It was a dream, wasn't it?

Some time ago, I had a dream.

Or did I?

Have you ever had a dream that felt so real, even after you woke up, that was so fresh in the mind days later, that you often wondered if it really was a dream? Or did it really happen without you realising it? Can you manage to sneak away from your life and live a completely different life and still make it back in time to catch the bus to work?

In DDLJ, Simran asks her father to take a month out of her own life and give it to her to live. I wonder if that can really work literally. Is it possible that we can take a few moments, days, months or even years out of our own life, and live it like a dream, and suddenly wake up and find ourselves back where we were, with the same familiar faces that had been with us, sans the moments, days, months and years that had passed and yet, somehow had not passed?

Long ago, I saw an episode of the X-files, where the same day was being repeated over and over again. And no one realised it, except one girl. Every one would wake up to the same day, not knowing it, and would live their life for the day in the exact same way. Every single day. And the lone girl looked on, bewildered, waiting for the cycle to end, the glitch to fix itself, so life could go on normally.

What is time really?

Going back to my dream, it was strange and unfamiliar. And yet, it was magical. It was different. I was different. The way I live my life, my strict discipline, my fierce independence, my attitude towards life, my values, my expectations, my feelings, every thing seemed to have different shades. I could not recognise my own self. It was good and it was bad.

It felt like I had taken some moments out of my own life and was living someone else's life. And then the dream got over and I returned to the point where I had left my original life. Without anyone around me realising it. As if I had chosen to take an overhead bridge instead of crossing the road at the traffic light along with the others. And somehow, I had crossed the bridge so fast, that I reached the other side of the road at the exact same time as the others did. And no one had even realised that I had taken a different path, and was missing. I had stolen a few moments of my own life and lived it by myself as I crossed the bridge.

Yet somehow, it did not seem like a dream. I really was living that life. Every time I close my eyes, I can still see that dream so clearly. I can relive each moment as if it had really happened. I had laughed in it, cried in it, got angry in it, loved in it. Even now, I can sense those feelings. It felt so real, it was scary. But it never happened, did it?

Yes, I loved it. At times more than my real life. But if I were given the choice to go on living in that dream and never wake up, what would I do? Would I choose to live that alternate life or would I be happy to go back to my old life, where everything was familiar, where I recognised people around me, where I knew myself? Which one was the real deal? Was the dream my real life, or was my real life the dream?

Now I have woken up, and I am wondering.

A dream it was and I should dismiss it as one. It was not real. I will never have that dream again. It will never cross paths with my real life.

It was just a dream.

Wasn't it?

It's not you, it's me

Earlier this year, when two people in the longest relationship that I knew broke up, I was taken aback. Suddenly nothing seemed to make sense. I realised that you may look at 'two people in love' with absolute awe and think how perfect they are together, and the next thing you know, they're walking separate ways, and you stand there bewildered, wondering what just happened in front of your eyes. I realised that these 'people in love' themselves can make all the plans they want, and believe that they have found their soulmate, and think that they're gonna live happily ever after, but in the end, what happens can leave them astonished and disoriented.

Human relationships are as complex as human feelings. What you feel for a person today may not be what you feel for him/her tomorrow. And yet somehow, I wonder if we can simply blame ourselves for it. What we feel is what we feel. Because that's the way it is. That's the way we are.

A year ago, I wouldn't have touched the topic of break-ups with a barge pole. To me, it was taboo to talk about it, to think about it, to even be in its vicinity. But then I have seen enough number of break-ups to have a more mature standpoint on it now.

The reasons why two people who were so in love once upon a time can break up, can be so many that it's mind-boggling. Here are just a few of the not-so-straightforward ones:

