You aren’t lost. You are yet to be created.

Its been almost a year since I could even summon the courage to open my WordPress account and get writing. Truth is, I was so disillusioned with what I had to say. Why would anyone read my posts? Or rather, why should anyone? What can I say that will actually add meaning to anyone’s lives but mine? How would it be of any use to anyone apart from just feeding my misplaced ego?

Battling these questions and finding answers to them is a tedious process. I don’t have any of the answers yet. I have tossed and tumbled endless nights trying to figure out who I am and what I want to say. Who am I?

Simple? Materialistic? Kind? Subservient? Friendly? Clingy? Peaceful? Moody?

I DON’T KNOW.

And I’m not going to let myself be ashamed for it.

Years ago, during my teens, the concept of being a tomboy was very appealing. Mostly because I didn’t have an elder brother and I really wanted one. Mostly because I liked the no-nonsense air I had around me. Mostly because, I liked how easy and time-saving it was. Mostly because, it was a way to be different from everybody else.

But also, I was never really the sporty kind. So I started reading. Reading voraciously. Reading material that was considered weird for a 14 year old. Writing was always a part of who I was since I was a child, watching my grandfather spin magic on paper. It was an absolute delight to read his succinct sentences with just a touch of pompous embellishment that will make you go “Oooooh, that sounds rich”. My father on the other hand has a very distinct structured style of writing. There is a method, a metre, a process behind it.

So, I read and wrote and spoke and made this “my thing”. A niche, if you will. I became known for my passion for the language. This continued throughout my teens and still does. But only now, after I have started blogging, I realise how pretentious I sound.

Now I like to dress up. I like to be a bit girly. I like pink. I like the goth look too. I want to look simple and clean cut, but also edgy and flashy. I want to enjoy rap and I want to enjoy Eric Clapton. I want to be able to chill with the boys and pardy with the girls. I want to be everything there is to be. I want to be committed, but I want to have fun too. I want a highly intense corporate job, but I want to work for the underprivileged too. I want to be every single personality I see. Maybe I’m moody. Maybe I’m a chameleon. Maybe I have ADD and I get bored too easily. Maybe I’m so confused out of my mind that I don’t know my head from my behind.

A poem by Sylvia Plath comes to mind.

“I can never read all the books I want. I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited.”

Point is, I am allowed to be all this. To want all this. To become all this.

Why not? Why not, if I believe I’m capable of it?

Stop labelling. Stop stereotyping. Stop fitting human beings into convenient little boxes in your head. No amount of personality tests and aptitude tests is going to tell you who you are.

The question is not who are you? It is who would you like to be?

You aren’t lost. You are yet to be created. 

I am creating who I am. And who do I want to be?

Right now, this very instant, I want to write. I want my voice out there in the open, however pretentious it may seem.

I know for a fact that there are people who are million times better than I am, who can string words in a sentence like pearls on a necklace, who can make paragraphs flow seamlessly, who can make English seem like the God’s language, yet who don’t seem to strut around like they own the place.

Did I get served a piece of the proverbial humble pie? Maybe.

Has it shaken the very core of who I thought I was? Yes.

But does it mean I stop doing what I do? ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Maybe on the larger scheme of things, what I write may be insignificant. But it is significant to me. It is significant because it helps me build who I am. It is significant because every time I am able to put up a post, I know I started out trying to convey something and I was successful at it. That’s all writing is for. And yes, that makes me a writer.

Someday, I might have a million dollar publishing deal with hundreds of fans and a booker prize and all that shabang. But until then, these baby steps will teach me to walk, to fall, to crawl and to run.

And one day I shall run. I shall run.

You are the deadliest, my love

The bells tolled once again,
And the woman shrieked upon your arrival
She pulled down her curtains and double-checked her locks
She prayed to the gods to be spared.

