Being Perfect

Is there something that is static in this whole world? Anything that is present since the first day of creation of this earth and will remain as it is till the doom's day?? Nothing!! Everything changes. Changes for either good or bad, but the crux is that they do. A person changes throughout his lifetime. His ever changing behaviour. while handling so many roles and responsibilities.

Amid these changes, I think there is a static concept called "perfection". Dictionary says:

Perfect (Adjective): Having all the required or desirable elements, qualities, or characteristics; as good as it is possible to be.
Perfect (Verb): Make (something) completely free from faults or defects, or as close to such a condition as possible.

Isnt this blurry logic? Who knows the limits for "as good as possible"? Still, we want to achieve perfection, by all means. We change continuously in pursuit of perfection. This is just relative as the darkness is to light, as ignorance is to knowledge.

So here is the deal, if you have changed  and you don't know for good or bad? Let me tell you that you have changed for good, you have changed in order to become perfect. Either perfect good or perfect bad, but the change in you is positive. Be happy!! coz the distance between YOU and the THE PERFECT YOU  is decreasing. 

Next time, when somebody ask me, How are you? My answer will be " I am perfect!" ;)

What do you do when?
You explain the problem in elaborate and detailed manner, expecting a solution, and the only reply you get is "ok!!"

arghhhh!!!

Read this somewhere:

"Sometime, the only repentance, is to live happily and act as if nothing ever happened"

Probably, this is why its difficult to define and live Life!!!

Phase 2 Phase

Placid smile brightened her face as she sipped hot ginger tea standing on the terrace of the building. Shravya always enjoyed her tea time. Watching sun going down, magical palette of colors in sky and a warm cup of tea, what else she wanted. Nights are dark and days are bright, both had their own harshness. The only balancing stroke are the evenings. Days pushed her towards future, nights pulled her back in past. Leaves of coconut tree that stand tall were rustling and got chance to obstruct the view. Leaning against the wall supporting solar heaters of the building, Shravya looked at the traffic, far on the old airport road. She was lucky to have avoided the Bangalore's traffic during rush hour. It was a calm evening, cool breeze blowing, kids coming back from school, but behind all this, there was a storm building up, inside. In spite of sound on the streets, she could clearly hear Thug-thug-thug from her own heart. 

A voice came from inside, "You must tell him, tell him that there is no reason to continue this relationship on broken foundation of love. Nothing matters more than the trust and faith, which you have already broken. Parth might have forgiven you, but you must not forgive yourself". Even if Shravya tried hard, she could not argue this. The irreversible past was haunting her. She and Parth had a wonderful relationship of ten years, till she came to know Pramod. A turning point in her life which made her think about the relationship and its shear existence. The gaps of their relationship started becoming visible to her than ever before. Nobody could replace Parth, but Pramod was filling the gaps. As always Pramod became a good friend and then when he expressed his love to her, she realized the fact that being in love with Pramod by cheating Parth is surely not her way. Pramod had left her now but the sprouts of love that were growing for Pramod were far to control. Struggling in this tug of war, she decided to reveal this truth to Parth. She was holding the pieces of old envelops on which she scribbled Pramod's poem during their discussion on Frost and Dickinson. The only memory that she was still holding were his poems written for her.   

"I will call you back in sometime, bye" talking to someone on phone, came Parth. He knew where he can find Shravya at this time of the day. He wasn't sure how to break the news to her. Being naive in cracking jokes, Parth gave a sheet of paper to Shravya. Though the piece of paper was familiar to her, getting it from Parth was surprising. She did not want to open it, as if opening it will sink her into eternal whirlpool. Still hoping for something else she looked at Parth, who was waiting for her to open the envelop. As she was about to say something, Parth stopped her. He pulled out a dried rose with long stem out of the book he was holding along with envelop. She smiled, and memories came rushing. How fifteen years back Parth came to meet her on New Year's Day morning. Wearing white-kurta and blue-jeans as he stand on the door. He gave this red rose to her, Shravya was unsure of how to react, hid herself behind the door. Nobody has ever given her a red rose. Parth had lot to say, but he was sure how he can say zillion words with this rose. Today he was holding the same rose.

Keeping her tea mug aside, she opened the envelop, took out the paper. It was a report from hospital which stated that she will soon be a mother. Few scribbles on a paper have made her look beyond present.  Suddenly she could see the future clearly. It has started taking shape. In anxiousness of seeing beyond the time, she forgot that she was holding future inside her. If the foundation is broken, there has to be a way to fix it also. Past is irreversible, but mending things in Present is always possible. 

A silent tear trickled down her cheeks as she slipped the pieces of crumbled envelops from her hand, which were quickly blown away by the wind.