All About The People

Comedy on The Big Mic. Photo Courtesy: Aditi Mehta

It's all about People.

No. Not just the ones in the audience. It's about the ones you chill with before and after. The ones that will call you on a random Sunday morning to hang out. The one's you nod and smile at while you walk down the street. It's about the ones who call you up when they're down and out. The ones you can make laugh or even smile through a joke or a song or a hug. It's about the people you look to as an inspiration. The ones you look to for support. The ones that'll give you a pat on the back and the ones that will scream at you if you even dare to think of stopping.

You can see me in the picture there. The little blurred person on the cellphone screen. And it seems so very fitting. My actions are rather insignificant. But their results astound me every time.

The connection we form with people is what keeps us going, I think. It's the fact that we can be ourselves and really connect to an absolute stranger in the most honest way possible. It doesn't matter where you're from or where you're going. What matters is that one moment. That one space. The room becomes smaller. The distances shorten. We are in our natural state of being. Connected to one another on the most intimate level without even realising it. I guess that's what gets us hooked to performing.

Look at that picture once again. You can see it now, can't you? It's all about The People. :)

Angels

It's funny, how the night feels sometimes. The cold and Fear fills the air. A sense of lonliness and impending doom, nay, ever-present doom surrounds me and embraces me till I give in. Till I fall hopelessly through the night to the darkest depths of my being. No reason appeals to me. The only emotions present in me are fear and sadness. A sense of anger screams in and I begin shooting blindly at anything that moves.
Even if it is something I hold most dear to me. All hope is lost. Everything is futile. I have lost. Both everything I am and everything I had. It is the end.
But then a voice calls out. One that has been around forever. And it calms me.down. Reminds me that Im still right here. In my bed. At home and in touch with someone I truly love. Someone that truly loves me back. Slowly but surely, the voice listens to me as I shoot ever so foolishly even at it. Even I it struggles to set me free, aiding me to fight the great foe I can ever fight. Myself. The darkness begins to recede. A stream of light comes into view.
And before I know it, it expands to encompass all that was, is, and will be. I can fly again. And I shoot up. Out of the cold dark night. On to solid ground again. I still walk on the edge. But just knowing that that one voice will be there for me is enough. Enough hope to keep marching on. To keep fighting. To keep dreaming. To have hope. The wind blows at me. A gentle breeze to cool my mind. The night smells different. The city turns warm again.
There is love in the air. And I am bathed in it. In her love and in her glow. She asks me not to put her on a pedestal. But it's funny why she'd think that I was doing such a thing. Last time I saw her, last time I checked, Angels float above the ground.

A. Mehta