She built walls, high and strong
Impenetrable, or so she thought
You broke through, brick by brick
She came apart piece by piece

You marched on ahead,
steadfast in your mission
You made your throne
in her heart

She struggled, disobeyed and violently rebelled against you
Once had been enough, she was through
But you claim your victims as you please
And she was just another

Enslaved in your illusion,
Trapped in the dreams you spin
She danced to your tunes
Without a care, without a choice

Unwelcome, unwanted, undesired
A dictator with no decorum
She sees you for who you really are
But who are you, really?

A guest, a ghost, a reward or a curse
Benevolent in creation and merciless in destruction
Asphyxiated by desire, she wails
For her doom awaits her and she carries it in her heart

I Just Want To Listen To Music.

If there is one thing you should know about me, it is how much I love listening to music. It could be any kind of music. I don’t care. Pop, Rock, RnB, Bollywood, Jazz, Dubstep.. I’m your girl. But then, you should also know this, that when I do not get my daily music fix, I’m just like any withdrawing addict. I’m cranky, dysfunctional and just not in the mood for mundane BS.

The only hurdle that I therefore face in this process, are my earphones. With their size zero wires, flimsy ear buds and impossibly short life spans, this basic accessory is my lifeline. It is my ticket out of unnecessary small talk, eternal boredom and deafening silences.

I was recently travelling by the public bus and anyone who has ever travelled in one must know this, that surviving this bus journey without music is hard. Very hard.

You have weird uncles staring at you for no good reason, observing just how many times you blink and look away hastily, in fear of grabbing their attention. The occasional drunk who somehow manages to find a seat that is just too close for comfort. The aunties who stand by your seat staring at you in an effort to coerce you into giving away your seat. The scampering that takes place to grab that seat in that short span of time it takes for you to get to the exit of the bus.

The reason I say you cannot survive this bus without your earphones is  because it doesn’t matter how much conscientious effort you take to steer clear of such characters, there will surely be a time when you will be cursed at for not being able handle yourself in the rodeo ride of a bus, glared at for being in the way, shouted at for moving too fast, yelled at for moving too slow.

But, lo behold, you pop your earphones in and you can literally forget the world because while you are stuck standing in a bus, sweating and suffocating in the sweltering heat, in your mind you are off living the fast life with 2 Chainz and Tunechi. It doesn’t matter that the lady next to you is muttering under her breath about you, because all you care about is the number of expletives that are being dished out in a 3-minute song.

But that particular day, I confidently plugged in my latest one-month old pair of earphones (that was gifted to me BTW), and hit play, waiting to decipher Lorde’s latest cryptic track when I found out that I was deaf in one ear. (As if it was a piece of cake before)

Now, this deaf-in-one-ear situation is still an acceptable scenario, compared to the times when your earphones cannot decide if they want to function correctly or not. It starts playing mind-games with you and you cannot decide whether you are actually losing your power of hearing or your brand new earphones have bailed on you again. (Frankly, the dilemma is unnerving because you sometimes really wish for the former).

So, now you hear the lyrics like this:

“On throats… between teeth.. skin.. love.. see on screen.. throw my hands up.. wants is release”

Trying to hold your phone and the cord of your earphones just so that you can finally hear with both ears again is an acrobatic task and after a long day, the idea of spending my travel time playing ‘now you hear me, now you don’t’ with my music JUST. AIN’T. FUN.

And, then of course comes the mother of all hassles – the awkward, forced conversations that you must indulge in just because it is politically correct.

“Hi, are you going far?”

“Umm, yes. One of the last few stops actually.” (My biggest mistake)

“Ohh, are you working nearby?”

“No, no. I’m a student.” (Yes, I get that a lot)

“Which college?”

I stare at her for two seconds wondering how that information is relevant to her in any form or fashion. I still give it anyway and invariably it turns out that either her friend’s sister’s daughter, her niece, her brother-in-law’s cousin’s son, her neighbour or just anyone I have no idea about, or no hope/interest of meeting in the future , is studying there or planning to study there.

And, god forbid if that so happens, then you are grilled about it to the point where you consider getting out of the bus much before your original destination, just to escape her.

“So, your college is very good?”

(No, i go there because I have a special interest in checking out sub-par colleges 30 kms from my residence.)