• You're going out with person X. You realise that person Y is closer to you than X. You realise it's probably not fair to X that someone else is closer to you. You break up with X and get together with Y.
• You realise that person Y is closer to you than X. You realise it's probably not fair to X that someone else is closer to you. You break up with X. But you don't get together with Y.
• You were never going out with X. Just that one day you woke up and realised it.
• You are way older than X. X seems like a kid at times. You don't see yourself living your entire life with X. You break up.
• You are way younger than X. Sometimes you don't find anything in common with X. You don't see yourself living your entire life with X. You break up.
• You have been together with X for many years now. When you wanted to get married, X did not. Now X wants to, and you don't want to be 'the person who waited around to be proposed to'. You waited for the proposal, and got your vengeance by breaking up.
• You have been going out with X for over a decade. You wake up one day and ask yourself why. You break up.
• X does something that changes the person you thought X to be. You break up.
• You do something that changes the person X thought you to be. You break up.
• You run out of conversations with X. You break up.
• X does not let you want to be the person you are. You break up.
• You don't want X to be the person X wants to be. You break up.
• You and X never knew where the relationship was going. And now you know. Nowhere. You break up.

These are just a few that I have witnessed. The actual number of reasons (if at all there is one) is probably as complex as human nature.

Every second of the day, someone somewhere is breaking up. And others are judging them. They are taking sides. They are curious, "Hey, those two broke up?? What happened man??"

Does it really matter "what happened?"?

"What happened" is merely a story put forward to the curious public by the PR agencies (read close friends) of the respective parties. Because "what really happened" is something only the two people who broke up will understand. If they're lucky that is. Others will never get it. They can only try and speculate whom they can brand as 'the bad person'. Because branding one of the parties as the 'bad person' makes it easier for others to 'understand what happened and why', provides them with a certain 'closure'.

But maybe, just maybe, there was no 'bad person'. Maybe it was just two 'good persons' who realised they were not meant to be together.

The negativity associated with break-ups is what makes the topic taboo. Break-ups are not all bad. They are painful, yes, but they prepare us better for our lives ahead. And they help us make choices for our lives.

When two people break up, their common friends have a tough time. I have noticed that generally, guys tend to be able to hold the 'neutral friend' role much better than girls. Girls tend to pick a side and stick to it. Brand the other person as the 'bad one'.

When we go through a break-up, we don't need anyone to tell us that X was a bad person. We don't need anyone to pass judgement on the relationship or on the people involved. We don't need sappy idealistic views like "These things happen in life." or "X is the bad person." or "I told you you should have never gone out with him/her!"

We're hurting on the inside. And we don't need to hear this shit at that point.

At that point, irrespective of what happened or whose fault it was, all we need is our friends around us to love us for who we are.

And perhaps, to tell us that X did not deserve us.

To kill a mocking nerd

In school, every class has a CC (Class Clown).

Similarly, in university, every course has a CP (Cruel Professor).

A CP has a general dislike towards your happiness, and delights in making you squirm.

I've had the good (or bad, if you may) fortune of being the CC for most of my school years, but never ever had I seen a CP as cruel as the one I encountered last week.

We're sittin' in the lecture theatre, all 50 of us, some listening to the lecture, some sleeping, some sms-ing, some eating, some lookin' around for interesting faces, when CP decided to drop the bomb.

"We'll take a break now, and after we come back, I will flash some emails that I received from you about the assignment. Students will point out what is wrong with them."

"What? Emails? You mean the emails that we sent him about our research assignment?" The whole class was buzzing with anxiety.

You see, the emails in question were really dumb. We had been asked to send in research proposals to him over email, and that's when we'd not yet learnt anything. So everything about those proposals were raw and juveline and sometimes plain illogical and dumb. And there really was no point of this exercise. Everyone knew what was wrong with theirs, and we never wanted to be reminded of the fact that we'd sent them.

Not to even mention how atrocious I thought flashing someone's email in class was.

And so the trauma started after the break. One by one, my classmates were asked to go and stand next to their emails near the screen (at 300% zoom, no less). And some cruel classmates found reason to wake up and tear each proposal apart based on what we had learnt after we sent those emails! It was freakin' embarrassing to stand there for a full 15 minutes and be made to feel really really small.

It made me very angry.

Finally, it was my turn. I took a deep breath, got up from my seat, went and stood next to my grossly magnified email on the screen. Before anyone could say anything, I picked up the microphone and said, "Hi everyone, I'm Sayesha and that's my email you're looking at. The professor mentioned that students will point out what is wrong with the proposals. Being a student of this class, I am also entitled to point out what is wrong with this one. Now before you guys can tear my proposal apart, I am gonna tear it apart myself and save you the trouble."

