When love becomes a failure..

I just wanted to put something here.. Something that my cousin Ayesha posted in her blog. It's about the failure of love from a girl's point of view. Here she goes..

In the midst of the exams, when I took a short break from studies, in a drowsy mood, suddenly I was drawn into deep thinking. .

These days I’m seeing a lot of people around me getting committed and within a short span, they split. . Why this happens? How can two hearts loving each other so deeply and madly depart?! This question has been in my mind since a long time back. .

Does that love hurts them to that extent? Or does the essence becomes too sweet to be taken more? Or coz they wish to get back to reality from that virtual world of love?
May be I would know the reason if I too were in that virtual world!
Even in the other case, being near those people, I can feel the sweetness in that fruit before it gets rotten. . the closeness, the intimacy, the love, affection, care everything takes them to the heaven where they are the only king and queen. . But at a point, all these vanish. . May be everything becomes over doze and hurts the two little hearts. .

One major reason as far as to my judgement is the ‘Possessiveness’
If a girl loves a guy, she feels like she totally own him. . And each and every step he takes towards others, make her feel insecure, even the case be she trusts him totally or understand him well, nothing matters here. It’s a child’s nature to claim a thing saying ‘its mine’. The same is replicated here. Kya karein! There’s a child within everyone of us.

On the other side, a guy is very open. . Though his thoughts may be narrow if it comes to his girl, by nature, being dominative and possessive, yet he is independent in his own way. .and he can’t be forced in a direction for too long. . He soon bursts out. . This may be the reason for a guy to dump his girl. .

But in today’s world, it’s the girls who dump the guys with more percent. . Poor guys, who were once the heroes, now each turn into a devdas. .

Usually a guy 1st takes a decision and then fixes up the girl in his heart. But a girl first fixes up the guy in her heart and then takes a decision then when it comes to life and future, where her selfishness comes into play!
Guys are the most affected. . It is still worse when a guy cries. . He totally gets frustrated. . But once when he stays calm and sees what’s happening around and to himself, he learns the best lessons of life. . There the maturity grows within him. .

Guys, who were once so rough and hard, become soft and keen in whatever they do. They understand the reality, the real happiness that stays forever. They become perfect.
Finally I reached my topic! Failure makes a man perfect, so as the love failure!
Every problem has a meaningful end and as the famous quote says ‘everything happens for your own good’.

Note: Here I considered only the true loving hearts and not those that are meant for ‘time pass love’, where dumping each other doesn’t turn out to be a matter!;-)

You can visit her blog page here.

எத்தனை மனிதர்கள்...

Well it's been a long time since my last post and here I am with a post which I wanted to write since the year dot. 'Ethanai Manithargal' (Eng: How many people?) for the most part is about the different people who I have observed in my life (mostly strangers), during a travel or in course of waiting for my friend in a station. Here, I am narrating one such experience while travelling back to Chennai from my hometown Arcot in a train.

"FAHAD BHAIIIIIIIII... Mani 7 aachu paaru... elunthiri... FAHAD BHAIIII..." (Eng: Fahad, its 7am. Please get up). This is how my dad wakes me up every morning. That's his style and I am used to this same boring dialogue since I was a kid. He always addresses me with Bhai and I reckon it's just to remind me that I am a Muslim. It was a Monday morning and I had to get back to Chennai for work. I was into the second shift that means I will have to be at office by 2pm. I got up from bed, went straight to the bath room, had a shower, got ready and by quarter past 7, I was ready for the breakfast. Idly and chutney (the dish I disliked during my school days now happens to be one of my favorite dishes). I happily ate the idlies, took my bag and dad was ready to drop me at the bus stop. My place is a very small town and people wouldn't fancy using a deluxe bus which costs a cent more than the normal charge. I was amazed that the Tamilnadu Transport Corporation (TTC) had started an A/C bus service from Arni to Chennai via Arcot, which was supposed to reach the stand at 7.45am. I was there at the bus stand well ahead of time, feeling very happy that I would catch the bus with ease because people wouldn't afford using that bus due to its high fare. I waited for more than an hour but the bus never came, worse luck ever! The thing I like the most while waiting is that I get a chance to observe the people around me. There were many bald-pated men carrying manja pai (yellow bag) wearing white shirt and dhoties, old ladies carrying their grandsons, not so good looking guys trying to fish some local gals and other people waiting to catch the only other bus to Chennai which was supposed to arrive at quarter past 8. The time now is 0840 Hrs but even this bus never came. I could see there were 150 and odd people waiting for that single bus which has a seating capacity of 55 + 25 standees and you can imagine how it is.