Me: “Yes, in fact our faculty are very well qualified and its one of the better colleges in the city”

“Ohh, but I have heard its very expensive and students are very lackadaisical.”

(Should I take offense right now?)

Me: “No no, not at all. Such students are there in every college, but it does not define the student population.”

By now, the journey has gotten to a point where I’m hanging onto the pole of the bus for dear life with my shit heavy bag and slowly dwindling energy. I’m tired, hungry and desperate for some D Guetta.

But no. No respite.

The aunty is still unconvinced and is trying to find some other way to attack my chosen place of education.

“But it is full of high-fi students noh?”

(Read, rich, spoilt, good for nothing brats who don’t give a damn how much money is being spent on them. Now, i’m definitely offended.)

Me: “No, aunty. It is a good mix of students from everywhere.” (with an aggressive expression and an edge in my voice)

Finally, she decided to drop asking questions and just starts ranting instead. She went on and on about the hot, humid weather, the lack of facilities in the city, her difficulty therefore in getting things done, her husband’s lack of cooperation/understanding.

Just when she started mouthing off about men and their various distinctive behavioral patterns (for my benefit of course. I will be married someday too), she had to get off.

I thanked my guardian angel profusely and ran home that day with a vengeance like no other.

I fired up my laptop and ordered that bloody pair of earphones, even though I know its only a matter of time before this too shall bite the dust.

But, I have come to realize (quite painfully) that peace of mind is invaluable.

P.S: It’s been a year since I started out on the blogging scene. Thank you so much for your feedback and support.

For The Chatty Ones.

There are times when things really get through to you. You don’t really know why, but it kind of hits you from out of nowhere and it occupies a predominant portion of your mind and time.

And the one thing on my mind for the past few days, is how much I talk in general. I love conversations and I would like to assume that I am a good conversationalist. But I got to thinking as to how people in general don’t understand the importance of the chatty section of the masses.

You know who you are.

You are the one who has probably gone home with a “Talkative child” in your report card since the the time you could string alphabets into words. You are the one who talks out of turn. You are loud, have a weird laugh and can’t stay quiet for nuts. You hate awkward silences and are the first to break them. In fact, you are the one who thinks being silent is awkward in itself.

And by you, I mean me. I mean us. I mean, all the loquacious people who touch our lives from time to time.

Shutting the hell up is a skill that does not come easy to us. In fact, it doesn’t come to us at all. Not even if we welcome it with open arms, a soda and a box of pizza. THAT is how unfriendly we are with that skill. (I mean, who refuses pizza?)

We are the kind of people you don’t take to the movies with you. We talk, hoot in the theatre, whistle when the hero takes his shirt off, swear at the villain, express dismay jarrlingly and not to forget, comment on the way the female lead looks in the film. And it doesn’t help that we seem so much at ease doing it, even though we are making you utterly uncomfortable and frankly slightly annoyed. (Read: donkey from Shrek)

In short, we have an opinion on everything and we defend our standpoint like we are fighting for our birthright.

But the truth of the matter remains that no matter how much people hate us for being this way, everyone secretly wants to be us. We are the life of a party, the center of attention (hey, you need someone to take the heat when you are off being dumb somewhere in the corner) and the shoulder people run to when they need a friend. We can lighten your mood, take a joke, crack jokes and let you be yourself.  The ultimate ice-breaker, we don’t need to be told how to have fun. Because we find something amusing in everything we do.

We love people and everything to do about them. (Okay, that is a bit of a stretch. Even for me. But, you get the point.)

Besides, if everyone was quiet and seemingly deep, nobody would ever talk “until they were comfortable with one another”. (Which, of course could take decades because who is going to get the ball rolling?). And that would just be a waste of the wonderful gift we possess which is the ability to talk and communicate with one another. (You would that is why we evolved as a species with highly developed speech)

So, thus, I end my rant with the fact that the world needs both quiet and loud people just like we need good and bad.

Why?

