harder to breathe

Songs change their meanings as times change........


"Harder To Breathe" Maroon 5

How dare you say that my behavior is unacceptable
So condescending unnecessarily critical
I have the tendency of getting very physical
So watch your step 'cause if I do you'll need a miracle

You drain me dry and make me wonder why I'm even here
This Double Vision I was seeing is finally clear
You want to stay but you know very well I want you gone
Not fit to fuckin' tread the ground that I'm walking on

When it gets cold outside and you got nobody to love
You'll understand what I mean when I say
There's no way we're gonna give up
And like a little girl cries in the face of a monster that lives in her dreams
Is there anyone out there 'cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe
Is there anyone out there 'cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe

What you are doing is screwing things up inside my head
You should know better you never listened to a word I said
Clutching your pillow and writhing in a naked sweat
Hoping somebody someday will do you like I did

When it gets cold outside and you got nobody to love
You'll understand what I mean when I say
There's no way we're gonna give up
And like a little girl cries in the face of a monster that lives in her dreams
Is there anyone out there 'cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe
Is there anyone out there 'cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe

Does it kill
Does it burn
Is it painful to learn
That it's me that has all the control

Does it thrill
Does it sting
When you feel what I bring
And you wish that you had me to hold

When it gets cold outside and you got nobody to love
You'll understand what I mean when I say
There's no way we're gonna give up
And like a little girl cries in the face of a monster that lives in her dreams
Is there anyone out there 'cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe
Is there anyone out there 'cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe
Is there anyone out there 'cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe

the answer key

call me selfish
go ahead.. i won't mind..
maybe i am.. maybe i am a self centered child with atrocious people skills and even worse people reading skills..
so bloody what?
I am ME. I may become better, more caring, more understanding, more mature..
but guess what
at the end of the day... when i have had a long day and feel like kissing my pillow to show it just how much i missed it and need it, i WILL choose my sanity, my sleep and MYcomfort over whatever the fuck it may be that's going on in the world.

so i admit it
i am a selfish hypocrite

but damn it.. my pillow is the most important person to me at bloody midnight after a 14 hour mindfuck of a workday. maybe i'd care for music or a short conversation with friends or family about some random topic.. but i REFUSE to think of important things when all that my brain and body can say is SHUT UP AND SLEEP!

it may be the most important thing in the world..
but frankly my dear.. i don't give a damn

and i refuse to apologise for it. 

sometimes the silliest songs can be so profound..

a journalist's confession....

I joined this profession with a starry eyed idealistic dream of "doing good".... that as a reporter, what i print will bring justice to people, that i will help someone somehow by putting their story out to the world... then i was told that emotion and ideals have no place and a reporter must be objective and report the 'truth'

the problem is, that there are truths aren't absolute, they're layered.. what is true in one context may be untrue from a different point of view.. trouble is that a view that WE put out then takes the place of 'accepted truth', and edges out what the other conceptions may have been...

it has been said always that history is written by the victor.. whoever holds the pen controls what is told to the world and therefore accepted as the 'truth'. but what if the "Truth" has many many more layers than the 'truth' does?

where does one draw the line between the 'official written word' and one's own misgivings?? a story that I have written today is something that i was questioning while i was writing it..i knew there had to be more sides to the story, that the court has taken a decision which might not be teh correct one, but My personal misgivings have no place in a newspaper.. so i tamped down on my misgivings because it was all there is Black and white with a judicial stamp on it... the story is not in the black and white, the story is in the multi hued spectrum that the black and white is made of... but i chose to write the black and white, ignoring the fact that even in a court of law, black and white are not the only colours...

the worst thing is, professionally and legally speaking, what i have written is correct. There is NO factual error in my story, whatever i have written is what a court of law has noted in its duly stamped judgment... there is no way anyone can fault me, professionally speaking, for the story that i have done.. maybe i could have dug a little more, made the story just a little bit more rounded, but it wasn't professionally wrong of me to go by what the court has ordered... court reporters don't always take the other side's opinion once the court pronounces its judgment.. once its in black and white, its there, till a different court overturns the judgment...

its my heart and my soul that KNOWS there is more to this story.. and that i should have tried to get that 'more' before mechanically going ahead and writing the story... that I am at fault for simply opting for the comfort of going by the 'official' word and ignoring the questions that my own conscience raised... there is someone who was exploited.. even if one type of exploitation was  not there, there are others which have now been dismissed... i could have written about those, but since the court dismissed everything, i didn't write it either... legally my choice of focus is correct, i make no apologies for writing the story that i did.. but morally, i should have found some way of writing what the court chose to dismiss..

to the person this judgment affects most directly.... I am sorry. I will try and put your side of the story out in the world too..

"If you leave who will prove that my cry existed?/ Tell me what was I like before I existed.

yes i am selfish and spoilt.. i am, really... because while the world is talking about crimes against women and people are working their asses off all over the city, i'm wrapped up in a little bubble of mourning and memories...

in the past one month, i've lost three people who spent nearly my entire childhood pampering me, who were there in the background and foreground, often scolding my parents for scolding me, or hiding me when i wanted to escape the world... my grandmom, almost-surrogate- grandmom, and my Taiji- surrogate mom.
between the three of them, they can string together every step of my life from when i started talking to now when i stepped away and only returned to them when i needed a break from life.. even at age 24, i would cuddle up to taiji and ask amma to tell me the same stories that she's been entertaining me with since childhood.. i would visit damma and have her smile at me like i've made her day...
they were the people who all the news about life HAD to go to... they were the people who would scold me for working too much and eating too little and not having enough time to just be their little girl again...
They are the ones who remember little milestones and bumps from my childhood. stories like what i did with some long forgotten toy and the tantrum i threw about a shoe or the way i had to cajoled into eating something..
They knew my childhood, they knew the brat before i became I with an identity and a belief system.. they were the ones whose stories and admonitions and love and PRESENCE helped shape  me into who i am now.. my parents both worked, and they were there all day with me..

and now the witnesses to my childhood are gone...
Amma passed away on December 3, Damma on 15th, and Taiji on january 4...
i like to think that all three of them are now sitting in a sunny balcony up in heaven, drinking cupfuls of tea and  chatting about things just like they used to when i was a child running around with ati and akku....

goodbye...

I was a spoilt, pampered child.. as much as i may whine about growing up taking care of teh brats, the truth is that i never lifted a finger till well into my teenage, and i was the only child at home long enough to be pampered silly... i've done stuff like listen to stories all afternoon and all evening and have 'favorite' soaps brought from the market before i'd consent to bathe, and 'run away' from home because mom scolded me for something and LOVED to put my head in someone's lap and be stroked to sleep...

and now the people who spoilt me the most are gone.. Babji, Amma, and now Taiji... the people who pampered me enough for my parents to complain, the ones who told me i was the most beautiful princess in all the world and they loved me...

And i thank god on bended knee that they went before having to suffer too much pain...

Taiji, i wish our last conversation could have been happier.. i love you..