When I wrote those words above, I thought to myself why is it that I want to have such arbit words to be a title for my blog entry. But I could hardly resist writing these words, and because I could not fit them in my entry I thought I would put them in the title. And just the randomness of the set of these words gives me wings to write anything I feel like. As it is I have been feeling a strong urge for a long to time to just write without trying to follow a single thought, just keep writing what comes to my mind. After reading these 7 words over and over again innumerable times I now think that there is some connection between these random words and me, otherwise why the strong urge to pen them down. And that connection could well be the life for me. Yes, “Confusion, happiness, unique, veil, vial, wail, and success” define life for me. I would just take the opportunity not to decorate my words, to let my writings be as confused as I am or may be I am not.

I can’t forget the eyes of two women in their 40s or may be more, not choosing to leave the stadium when everyone was doing it as India lost to Australia in Hyderabad. The way they held each others hands and prayed for some magic to happen and India to win. The look in their eyes was heart warming, the urge for someone whom you call yours, to win, in this case its team India. The visual has stayed with me for the past five days.

I can’t forget the kids whom I saw at Juhu beach today, who were playing with the sand, had those plastic saw, trolleys and lots of other such stuff, which looked expensive, and the urge in my heart to provide my kids with that kind of fun, that affluence, which I never had. And then there was a realization of parents living dreams through their children. And almost immediately it gave me an overwhelming feeling of gratitude for my parents. They have provided me with everything they could only dream of during their childhood and youth. I can never do enough for them, and I can’t shrug it off by saying that it is every parent’s responsibility because what they have done for me has not been anything short of extra ordinary, considering the kind of childhood they had for themselves.

I can’t forget another kid on Juhu beach, who was shivering with cold and barely had clothes to cover himself up, and looked with a lost silence at those kids I mentioned above. He knew he could also make castles with sand, but his hands could not match the efficiency of the spade, he knew he could also make a moat around that castle but he knew that he had no trolley to take the sand he digs away from the structure and the hold of his palms was insignificantly small. He knew if he fought hard and persisted he could still manage, but then there was no one to provide him with juice after all the efforts he has made, or at the least hug him and say ‘good work’, there was no one for him and he knew, and I can’t forget.

I can’t forget the puja three years ago, the way it changed my life and my association with festive. The way I used to get all pepped up as soon as navratra was there, and how that one month of festivities used to give me all the positive energy I required for an entire year. The same puja today seems to depress me and add on to it the pink weather which makes me all the more vulnerable. It gives me a nagging feeling, a restless heart, an unsettled mind.

I can’t forget a girl who tries to commit suicide after she lost the guy she loved almost madly, immediately after her engagement. Her cries, give me a feeling of standing in an endless graveyard. It makes me feel sick.

I can’t forget my cousin whom I could never know close enough, and news channels say committed suicide due to an unrewarded love. I can’t forget another cousin who as I write this is battling for life at a very young age. I have never been close to them but they make me sad, I feel like going in front of the sea and cry loudly. Because I feel for them not as their cousin but as a stranger, what happened to them was unfair.

I can’t forget when my friend says that her life is giving her a choking feeling; it chokes me too to realize that I can’t do anything about it.

I can’t forget that I can’t do anything about so many things in life.

I can’t forget how I have lost friends in front of my eyes and I only watched helplessly even reluctant at time to win them back.

I can’t forget how I have been lying all my life so much so that those lies have become a part of my life but they still are lies. How I have kept lying to myself, I am afraid of loosing respect in my own eyes.

I can’t forget when Aditya said, he can never be easy with the fact that one can date someone who has been with someone else before and that too for a long time. How many of us can really accept someone with those credentials, can I do that. But that is the hypocrisy, if I can’t accept someone like that, who will accept me. It’s a man’s world and we the men of the world think from our perspective all the time.

I can’t forget that I wanted to write so much more and I am absolutely not satisfied and at peace, but I just cant carry on. May be some other time. I really miss my diary. I want to get back to it, but something has been stopping me from doing it.