I then proceeded to tear my own topic apart. Pointed out all the flaws, all the weaknesses, the vagueness of the variables, the uncertainty of the attributes, the impractical research methodology. Every fault I could find, I handed it to the class.

By the time, I was done, the professor and the class were gaping, and I was feeling victorious. (Though later I did ask myself a million times over if I really did what I did!)

Chin up, I walked back to my seat as the class cheered.

Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.

You wanna mock me publicly? Not if I get there first and do it myself, buddy!

Picky? Me??

In Singapore, sudden showers are no surprise. Carrying an umbrella with you everywhere is not just recommended, it’s essential.

So last week, when my old umbrella finally breathed its last in a violent rainstorm, I went to buy a new one at this tiny shop that sold only umbrellas.

As I browsed, the shopkeeper approached me.

And here's how our conversation went:

Shopkeeper – Can I hepchew (help you), miss? What you looking for?

Me – Uhh… an umbrella?

Shopkeeper – Oh okay! What kind you want? I got every kind.

Me – Err… no, I don’t think you have it. I’m looking for something very specific.

Shopkeeper – Tell me. I got every kind. Brue, gring, red, puppaw, every kharaw! Very nice!

Me – Ummm… ok. The umbrella should not be more than 20 centimetres long. When folded, it should take on a cuboidal shape, not a cylindrical one. I want anti-UV reflective coating and I want it on the outside. I don't want silly girly patterns on the umbrella because my guy friends would rather die of pneumonia than endure the embarrassment of being seen under a girly umbrella.

Shopkeeper (looks at me with open jaw) - Huh??

*Long pause*

He ponders for a while, and then hands me a long red umbrella with Hello Kitty patterns on it. And it does not have any reflective coating. And when folded, it’s cylindrical.

Shopkeeper – This one how? Can or not?

I glare at him.

Shopkeeper - This one got very nice kharaw what! Suit your skin kharaw! See?

He placed the umbrella next to my arm. The cheek of him.

Me – Suit my skin colour????

Shopkeeper – Yeah, to buy umbrella, look at kharaw onni wat.

My thought bubble - Look at colour only?? Dude, it's an umbrella I'm buying, not a car!

My thumb-drive theory

Last week, my thumb-drive, containing a couple of my design assignments, crashed. I lost everything in it. And just like it happens in all drive-crash incidents, I had not backed up the data anywhere. Luckily for me, all the assignments on it had already been submitted. So I wasn't feeling too bad about it.

But it did remind me of my thumb-drive theory.

We store incredibly large amounts of data in our memories. Family, friends, things, incidents. It's all in there, jammed together, in a big crowd of memories. Real messy. But we know where what is. Most of the time, at least.

And then there are the tiny moments. Moments that we may not want to save in our main memory. Memories I refer to as 'thumb-drive memories'. I believe each of us has a little 'thumb-drive' meant for storing only the most special of our memories. I know I have one. I sieve through my memories and save my most precious moments in a thumb-drive in my heart.

These moments are really tiny, and they don't take up too much space. And to another person, they may not even appear significant. Which is why I store them separately. And I can carry them with me wherever I go.

These moments are independent of the rest of my memories. They are inaccessible to others, including the ones who are part of those moments. I can't copy them to any hard disk. I can’t show them to anyone. I can't share them on a network. I can't store them anywhere else. I can't back them up. I can't recover them if my thumb-drive crashes. That’s the way it works.

And if some day, I lose this thumb-drive, it will self-destruct immediately. Because it's mine and mine only. And no one can stumble upon it or take my moments away from me.

If I ever lose it (by choice or otherwise), I will have no regrets. I chose to save my precious moments in the thumb-drive. It was my decision to not back it up. Because there are some things you can't back up. You just let them be in that tiny thumb-drive.

'Cos if you lose those moments, you were meant to lose them.

High on a highland

"When was the last time you did something for the first time?"

I find this tagline really catchy, though I fail to remember the product it is used for. Which makes me wonder what the point is if you remember the ad but not the product. But then I digress.

Yeah, so Sayesha's back in town. And unlike Starbreez's fears, I am not dead, but very much alive and kicking.