To understand, acknowledge and appreciate the difference between the two. (Which is which, is up to you to decide)

 

The New Year, New Me Bullshit

Before you start reading any further than these few words, if you are the kind that DOES believe in the above mentioned statement, you are wasting your time. However, if you are curious to know why hundreds of people worldwide believe in this theory, then do read on!

I’m sure you can tell by now, that I totally believe in the “new year, new me” propaganda.

Why?

I’ll get to that.

But first, why do people call it bullshit? Why are there so many internet memes with poor Mr. Downey Jr.’s face that has been clicked half way through his sneeze with this caption?

How is that the change of the date miraculously change our lives?

Is the day suddenly going to be 30 hours long instead of 24?

Are we going to develop special super-powers?

Or is someone suddenly going to transfer a large sum of money into your account?

NO.

None of the above is going to happen.

The only change that is going to happen is that we are all going to start writing 2014 instead of 2013. (Some more easily than others. I can never get the bloody date right).

But what it CAN do, if we choose to let it (like all things we experience in this world) is that, it can provide us with a reason to start over. An excuse to drop all the anxieties, fears, regrets and guilt we may have picked up along the way.

It gives us the freedom to be whoever we choose to be. Though we have this freedom at any given time of the year, the new year symbolizes a fresh start. Starting with a fresh haircut, a makeover, a new house, job, girlfriend/boyfriend etc. It allows us to VIEW our life differently. A second chance if you will… only it comes every 12 months.

A friend of mine posted a status on new year that seemed very apt to the way I view things right now:

“Like birds, let us leave behind what we don’t need to carry… Grudges, Sadness, Pain, Fear And Regrets.”

Consider the scenario wherein you are in a boat. You have to cross a lake (the old-fashioned way). You have oars to help you move forward and you do so. If you pay attention to this simple detail, you will notice that in order to propel the boat forward, you have to move the water backwards.

The same applied to climbing a ladder or crossing a rope bridge. You have to let go of the grip you have of the bridge on one hand in order to move forward. Or let go of the foot on the step of a ladder to climb another.

Considering it metaphorically, if the boat happens to be you and the water happens to be Life, then you push back on all things past, in order to move ahead in life to get to the other side. Otherwise, you are stuck floating in and around where you always were. This past, good or bad, must be let go at some point or the other. And so we push back and drop it at the dawn of the new year. We leave behind everything we don’t need to carry. Hence, the term “New Me” is coined because you are quite literally shedding all that you don’t want or need in your future. You only carry the promise of a better life, a happier tomorrow, a slightly more evolved self and a chance at feeling fulfilled and contended.

You could probably call it fooling yourself because technically it is just one day rolling into the other. But the mind is fickle and it is childish. The meddling monkey as ever, it requires to be manipulated into believing in the goodness of tomorrow. After all, hope and faith is what drives us everyday. That is why millions of us wake up everyday and carry on with our lives. So why not just use this as another excuse to be more hopeful. Right?

P.S: Though it is well past new year, this was something that was formulating in my head for a few days before I could jot it down in a sensible way. I hope 2014 treats all of you kindly. All the very best.

Boredom. Period.

……. …….. ……  …… ……

Yes, Hello.

Welcome back to my blog. I’m bored.

Guess what, I have a boring title. Why?

Because I’m bored.

Why have I taken so long to write another post?

Because I was bored. (To the extent, I started googling ideas and things to do when one is bored and alone. And, I realised there were many others like me and I felt slightly better about myself)

Trying to write something meaningful can be exhausting. It requires one to conjure up a thought, formulate a plan and mould it into a reasonably sane post. And all this while, I was waiting for inspiration to strike without realizing I was sitting on a granite mountain. BOREDOM.

There is a time in everyone’s life and particularly with the present and forthcoming generations of young adults where boredom plays a HUGE role in our lives. There we are, going through the motions of life when suddenly we are left alone without a single constructive thought or a basic outline of action. This particularly happens when one has a hectic schedule and has a long holiday. I mean, how long can a person eat, sleep and watch TV? (Wow, did I just say that?)

