"I Believe."

"I believe. Do you believe? Or, may be you just don't wish to believe, or you think believing is nonsense. "

Alright ... alright. Enough of my cryptic stupidity. Here is yet another blog-post, that derives its inspiration from yet another movie (gosh...I never knew that I was drawn so much by movies). This time its the movie 'The Polar Express'.

Those of you who have no idea what the movie is, continue reading... the rest can skip this paragraph. Well "The Polar Express" is a animation movie about this kid who like many of us acts smart, and says there is no Santa Claus and does not believe in any of those mythical characters related to Christmas. On the night of Christmas Eve, he is awoken by a glittering train that stops righ tin front of his house and he steps into it to be taken to the North Pole to see Santa Claus, or at least that's what he was told though he still didn't believe it. On reaching the North Pole he finds thousands of children who had been brought there by this train and the place was so filled with merriment and excitement about seeing Santa Claus and receiving their Christmas gifts. The clock struck 12 and the sound of Santa's sleigh and tinkering of bells was heard by all... all but our little hero. He wondered why this was happening to him and when every body was able to finally catch a glimpse of Santa, this guy is still not able to see him. Now he gets desperate and disappointed, and there he wishes he'd be able to see Santa. He closes his eyes and says "I believe he exists", and all of a sudden he was able to hear the tinkering bells of Santa's sleigh and opened his eyes to see Santa standing right in front of him. Then he is safely brought back home and is back in bed to wake up for a whole new christmas experience. He and his little sister run to the X-mas tree to open their presents. The movie ends with the kid and his little sister jumping in excitement for they were able to hear the tinkering of bells, while their parents retort by saying "They do not hear anything." (I apologize to the writers, directors and producers of the movie or anyone who knows the story, for screwing up any facts in this narration, but I guess the essence of the movie captured is right.)

Most of us, especially the geeky ones overshadowed by technology and the philosophical ones who are so lost in figuring everything out, are like the little boy. We just do not want to believe in things because their is no fact, or concrete evidence behind them or just because it sounds so childish and stupid or very simply because, we have grown up and we just know that it doesn't exist (even worse are the ones who believe but do it secretly for they do not want to look stupid). In being so we miss the small joys and the little thrills of life. We get overly analytical or overly skeptical of even the simplest things.

To all those non-believers out there: just shed your halos of wisdom or your fake masks of knowledge just once, and feel how pretty things get when u become a believer. You don't lose much (in fact, you lose nothing) when u think there is a protective fairy taking care of you. Just the thought of it, actually makes me feel good and cared for. You don't lose much, when you believe that there exists a world of magic where things just happen with the whisk of a wand. It only stretches my imagination and kindles my creativity (And btw, I love HARRY POTTER!). You don't lose much when you believe in miracles that are one day going to wipe out all misery and fill the world with joy. It only fills my heart with hope and makes me eager to be a part of a better tomorrow. And when you feel over stressed on a day, it is ok to call out to your favorite genie for help. It will only make you feel better and confident when you know that you have some help to get you through your tasks. (I could go on in a different direction at this point, but trying not to get into religious arguments... but I guess you get my point ;))

So let your imaginations go wide, unleash the child in you to feel excited about things and know that it is ok to "Believe" if it makes you feel better about yourself and about this life and everything about life. And for all those lazy bums who think that a fairy is going to take care of their work and a miracle would happen and magically finish up all their responsibilities, I wish to say "BELIEVE RESPONSIBLY!"

Ruby & Me

Well... from the title you can make out that I am yet another highly sentimental soul who cried over Marley's death in the movie "Marley & Me" and when words can't express enough of my grief I resort to writing a blog. (Pls don't think that I am using my blog as a 'Mourning Ground'. I promise my next blog will be on a happy note.)

Ruby (a white pomeranian pup) came to our home when she was about a year and a half old, as her previous owner didn't care for her anymore. Even though she was a very cute pup she was not my favourite because of her angry snarl and her unfriendly bark. I can describe her as a pretentiously serene pup with a highly intimidating air. I preferred our other pet Julie (a chocolate brown labrador) who on the other hand was a pretentiously intimidating (she was huge with a brilliant bark) dog with a highly serene air. My dad used to say that, the new place and the new people actually scared Ruby. A child myself I retorted by saying "She doesn't seem to act like she is scared. It looks more like she wants to scare us." Needless to say that, I kept myself as far away from her as possible.

As days passed, she became more adapted to the new place. She became less unfriendly, but she was the funniest little thing. We used to have a huge fenced area surrounding our home (veterinary university quarters), and a lot of people would be found walking around, like college students, staff, veterinary hospital visitors and workers. Ruby would bark at everyone who walks by. She would start barking from the beginning of the fence (she would be inside the fence and they outside it) at someone who dared to walk close enough to it, follow them along the fence barking till she reaches a point where she cannot follow them anymore. Then she would go back again to the beginning of the fence and start the same with someone else. It was so hysterical and she had amazing energy. She would never get tired.