I went to Genting Highlands for a much-deserved mini-vacation over the weekend.

























And I did a lot of things for the first time.

I went to a casino for the first time in my life and gambled.

Oh dear. I gambled. Bad bad girl.

Highlights of my trip:

- Awesome weather. Though it got quite brrrr at times, but it was a welcome change from Singapore's tropical heat and humidity. And the general levels of stress I'd been facing lately.

- During the bus ride to Genting, they could find no other freaking movie, but they chose to play 'Speed'. And since it was a night ride, I found it really freaky when each time I woke up, I would hear someone saying frantically "There's a bomb on the bus!" Of all the millions of movies in the world, why would anyone choose to play 'Speed' in a bus that's speeding uphill? Why why why??

- The security guard at the casino entrance asked to see my passport because he thought I was under-aged. Yeay!!!!

- Ok, I admit it. I was (still am, on most levels) totally totally clueless about gambling in a casino. Zilch knowledge. I think I made the dumbest statement of my life when I told my friend, "Let's go to the casino early in the morning. There won't be too many people so we can make a lot of money!"

- Did I ever mention how much I love the Malaysian people? Every time I visit Malaysia, I find new reasons to fall in love with the place. But the thing that remains constantly close to my heart are the smiles on the Malaysians' faces. So genuine, so from-the-heart. It's a lesson in life. Really.

- Orange flavoured ice lolly as I shivered in my jacket in the freezing cold weather. Outta-the-world feeling!

- The way words are spelt in Malay never fail to amuse me. Ice cream = ais krim. Ticket counter = tiket kaunter. Ambulance = ambulans. Lobby = lobi. Reminded me of the time I was working on some books for Malaysia and the reference books I received spelt 'Science' and 'Physics' as 'Sains' and 'Fizix'.

- An amazing conversation between my friend and the guy at the information counter.
My friend - "Where can we go horse-riding?"
Info counter guy - "Huh?"
My friend (trying to "clarify himself") - "Err... Riding a horse?"
Info counter guy (with a cry of recognition) - "Ohhh!"
Wow, some clarification that was, huh? Wonder how different 'horse-riding' is from 'riding a horse'. But who cares as long as it works!

- The guy at the information counter was trying to call up the ranch to book the horses. "No one picking up." He told us. "Maybe there are no horses." Suddenly visions of horses in uniform, sitting at the booking desk taking calls from customers filled my mind as I tried not to laugh in his face.

- We found a little horse ranch with a very sad-looking white horse. "Oh, let's bargain and get the ride really cheap!" My friend and I decided before we approached the guy. Our grand plans to bargain went outta the window when we were told that the ride only cost 3 ringgits. It made me incredibly suspicious. But my 3-ringgit horse ride, the shortest in the history of mankind, was totally worth it.

- The cable car ride down the hill was fantastic. The fact that you could not see the end of the cables because of the heavy fog, making you feel like you were just going to be swallowed by nothingness, just added to the thrill. I think my friend freaked out a bit because of that. And it did not help that I said, "Gosh, it would be so cool if we just died here."

- The Safari pub we partied at was pretty cool too. After a really good performance, the unbelievably friendly band members came down and mingled with us. It was awesome. I was totally high. And no, the orange juice I'd had had nothing to do with it. It was just the feeling.

- But the greatest high? My friend's incredibly good fortune and gambling skills ensured that our entire trip ended up being fully sponsored by the Genting casino. ;)

GTG. BRB.

It's gettin' hot in here. Stressed Sayesha needs to chill for a while. I am going away for a well-deserved mini-vacation to hibernate in a cold place with no computer. No, I am not locking myself in the refrigerator. Though that does sound like a tempting (and cheaper) option.

Gotta go.

Be right back.

Meanwhile, here's a message for you guys! :)

Sleeping with a stranger

Have you noticed how incredibly adorable some people look when they sleep?

Ever since I moved to the west, I have to take the train everywhere. It's a bit disorienting since I'm used to taking the bus where you don't sit facing other people. And so I have still not gotten used to looking at complete strangers for half an hour every morning.

