Skip to main content

Gut-wrenching Want

Today, I'm wanting. I'm wanting so bad, I can feel it with an intensity that makes my hands tremble as I type this, that keeps my stomach churning at super-sonic pace and keeps me unable to focus on anything else. The kind of wanting that has you reaching out to take, barely able to control yourself.

It's rare to be presented with an opportunity like the one I've just received and if everything goes the way it ideally should, it will be a once in a lifetime experience and that's why I'm so worried and anxious.


If I don't receive it though, I know that a tiny part of me will splinter and die. Perhaps I'm being overly dramatic, maybe I'm not. I don't know. I have wonderful family and friends and I know that they will always be there to support me. But I also know what a solitary creature I am and how my deepest wounds are only aired in private. That I rarely ask for help, I ask for prayers, for good thoughts, but rarely to be helped.

Anyway, back to the wanting. It's dancing around me now, even as I work on stories to be filed and choose pictures to be placed in magazines, it's there, pushed away to the back of my mind, but constantly buzzing.

I don't even know why I'm putting this on here. I don't feel better for it, I don't feel calmer. Except I know that I need to. To have this in black and white, to look back at and marvel over, or to wince and hurriedly move on.

I find out today... About the wanting and about myself.

"I've come to know that what we want in life is the greatest indication of who we really are."
Richard Paul Evans

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Remembering Avanti

Day before yesterday, on the 8th of November 2008, Avanti Desai would have turned 21. Instead 15 days before her birthday, as she hurried home to celebrate her grandmother's birthday, Avanti met with a train accident at Jogeshwari station.

Just like that. Gone from our lives forever. Leaving behind a huge void and the world a lot more gloomier.

And when I got the call first thing in the morning, I couldn't believe it. I thought it was a cruel sadistic joke, but as the calls kept coming in, I realised it was true. Even at the cemetary,, it still hadn't sunk in that Avanti was no longer here. The worst moment though was watching her disappear into the crematorium, it was horrible and I couldn't believe we were leaving her there, and through the next couple of hours all I could think of was of her going up in smoke while we stood there in the bright sunshine.

It seemed incomprehensible at first, to think of Avanti as dead, to talk about her in the past tense, to get used…

Wanderlust Part Deux

I came across this in a Danielle Steele book. Who said you can't get anything good out of those books? One of my favourite poems and one I read virtually every time I get the urge to travel.

Wander, wander,
wandering
meandering,
the urge to roam,
to dance,
to fly,
to be,
the search for
free,
the need to see
to go
to find
to search
to do,
my thirsts
so easily quenched
so close to home
and yours so grand,
so elegant,
so marvelous,
climbing mountaintops
and elephants
and tiger hunts
and dancing bears
and far off stars
and trips to mars
and all of it
so wild,
so vast,
so free,
as you go wander,
wander,
wandering,
and then the best
part of all
when, satisfied,
complete,
and happy now,
you wander
slowly
home
to me.

The Roaring Twenties

So here I am on the eve of my 30th birthday, my very last day of being 29, just about 4 hours left of being a twenty-something.

A couple of years ago, I remember snidely chuckling away to myself, when a favourite blogger of mine turned 30, believing that it was so far away, it could never touch me. I'm regretting that now.

And to be honest, I thought I would be okay, I really honestly truly believed that I would be greeting this new decade with a casual insouciance and indifference that would normally be characteristic for me, but I'm not. I'm terrified of how quickly my twenties have zoomed by and how little I've accomplished and perhaps that is what is upsetting me.

On the cusp of another decade on this planet, well, I feel like a bit of a failure. No, scratch that, I feel majorly like a failure. I'm drowning in self-pity and anguish at wasted opportunities, at thrown-away chances, at my inherent laziness and procrastination, at my never-ending ability to put of…