The impossibility of being Moureena

[ I shamelessly admit that this very long post is all about me!]

The impossibility of being Moureena, because, to begin with, I'm not sure what my name actually means. But that also means that I'm free to ascribe any meaning of my choice to it.

I don't particularly identify myself with any state identity for the nomad that I've been, I have within me, a part of all the places I've been to. But I do think of myself to be Punjabi by nature and by that I certainly don't mean crumbling under the influence of drugs. I think I'll hand pick from the most common stereotypes associated with Punjabis for myself - warm and cheerful, because that's how I come across, usually. Superficially.

I've been such a daydreamer and have built numerous castles in air only to later discover that those are inhabitable. I wonder if my life events are being controlled by a donkey, and whenever I think, from a safe distance, that this particular situation would be a very uncomfortable one to be in, I'm kicked by that donkey to find myself right at the centre of that situation. Or it could be this notorious genie-chef, who has my wishes for ingredients, chopping them up haphazardly and serving life to me, so that I have my wishes granted but they are nothing as I ever imagined.

I think as a child I wished my life to be like a movie, I didn't know it will turn out to be THAT melodramatic. I probably failed to specify the genre. You have to be careful what you wish for, right?

But along the way, I grew up to realise that I am the one in control.

I'm dealing with turbulent waters but gliding just fine. In my own little Ice-land I'm waiting for spring. I have a little shovel and I feel audacious enough to start clearing the ice and make my own way.

I have set my heart on this particular wedding dress and I have perfect plans for my life post retirement. Now all I need is that perfect employment opportunity which will enable me to realise those plans and a groom.

How difficult could it be?
*laughs and cries alternatively*

I liked this particular 'you' so much that I wanted to, and I did label it as the very problematic four lettered 'L' word. But a twist of time and the feelings vanished. No more cravings and encounters weren't as satisfying as before nor the company as comforting.
I'm obviously talking about chocolate. I got over my sweet tooth.

I felt giddy with happiness to find out that there is something called social psychology. You can, in a way, actually read the minds of people!
I fail to read mine at times though.

I frequently have nightmares and in most of them I find myself running away from wild animals and I swear I'm not making this up that I wake up with aching legs. I'm so used to them that they aren't scary anymore. In fact, I plan to record them in a diary someday and call it "stranger than fiction."

In reality, instead of fight and flight, my mechanism asks me to freeze in face of danger. Maybe my coding forces me to access the danger more closely before I take a step. Evolutionary anomaly?

I had a taste of my own brilliance when I was younger, which I now feel fleeting, dull. Recently, I was so overwhelmed by the stagnation in my life that I decided to go for morning walks, taking them to be a metaphor for moving forward.

I don't think I'm a materialist but I felt sad when I lost my favourite spoon once. No, I wasn't 2 when this happened, I was 21.

I don't always like what I see in the mirror but I still love myself enough. And I think I'm a different person everyday.

I would be disappointed if all our life is not being recorded, somewhere, up there in heaven, to be viewed by us later when our time on Earth is over. Mine would definitely be a musical as I find myself singing and dancing around when I'm home alone.

I have a really loud mind and a squeaky little voice and I'm sure I wouldn't have said anything of what I write, out loud.

I find myself postponing too many things for "someday". While my guitar gathers dust I dream of playing it till my fingers bleed. I'm looking for that one perfect song to serenade people with to move them to tears. Misery, like happiness, should be shared.
I think, through writing, I'm doing pretty much the same.

The little joys in life satiate me enough to forget all failures and the goals not achieved, for a little while. Stepping out in the world does seem scary but I do believe in the power of kindness that's making the world go round.

Sweaty and messy for doing something good is totally acceptable.

I've felt this feeling of loneliness creep up my skin even while being with people I know.  I haven't actually figured out what exactly it is, like so many other things. I'm a wallflower and a fireball in the same body. I don't know if it's sane to have these two voices in my head, listing the pros and cons of anything and everything.

There are certain places that I ache to visit. Places I've never been to before, but they somehow feel familiar.

Reading newspaper has become increasingly saddening and fiction has become a refuge.

I've swallowed tears and smiled instead while watching something that I know isn't real but still hits hard. I've remembered something really funny at the most inappropriate of times and suppressed laughter.

I secretly like all those people making puns and cracking lame jokes. I secretly like so many things about so many people.

I've now realised that festivals are more about the family coming together and being together, with or without the overt celebration. 

And that people might leave behind voids which can hardly be filled, but you can use that space to grow.

I don't think I have anything figured out in life for now but I would happily be the listening ear for others.

I'm watching life unfold slowly, in its own beauty and trying to abstain from the sweet poison of the rosy daydreams. And expectations.

I would want my epitaph to read "The dusk has fallen upon me" while I chase the sun now and patiently wait to witness a glorious sunrise.

Relevance of film festivals

Though what I wrote didn't get published, the mention certainly made my day! ( The Hindu 21 November 2015)

This is what I had submitted :

Agreed, that entertainment is now just a click away – or to put it more precisely- a tap away, as now even personal computers have become obsolete and information is on the palm of our hands, now that smart phones have taken over. Movies can now be downloaded and watched at the ease of our homes but that experience certainly doesn’t diminish the experience of the movie festivals.

Film festivals are still relevant, even more so as our engagement with the social space has decreased drastically. Film festivals are platforms for appreciation of art, of shared living experience and bonding. The cyberspace is unfathomable, with more information being shared online with every passing second, but the fact can’t be denied that it has definitely led to the shrinking of human interaction, which is essential for the sanity of human beings. 

Furthermore, film festivals provide a bigger audience, encouragement and recognition to the small scale film makers, the artists- the creators of the unconventional cinema. To the audience, they bring forth the best of cinema- the unheard, yet significant stories; with each story acting as a window to another world and a chance of sharing the experience of humankind from different parts of the globe.

Last but not the least, with the debate on (in)tolerance getting more muddled up every day, I think film festivals can be beautiful examples of people coming together, being presented with different worldviews, forming different opinions and yet, sharing the same space for experiencing and appreciating art and taking home with them fond memories of it. Film festivals can bring people together, literally and metaphorically.

So, for the sake of camaraderie and for the love of art, I think film festivals, and in fact, all festivals celebrating art will be forever significant.