The only thing I hate about India is its population. Wherever you go, you can see a huddle of men or people queued up, be it a ticket counter, cafeteria, railway station, bus stand and even at THE LOCAL PUBLIC TOILET. The first words I utter when I see such a rabble is, “Bloody Indian Crowd” which in short can be BIC. My friends turn furious when they hear me say BIC. They are right because even I am a part of the Bloody Crowd but that’s how I am. People dressed down the TTC for not running the buses properly. I could hardly wait anymore so I decided to catch the train instead of bus. I went to the nearest station Walaja Road. Again ‘BIC’, a long queue at the ticket counter. I had no other choice. It took me 30 minutes to get the ticket and fortunately the train was late by 20 minutes. I always have a habit of listening to music when am outside, so I plugged in my ear phones to my mobile, 100% Volume so that I could not even hear anything even if a thunder (or is it lightning, am not sure) strikes the person sitting next to me. The train arrived. The possibility of getting into an unreserved coach is out of the question since even a mosquito cannot enter the coach and come out alive, it was so jam-packed. So I got into a reserved coach with a limited number of journeyers standing.

I found myself a place to stand near the reserved coupe and there was this person aged about 30-35, bald-pated, with mush standing facing me. There was hardly 5mm gap between both of us. Behind him were a young married Muslim couple probably going back home from a honeymoon at Bangalore/Coorg (This is my assumption and I know my assumptions are not that bad). We both were standing towards her left and her Benedict was sitting next to her. I gave her a long fixed look. Her hubby returned a stern look. “Adi vaangidathada baba. Moodittu paatta kelu” (Eng: Don’t get a blow from him. Just listen to the music). That was my mind voice. But I couldn’t stop my eyes from looking at her. She wasn’t that beautiful. She wore a purdah, had black marks on her face, the best legs and that’s it. It was toilsome when people crossed us every minute. I had to move every time and it was so damn disgusting. “Tho phir aao… mujko sataao…” the voice of Mustafa Zahid made me lose my thoughts and I was there standing in between 100 fellow travelers, DAY DREAMING. “Sir Oru thadava sonna puriyatha, athaan thalli nillungannu solraenla” (Eng: Sir, Don't you understand if you are told once? I asked you to move a bit). My dreams were disturbed by her husband who was shouting at the guy standing in front of me. The guy had accidently stamped the gal’s most beautiful legs and she had complained to her husband and then this had happened. I was admiring enviously the way he was protecting his wife. I just wished I had protected someone the same way. My feelings were ineffable. It happened the second time as well but this time she didn’t complain to her husband but instead she told the guy straight away.

Vaazhkaila muthal thadava namakkum intha mathiri nadakkathannu thonuchu. Antha oru nimisham. Marakkave mudiyala. (Eng: First time in my life, I was wondering if this would ever happen to me. I want to term this moment in my life. Unforgettable!!!) I have come across many beautiful couples in my life than these two but I never had this feeling before. The way she slept on his shoulders, the way he whispered a joke in her ears, the way he protected her, their each and every expression made me so envious, that I wanted to get down from the train and get married right away in the Chennai Central Station. I don’t know, this may look bizarre to you but I hope some of you would have felt the same at some point of their lifetime. I can only wish things to happen but I cannot expect them. Two hours just vanished like a flash and then I got down at Central station with a remarkable smile of my face. This journey was special and will always stay close to my heart forever. I believe my old lady reads this post and a simple smile from her will make me the happiest person in the world.

To my old lady – I will always be your guardian angel all through my life. I will never let you fall. I will stand up with you forever. I will be there for you through it all, even if saving you sends me to Heaven. I will be the one for you. You are my true love and my whole heart. :)