There is a reason why I decided to make this blogpost "Ruby & me" rather than "Julie & Me" though I used to like Julie a lot. Now... No laughing at what I am about to say, but this is true. "There was good chemistry between us". As Ruby grew she became less weird and she was strangely very attracted to me. It was like she knew me and she was utterly devoted to me. We were like the nursery rhyme "Mary and the little Lamb", just that instead of a lamb it was a dog and instead of Mary it was me, and of course I didn't let her follow me to school (now it doesn't sound too much like the rhyme, after all these exclusions) . Ruby knew the time I came back from school or college. Even if I were late by several hours she would not leave that place till I am back home. And all this waiting was just for a pat or rub that I would give her once I returned. She even cried when I cried and gave me a shoulder to cry on when I needed one sometimes. When I studied she was always by my side although I had a annoying way of studying very loudly as if I was lecturing someone. Ruby always was a very attentive student during my lectures :). I would look her in the eye when I recite and she would continue to look back at me even if it was the most boring subject. My mom used to say "May be the way you study sounds like dog-talk".

The unacceptable aspect of having such a faithful all-time following dog was I cannot play hide and seek. All that my brother had to do to find me when I was hiding was to let Ruby out of her shed and follow her till she traces me down through her senses. I used to hate her for that (but, now it is all so funny and quite endearing at the same time). I never understood why she liked me so much. I wasn't the one who fed her, my mom did. I wasn't the one who took her out, my dad did. I can't remember petting her for more than a minute a day or even noticing her when she was looking all eagerly at me.

She passed away when I was away from home. I felt bad when I came to know of it, but I didn't shed a tear (How insensitive of me!) . I didn't miss her incredibly either, though I was at a slight feeling of loss. But it was this weekend while watching this movie that it all came back to me. I remembered Ruby through every scene of the movie and at the end of the movie when I cried I wasn't sure what I was crying so much for. Was it for Marley or was it for Ruby. It made me feel like I could have reciprocated her love a little more than just those occasional pats and rubs and study sessions. I wasn't near her when she passed away, but I wish I was there to make her feel better. I wish I had cried a little over her grave. I wish I hadn't taken her love for granted for though I might have several other pets through the years, I know that no other pet would cry when I cried, jump happily when I was happy, study long hours with me, wait tirelessly for me when I am late from work or be faithfully by my side always.

Why it is called what it is called....

After much deliberation on what to name my blog I finally settled on "Unexpressed Expressed". When something took so long to decide it is only fair that I wish to express what went into the decision. So here I go: Expressing the Unexpressed ......

I can already hear some voices mumbling, "Who is stopping you from expressing? You are a free person. Do what you want. Speak out your mind." Well, to the ones asking, "You are not stopping me, nobody is stopping me. (Here comes the age old expression!!! ) It is not you, its me".

During my early stages of life, in those 'ages of innocence' ;) when you don't think a lot about things (other than for those things which you considered so important then, but seem too silly even to mention right now), I hardly used to express my views. Sometimes, I used to doubt if I really had any views on my own cos I was so used to keeping quiet and following the code of conduct that school, society and family has already established. It actually made me feel proud, for I am, in fact, a very 'proudy' (dictionary.com says this word doesn't exist, but I am going to stick to my desi English) person. I considered myself as a very patient and tolerant soul, open to all views and obedient to all laws. And so I thought, that I was built that way, raised that way and remained that way without wondering why I was that way.

Then a change of scene/location, I am in US all by myself, I am faced with totally new situations to make decisions every day.No longer a protected and guided lamb, where my thoughts were overshadowed by a guardian. I suddenly seem to no longer be the person who agrees to all that is being said around her. I had specific opinions about things which I expressed freely. I began defining myself. I liked what I was defining.

Then again a change in scene/location/responsibilities/life, and all of a sudden I am married, back again in family life. Now, you can see where I am getting to isn't it? Should I become the innocent lamb or the 'Miss. IKnowWhatIAm'? First I didn't think I had to decide anything. I am what I am, so will remain what I am and will express what I think, or thats what I thought. And there was nothing really preventing me (atleast explicitly) from staying that way. But thats not how it works when you are in a family, with the one that you love the most. Opinions differ, arguments build and eventually hurt remains. The silent lamb began surfacing again. I then realized why I was that way in my early days of life. I realized that I had opinion about things even then, but it went unexpressed for a purpose. I simply wanted to be accepted by my loved ones. It is the feeling of wanting to make them feel that you agree with them. Now, I liked the reason I gave, but it felt like I am not being myself? Isn't it like I am covering up who I truly am? That's when it dawned on me that, the 'silent lamb' is the person I am - a person who wants to be accepted by her loved one.

Alright, I have sounded angelic enough already. I have portrayed myself as a sacrificing soul who curbs her right of expression for making others happy. Well, that doesn't sound like me even to myself. Here is the demonic side. The other bitter part of the truth is, I do not express my views because very plainly I am not open to an argument. Yes, I can't take it when someone says I am wrong. The fear of being shot down (plus, the anger that comes with it "How dare you disagree with me?"), not knowing how to defend my views and of course, the need to be accepted together put how much I expressed in check. I began redefining myself, and I liked what I was redefining.

But can a woman keep mum about what she thinks... noooooo.... atleast, I can't, especially after knowing what my view of things are. I somehow have to get my point across and also, get it across without being shot down.... so, there is no better way than through a blog - which is called what it is called.