A bicycle stands discarded outside our home that everyone thinks to be a peace of junk and I was shocked one day when a junk dealer we had called to collect the old newspapers, wanted to take that cycle as well! My look of anger and hurt darted in his direction, made little impact on him and he still pestered me to let him have that piece of junk and rather increased the offer a little to lure me into selling it.
This cycle, the cynosure of whole of the neighborhood kids at one time, had really fallen on bad times. I wanted to clean it of the dust that smeared it and run my hand smoothly and affectionately over it as it was once the prized possession of my son. Suddenly my eyes were filled with all those memories that pertained to the acquisition of that cycle.
Ashu, my son, was perhaps in fifth class when he started pestering us to let him have a cycle. We were strictly against it as we thought him to be very young to ride it and moreover the road adjacent to our home was a busy road with blind curves and U-turns that made us anxious for his safety. But boys are just boys and he would just not agree to all the reasons that we put against the move and had an answer to all of them.
Exasperated, I asked him one day to write on a piece of paper why he wants to buy a cycle and I added that if we liked his write-up, we will give a thought to his demand.

A friend has commented upon my blogs that I am very subjective in my approach. This has made me analyze once again my own self in an "objective" manner. But can I be objective when I have to analyze someone whom I perceive to know so well? And what is bad in being subjective when it deals with persons and events that make a part of your life? I really wonder about the truth of being objective in self analysis. It is strange yet painful revelation that all we try to pose, in front of even our own self, is a good picture, a truth as we would like to see it!

I may not be very true to myself as subjectivity brings that kind of bias in analysis but on the other hand how can someone else point out to us about this subjectivity as it could also be that being subjective, he also reads the text as he wants to and not as it is.

It is the same catch that has been working during all writing debates--my version, your version, and the truth!

The truth is what all of us, including me, try and vouch to search for and paradoxically it is the truth that we all the time keep on avoid facing--even when it is such a harmless truth about our own self!

It is perception about the reality that makes us subjective, I suppose. I see or read something as I want to and not as it should be. But the question as to how it should be read, once again eludes answer. When we read a piece of prose written by someone else, how can we know the kind of thoughts that made the writer come up with that piece. Is it not for this reason that the autobiographical notes pertaining to the life of a writer and especially at the point of time when a particular piece, under analysis, was written, are meticulously observed. We all want to see a pattern in the development of the thought process and in this way see the reality as we perceive it to be and as a result thereof become subjective.

It is a vicious circle which leads to still more confusion. So the best is to enjoy a piece of writing without going into the details of "why’s" and "how’s"!

It feels strange to write after an age on this site. I feel like a stranger encroaching upon someone else's closely guarded territory. Why am I feeling like an intruder to break open some place that is sanctorum purity?

Is it because I have also started believing myself to be the "most self-centred person"? Why is that a stray thought of someone's perception about me has affected me so much as to withrdraw inside my shell? I am again having some serious doubts raising their head about what am I really?

Another serious observation that I have made is about the way we react to inforamation. Or it could be our perce[ption of the information that makes us behave that way. If someone is honest enough to share some strange truth about one's life, a truth that could be easily hidden without putting anyone to harm, instead of appreciation that person gets apathy. And on the other hand don't we go on listening to and living in a world that is made up of lies, untruths and appearances that are not real?

We are strange people. This is a point that has been there in my mind for a long time and I had to fac it. Am I really not what I seem to be? Is it something seriously wrong with me or the world, in general, has come to be run by such dictums? As world is what we, the people constituting it, would make it to be, I need introspection about my conduct, if not to offer explanation to others, at least to my ownself. Am I not in search of my real identity?

So what actually made me severe a relationship that had started so beautifully. Was it the honesty and truthfulness, but of a kind that I could not get myself comfortable with, that led to the sudden and abrupt and cruel end to its growth? Or was it a remark of the kind that accused me of "being a self ectered" person that made me really a self centered person?

As what I needed the most was to come on terms with the reality. I sincerely needed time.

I would not find answers to these doubts as in search of finding answers, I am afraid, I may not come across a real-me that even I would be scared to meet and acknowledge!

Today our Nidhi along with Vikrant came back to our home after her marriage. Since it was her maiden visit after her changed status, we all looked eagerly to her and Vikrant's visit. I decorated the entrance to our home with a Rangoli to welcome my daughter and son-in-law and was as excited as one would be on Diwali day when one does the same to welcome Godess Lakshmi!

We were still at it when both them appeared at the door step. Requesting them to wait for a while till I brought deepak and kumkum to welcome them, I rushed inside to organize all that in a thali. And all this time, Nidhi was to stand outside which made her wonder as to what had made my stance changed? Why could she not just rush inside, straight to me?

What has changed between us? Even I thought of a snapped link somewhere but at the same time another off-shoot coming up, young and full of life--a new relationship.

hi