble:
“Love, was, is, and always will be God’s greatest gift and most painful curse.”