A good tactic people use to get around this is to take a nap in the train. Now I am not the nap-on-the-move kinds. But lately, my lifestyle has become so odd. I get up at unearthly hours to reach office early and use my designer's Macintosh to do my design assignments. I rush to the uni in the evenings. After classes I get home late. And to top it off, on most days, I can't sleep unless I blog before going to bed.

In short, I run very low on sleep.

So if I'm not doing homework or office work in the train, I try and catch some sleep.

A few days ago, as I found a seat in the train and made myself comfortable to take a nap, I was about to close my eyes when I noticed him. Cute guy, sitting opposite me, with his eyes closed, taking a nap. Now he wasn't the drop dead gorgeous kind, but he was cute in a strange way, possibly because he was sleeping without a worry. Like a baby. So pure and so innocent.

I had two choices. I could either sacrifice my nap and look at this wonder of nature, or I could forget about him and do a favour to my sleepy self. I had 10 minutes to go before the train reached my station.

Shut eye or eye candy?

Drool or droop?

The decision had to be made fast.

And with a heavy heart and eyelids, I closed my eyes. And both of us slept.

Ten minutes later, I opened my eyes. It was time for me to alight.

I looked up, hoping to see him. He wasn't there anymore.

He had been replaced by a guy who had been watching me sleep! :O

My little space

Long long time ago, in the days of the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, there was a concept called 'kope bhavan' (fury chamber). Queens would enter the 'kope bhavan' if something pissed them off, and stay there till they had cooled down and were ready to step out.

(Personally, I believe there was a gym in here, where the pissed off queens worked out to let off steam. But don't listen to me, I believe a lot of things.)

My new place has a tiny triangular balconey just outside my room. With just enough room for one person. To lock oneself out of everything. I believe it was built for only one person who wanted that space just for himself/herself.

I love this space. It's where I stand and look at the sky, at the clouds, hear the wind rustling through the tall trees, feel it blow through my hair, watch the bright yellow bird that makes an appearance near my window once in a while, hear the cuckoo sing. And if I am lucky, feel the rain brushing against my face.

And think.

Really think.

About myself. My life. What I want from it.

One of the people on my blog asked me something over email, "Tera dhyaan kaun rakhta hai?" ("Who takes care of you?") And suddenly, in that moment, I was rendered speechless. And even though I shot off a typical oh-so-confident-Sayesha reply "Apna dhyaan hum khud rakhte hain, aur kya?" ("I take care of myself! What else?") it felt like I had suddenly run out of words.

And I really asked myself -- mera dhyaan kaun rakhta hai?

I guess that email had caught me on one of those days where I wasn't my usual strong self. When I was lonely and sad and homesick. When I reached home, I shut myself up in my space. It was raining. The raindrops brushed against my face as if trying to conceal my tears. After a while I couldn't even tell whether it was the rain or the tears running down my face. But I felt better.

This is my space. This helps me to cope with loneliness, with anger, with fear, with jealousy, with hurt, with heartbreak, with homesickness.

This is my 'cope bhavan'.

When is a good time to stop a wedding?

I called up a school friend in India some time ago. He was telling me about how he helped one of his friends elope with a guy, days before her marriage to another guy.

I was a bit shocked.

And he was shocked that I was shocked.

"Knowing you, I thought you'd find this so adventurous and exciting, Sayesha!"

"Duh! In movies! Not in real life!" I said.

"Why not?? It's so romantic!"

"Because, you moron, this is a WEDDING. Parents are involved. Extended families are involved. It's not just about the two people who're gonna get married. Other people's feelings are at stake!"

Yes, my views on certain things are a bit traditional. I am wild, yes, and doing risky things excite me. But eloping on the night before my wedding?? I don’t think I’d be up for that.

If things need to be changed, they need to be changed at the right time. At least before the cards are printed.

I was thinking about it long after our conversation. And I realised that most of my favourite movies have this aspect – the girl’s with someone else, and they’re gonna get married, and guy X just swoops in and takes her away. And because the story is about these two, no one thinks of the others involved and how they feel.

Classic case - Dil Chahta Hai.

Two weekends ago, I had a screening of 'Dil Chahta Hai' with two friends at my new place. Yes, we watched it for the nth time. And laughed for the nth time. And loved it for the nth time.

