A note from Teddy's diary

They come. They hug. They go.

 

I sit there with my arms stretched out, my sophisticated demeanour being the only factor differentiating me from a scarecrow...a constant smile pasted on my face like static on a television screen.

 

I listen to them when they want to speak. I speak when they want to listen. I wipe their tears when they cry and laugh with them when they are happy. I allow them to have me around when they are alone and need company. I allow them to keep me aside when they have others to give them company.

 

They say I am adorable. They say I am sweet. They say I am their best friend. Am I? Really?

 

Or...am I just a Teddy Bear?

 

Do they know that deep inside all the sponge, there is a heart? ... a heart pretty much like theirs? Do they realize...

 

that I can 'feel' as much as they do?

 

that I want them to listen to me as much as I listen to them?

 

that I want to hug and be hugged not just when they feel like, but also when I feel like?

 

that I cannot switch roles between a Teddy and a Punching Bag as and when people want me to?

 

that just because my black buttony eyes do not shed tears, it does not mean that I don't need a shoulder once in a while?

 

that I too want to be able to express my feelings and emotions when I feel like, without being like a petrified investor constantly monitoring the volatility of their emotional stock exchange?

 

that affection is neither for charity nor on sale?

 

that I want them to be my best buddies in the truest sense?

 

Do they realize? ... Will they ever realize? ... I don't know.

 

However, what I do know is that... I don't want to be a Teddy Bear anymore.

The Insane Gift

"Are you mad?" came the question. 

I had the insane gift. 

I was laughing my lungs out. "Are you mad?" came the question again. I had heard something which seemed very funny to me and I was having a hearty laugh. Almost ROFL. Though they found it funny too, they were of the opinion that there was a limit to laughter. I never knew there was a limit to laughter! Who ever set a limit to laughter? And when?

This scenario is not unusual though. I have heard my friends ask the same question. But now this gets me thinking. 

Try this or at least imagine ;-) ...

Go to a busy road nearby and stand in a corner and...cry. Wail if you wish to. What happens? People will rush to you inquiring about what happened. They will console you and sympathize. Even those passersby who have no clue of what is happening will stop by to sympathize. You seem to be a damsel in distress and that is normal...in alignment with our social norms.

Now, on a different day, go to the same road, to the same spot and start laughing. You can start with a giggle and ascend to a roaring laughter. What happens? People start staring at you. They become apprehensive and start whispering amongst themselves. They may ignore you if their senses permit, but you sure do run a risk of some of these people chasing you with sticks. You are insane. Or else, why would you laugh for no reason? 

Look at this ridiculous world. A world that tells you that, if you laugh too much, then you will cry the next day. What better way for the world to strangulate you mentally even before you start laughing?!

We are surrounded by people who complain and find opportunities to be sad even though they enjoy more privileges than most other people in this world. Sadness is accepted. People who sulk are comforted while those who laugh (apparently for no reason) are labeled insane. We all came with a license to be sad..right? Then why on earth should one laugh so much? After all, we were born crying.

Why do people find it so difficult to accept the fact that our Creator wishes us to be happy? Why do we measure our laughter in ounces even when we know that it is good for health? Why do we believe that tragedy is the truth of life and comedy is an imagination of storybook writers and film-makers? Why do we have to wait to become senior citizens, die more of boredom rather than cardiovascular problems and then start off laughing clubs to force some laughter out of ourselves in the name of therapy? 

"Are you mad?" comes the question again.

Maybe I am. Isn't it far better to be happy and be labeled as insane rather than keep whining all your life to be accepted and pseudo-sympathized by fellow whiners? 

Remember, O sane world..that many species other than humans can cry too. But none other than humans can laugh. Its a gift. 

Are you on a wild goose chase?



Rita Menon
Guest Author

After a lot many painful bad days of being in a conflict within myself…I figured, what I want in life. Is it easy for all of us to know what we actually want? Or what we think we want is a perception of what society wants us to have?

When we are young, out of school or college, all we want is a job. Once we have the job which gives us acceptance in the society or with the friends circle the next step is to get a wife or husband. Get settled, have a house, get married!! What would be the next transitional goal in this life you live? It’s an easy guess, Children and boom! You have lived a perfect life – job, family, house and of course, society’s acceptance.

Have you ever stopped and asked yourself what you really want? Leave aside the thought of being accepted by society. And just asked yourself, what do I really want in life?

All the things mentioned above are indeed a part of life, steps in the journey you call life. But these cannot be the end goal you try and reach. End goal should be happiness, whatever it takes to reach there.

Happiness is again tricky. What gives you happiness at a certain stage in life, will not continue to keep you happy all along. So how do gauge what will make you happy in the long run? Each one has their own take on what happiness is..depending on your upbringing, your friends, your family and the people who influence in this short life you have.

Solution, live life for the moment, pursue what you want to do.. What you think will be right and what will make you happy for that moment. The only question I ask myself in my impulsive decisions is - will I ever repent this? Will look back and say that ‘this was a bad decision’. If I I know the answer is no, I will do what I feel.

 

"I am so excited to have the first Guest Post on this blog. Let me introduce Ms.Rita Menon. Rita is a dear friend, a good conversationalist, a writer and when time permits, she works for an investment bank and currently resides in the US. Thank you so much Rita, for the cool conversations and this post. Looking forward to many more..."

                                                                                                                        - Unnikrishnan

Little something I never knew..

To,
   Someone who is dearer than 'Dearest'

I never believed in Magic. Now I do.
I never saw the beauty in poetry. Now I do.
I never knew for sure if souls connected. Now I do.
I never knew I could step out of the walls I built around myself. Now I do.
I never knew I could let time go by, waiting and not regret it. Now I do.
I never knew what it was to be fully alive. Now I do.
I never knew I could write this to you. Now I do.

I never knew it would be you. Now I do.

It is You.

Love Always,