Nail-ed it!

She stepped on the escalator, scanning her grocery list in her mind, trying to figure out if she’d missed listing anything important. Lost in a wave of thoughts, her eyes fell on the woman behind her. She was dressed in a crisp blue suit, her hair prepped and beautifully set, her curls falling softly on her shoulders. She looked at her slender hand, holding the sides artistically. Her nails looked stunning, nicely shaped, manicured and neat. Suddenly, she looked at her own. Unevenly chipped nails, with stains of green peeking from underneath. The veggies’ sap must have seeped in, she thought. She quickly slid them under her dupatta. She was embarrassed; she could feel her cheeks flush hot, she could feel them turning into a shade of crimson.

She never grew nails, for she wouldn’t be able to knead the dough for rotis. She couldn’t pamper herself to manicures; not because she couldn’t afford one, but because she couldn’t maintain them. Everytime she chopped veggies, the knife would come threateningly close to ruining it.

Suddenly, she felt something. No, she didn’t feel sorry. She felt good. Her half-chipped nails, her flour stained t-shirts, her hair tied into an unkempt bun -- they were all worth the smiles and the burps that her culinary experiments resulted in. She didn’t need manicures to pamper herself; the empty plates and satisfied smiles nailed it for her!

It’s a scary world out there...

It’s funny how people change in a split second. It’s like, they’re all sweet and stuff and whoa! Gone. It’s like a magic trick, where the magician puts a rabbit on display, in front of the packed auditorium. And suddenly, pooof! It vanishes into thin air. Sweetness and goodness vanish these days too. People snub you, keep stern faces and look perpetually irritated. It’s shocking, you know, annoying too. It’s just like walking blindfolded on a bustling street -- what you think is a safe zone for walking isn’t really like that. You never know when a speeding truck is about to ram into you, kill you and then speed off like nothing happened. I worry. Unpredictability scares me. Unexpected reactions scare me even more. It’s a scary world out there, alright, but what makes the world scary, is the scariest part.

Holy Cow!

***The street is abuzz, with thousand glimmering lights dotting the skyline. Incessant honking, curses flying freely and tempers soaring mark the night. Amidst this chaos, I notice a cow, trying it’s best to carry a sack full of stuff on its back, dragging its legs as fast as it can. The honking intensifies, with people rolling down their car windows and yelling at the poor animal. Its owner makes a sheepish face, as he becomes the magnet of curses, doing everything he can to drag the cow faster, while dodging the scorning eyes that are burning him with their gazes. The cow struts on, at its own leisurely pace, the owner bows his head and shields himself on its side. The people on the streets are irritated and rightly so; the cow has unknowingly caused a major traffic snarl, leading to a lot of inconvenience. However, there is not much that the cow itself can do; the burden on its back is slowing it down. Meanwhile, the owner is torn between the angry people, who are right in their own way, and his cow, whose plight he can understand, but can do very little to help...***

Cut to our own lives. There are times when we dwell in the past, carrying it’s baggage on our backs like the cow. The baggage pulls us down, refusing to let go from its clutches. We hunch, slow down and at times stop, without realising the menace we are being to people around; people who watch the show and hurl abuses. Our near and dear ones, meanwhile, dangle between sensibility and sensitivity, unable to make a rational decision. Yes, in keeping pace with us, they slow down too, they stop too, answering the thousand prying eyes that have questions aplenty.

They know what we are doing is illogical and the spectators are on their money, but seeing us suffer and die a slow death kills them too. In the battle between protecting us from the reprimanding and unapproving ‘others’ and pushing us to shed the baggage, it is our close ones who are bruised the most.

Unlike the cow on the road that had no way of helping itself, we can make an effort. Like my friend explained, there are four categories of thoughts -- positive, negative, waste and common. While the positives ones are good and oh-so-welcome, the negative ones aren’t that bad either; they help us be prepared for the worst. However, as soon as we start indulging in negative thoughts from our past, they qualify for the third category which is waste. As long as our negative thoughts concern our future, there is something that can be done. But, as soon as they board the time machine to the past, they will ruin us, harming people around us with their diabolic sting.

It’s best to move on; shed the baggage and feel light...outside and within. Let our hearts and minds be a clean slate, imbibing the positive scribblings and rubbing off the negatives. It’s only then that we can live life, breathe easy and not create snarls anywhere.

Yes, a ‘holy’ cow taught me this. All of this! :)