Now I have watched the movie so many times that in my head I have analysed the movie like a million times over. I've picked up tiny things that are not so obvious when you watch it the first time round. I've thought about which parts I'd have changed if I were the director. I've thought of the story from the viewpoint of the other characters.

The aspect of the movie that affected me the most was the Akash-Shalini story, and how a guy like him falls in love with a girl who's engaged to be married, and goes all the way to tell the girl what he feels and possibly stop the wedding.

It's quite amazing, isn't it? To have the guts to go to a wedding and say, "Mujhse shaadi karogi?" ("Will you marry me?") to the bride. But I rejoiced when I watched it. I went “Whoa, what a love story! Awesome!” Yeah, it's very romantic and all that, but if that really happened in real life, how would one handle it? Would I dare to do what Shalini did? To get away with a simple "Rohit, I love Akash. Please understand." the way Shalini did. I can imagine Rohit’s thought process. “Understand? Understand what? That you did not say anything all this while and just before the wedding, I’m supposed to "understand"?”

But he does it. He lets go of the girl. Cos she's in love with someone else. And it happens in Dil Toh Pagal Hai, in Rehna Hai Tere Dil Mein, in DDLJ, in Pardes, in Tum Bin, in Mere Yaar Ki Shaadi Hai, in Yuva, in Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. In fact, I realised to my horror that it happens in most of my favourite movies! Yeah, I like a bit of adventure... the forbidden always pulls me towards it... and what's more forbidden and adventurous than suddenly discovering three days before your wedding 'hey, I don't love guy X, I love guy Y!' Freakin' scary!

I hope it never happens to me.

I don't buy the argument that this is all very filmi and does not happen in real life.

What if it does?

Life is unrealistic. And we're human.

As I maintain, each of us has more than one soul mate. I wanna put a number to it. Okay, let’s say seven (the most overused number for such things). So I say each of us has seven soul mates in the world. Seven people we have the connection with. We may or may not meet all of them in our lifetime. If we’re lucky, we’ll spend our life with one of them.

And since we have seven soul mates, it is not really an impossibility to suddenly run into one of the other six while you’re about to be married to the first. And if you wanna change your mind then, what do you do?

Stop the wedding? After all, it’s the question of your happiness, your entire life, of what you want.

So when really is a good time to stop a wedding? Not at the mandap. Definitely not at the mandap. Too much is at stake, and too much has already happened. And too many people have become involved.

I'm quite lost myself. I have no answers. But the ideal answer would perhaps be -- be DAMN sure whom you wanna marry, and stick to your decision.

But how do we become damn sure?

I remember Rohit saying, “We love each other, that's why we're getting married. Isn't it, Shalini?"

And Akash says, "You should ask yourselves this question, not each other."

Maybe we should all ask ourselves. Do the Dil Chahta Hai test, close our eyes and really try and see whom we wanna be with. And know it before we get married. If there's a wee bit of a doubt, I'd say don't get married. Even if you can't be with guy Y, don't marry guy X because you can't be with guy Y. That's a bad reason to marry anyone, besides it being unfair to guy X.

I know someone who got married to a guy X because guy Y whom she wanted to marry never really said anything explicitly.

Which reminds me of another DCH scene. When Akash asks Mahesh Uncle how Shalini is, Mahesh Uncle says, “Khush nahin hai. Pyaar woh tumse karti hai aur shaadi Rohit se kar rahi hai...” ("She's not happy. She is in love with you but she's getting married to Rohit.")

And Sameer said, “Aur woh karey bhi toh kya? Ek taraf hain woh log jinhone usey woh zindagi di jo woh jee rahi hai, aur doosri taraf hai ek aisa aadmi jo usse pyaar karta hai nahin karta hai woh nahin jaanti!”

("What can she do? On one side are the people who have given her the life she is living, and on the other side is this guy... And she doesn't even know if he loves her or not!")

All of us have the right to tell the people we love, that we love them. Yes, we have the right to tell them whenever we feel like telling them. And sometimes, the timing is really bad. But it just happens. Life is unrealistic.

If you love someone, do something about it. And telling the person would be the first step.

But if the one you love is getting married and you wanna do something about it, you'd better do it soon.

Don’t wait till the wedding.