For those who've known me, for an hour, a day, months, years or a lifetime, would probably smile and think to themselves, "Typical" or "why am I not surprised?"
Over the years, I've earned the title of a 'hog'. In school, in college and at work. Most of my time is spent in either eating, talking about what I want to eat, or thinking about what I could eat.
I cant explain my obsession about food. I'm always hungry. even after I've just finished a meal, I'm already thinking about the next meal.
I've been accused of converting non-eaters into hogs. And they've told me, sometimes seriously, sometimes jokingly, that they need to stop spending time with me because I'm making them put on weight while I continue to stay skinny as ever.
There's something about food that calms me down. If I'm sad, or angry or lonely or busy- food makes me feel better. Almost always.
But what you should also know is that I hate eating by my self. Food gives me a joy I cant explain and I have to share it with someone. Simply talking about it doesn't help. The other person needs to experience it and feel the bliss too.
When I cut into a slice of blueberry cheesecake, watch the spoon sink into its mushy core, pause for a brief moment at the crust, hear a soft click as the spoon cuts through the crunchy base and hits the plate, when I put the spoon into my mouth, feel the cheesy, creamy cake slide and roll around my tongue and melt away, bite into the tiny blue berries as their juices burst in my mouth and feel the crumbly crust leave a tingly texture on my tongue..... that's pure satisfaction. That cant be shared with anyone until he/she feels it too.
While most people eat to live, I, for one, live to eat.
PRAY
I'm not a very religious person, even though I come from a family who is. And I'm not sure if I'm too spiritual either.
I've never been able to explain to people what my thoughts about God are. But then, I dont think religion is something that needs to be explained to others. Its your won personal thing.
I also think prayers have nothing to do with religion.
I dont know how to pray. I've been taught, obviously. But over the years I've somehow lost the line that differentiates 'praying' from simply 'talking' to someone you believe in; God or otherwise.
Most of the times I feel like I'm simply talking, and to me that's praying.
I'm not going to dwell too much on how I pray because this isn't about that.
I dont know if I believe in the power of prayer. And I also dont believe that if you honestly want something, real bad, and you pray for it from the bottom of your heart, you'll get it. That just means that all the times I haven't got what I asked for, I haven't really wanted it badly enough.
That's not true.
I just think, even though its hard for me to admit, that you get what you need, not what you want.
Some nights back, I was feeling terribly low and lonely, and I lay in bed, crying, wanting so much, to be with someone who'd make the loneliness disappear. That hadn't happened in a very long time and I wished that for one night, for even a moment, someone would wipe my tears away. I 'prayed' for that moment; from the bottom of my heart.
And after all the times when I've thought God doesn't care about what I want, He gave this to me. He gave me someone who, for that moment, said something so simple, yet more than I could have asked for. "You have me."
When my grandfather was sick and people told me he didn't have much time left, I prayed. Harder than I'd ever prayed for anything in my entire life. For him to get better.
My cousin was expecting a baby and he'd be born anytime. And I wanted my grandfather to be around to see the baby, who'd be the first great grand child of our family.
I prayed, every night, every day, for a chance to let my grandfather see him ( my cousin had a baby boy eventually).
The night before my grandfather passed away, I was filled with something that could only be called 'enlightenment'.
Everyone told me my grandfather was in pain and he was suffering every moment that he was alive. He wanted to let go. But I couldn't stand the thought. It just made me pray harder for him to get better. Even when the doctors said there wasn't anything they could do.
But that night, I thought to myself, that my grandfather, even though I love him so much, had to released. I couldn't hold on to something that only brought pain and suffering. I had to stop being selfish. I had to let go. And I did. I prayed, for my grandfather one last time, to give him what he wants.
And my grandfather passed away that night. And he, and I, were finally at peace.
LOVE
There's nothing I can say about Love that hasn't already been said before.
Some time back, I was asked to define 'love' on a social networking site. And I replied with, "Am I qualified to define love?"
Everyone has a different perception of love, and there can be no fixed definition for it.
When I think of love, its something very simple: Love is when you're happy being with someone, anyone, who lets you be yourself.
I wont add that the person should be just as happy. Because I believe love is selfish.
Have I been in love?
So Many Times.
I've often admitted to myself, it doesn't take much to make me happy. Someone once termed it as being 'low maintenance'. I would have agreed to it had I not known better. Wanting the simple things in life is anything but LOW maintenance. Wanting to get the smallest things, which most people take for granted, is more difficult than having someone name a star after you.
Love, to me, is anything that makes me smile, or cry, in full honesty and sincerity.
I've been hurt by some of my closest friends. I've even cried for them. But it has been real. And I know the reason I shed tears for them is because of the love we once shared.
A month or so back, I was out with some of my colleagues, and after a couple of drinks, I remember laughing alot. And I remember I hugged my friend and cried for several long minutes because she would be leaving soon. I've known her only for three months, but I'll miss her. And to me, that's love.
A person, with whom I've not been on talking terms with for over a year, with whom I've fought on several occasions, shakes my hand when we meet several months later, that's love.
My immediate boss pretends to be busy just so my boss would take a look at my work and know I've been getting better, that's love.
Love may have been last on my list, but in life, it isn't necessarily so...