Now with ample evidence to show you that I’m bored, let me continue my rant.

It has been my general observation that we are bored very easily, obviously since we have developed the memory of a goldfish and the attention span of a …. well a teenager that lasts just about 30 seconds to a minute. (Why do you think advertisements are becoming more in number and shorter in length?) No amount of internet, TV, video games can quench our thirst for entertainment or stimulation. So much so, that even kids as young as 4 and 5 years old insist on staying at home than going out to play.

Were human being always this excessive? Did we always have such exorbitant demands and such high ambitions where satisfaction and contentment are virtually non-existant?

I don’t think so.

I think somewhere along the way as people started becoming more comfortable financially, the market expanded simultaneously with these crazy inventions, gadgets and toys, we lapped it up with a ginormous appetite that is only increasing at an alarming rate. So who’s blame here? The people who put these out in the market? Or, us for buying it without a second thought?

……… ………… …………

(Wait, what was I saying?)

……………….

……………….

(Now, how many times have you heard or said that?)

Even now, the presence of disorders such as ADD and ADHD have become so commonplace that we are forgetting that these aren’t natural like headaches. I’m not trying to create stigma, but I’m saying that there is something seriously wrong with the way we choose to lead our lives and guide our children. These are some basic lifestyle choices that we simply choose to ignore because it more convenient for us to work or do more “important” things. Why else would obesity be so rampant? And the associated psychological scarring that occurs such as low confidence, lack of self esteem, body-image issues, aggression etc.

Nothing is harmful unless consumed in excess. And we live in an era of excess.

“Anything goes as long my list of priorities are met or not disturbed.”

Now, whenever I raise this point, people tell me, why shouldn’t I want to aspire for more? Why should I restrict myself? Why should I establish boundaries when I have the capacity to push and be better?

Agreed, but at what cost? What are you losing? Health? Happiness? Contentment? Time? Relationships?

We persevere through the hurdles that life throws at us to get somewhere. But the rate at which we are pushing ourselves, we may not be alive to enjoy the fruits of our labour. Or sane enough to do so.

Let us do ourselves a favour and not drive ourselves insane.

Message from blog post 8: Stay happy, Stay contented. Limit yourself. Not your ideas. Not your dreams. But your methodology behind following your dreams and making it come true. Stay within your principles. Have principles. So ahead of the festive season, moderate and monitor yourself.

Preserve the unique gift you possess and that is this life as your respective self.

A very merry Christmas to all of you. Breathe deeper, smile longer, keep calm and keep it simple.

P.S: Thank you Google. You’ve been the cornerstone to my creativity. May you continue to support many others like me.

Imperfect is the new Perfect.

Hello everyone. Its been a very long time since I wrote something creative or constructive. I sincerely believe in writing to make a point and thus far my life has been such that, I haven’t been able to arrive at a conclusion with my thought processes. I keep going off-track, letting my thoughts run its course and I have realized that its never-ending. I haven’t been able to arrive at a reasonable conclusion enough to write up something about it.

But then, yesterday happened. And, suddenly the world, my world started spinning on a different axis.

Have you ever had someone call your bluff? Someone see right through you?

And how do you react at that very moment? Defend yourself vehemently? Breakdown and accept everything he/she has said is true? 

Someone called my bluff yesterday and to be very honest, I was shocked. I was shocked that my desperate attempts to hide whatever is imperfect within me, was plainly and clearly visible to an someone who I just got acquainted with. 

And what do you do when you are in shock? You sit quiet, ashen faced. Staring at the other person blankly while nothing .. I mean absolutely nothing comes to your mind. No witty reply, no sarcastic comment, no juicy comeback. NOTHING. 

And you know the disturbing part in all of this? That I was shocked. Not at his psychic skills or at the fact that he was able to exactly pinpoint the imperfections, but that now everyone knew exactly what was wrong with me (even if I hadn’t acknowledged it with a comment). 

Then I got to thinking, as I always do…

Why the hell are we so afraid to be imperfect? Why are we chasing after everything that’s wrong within us with a murderous vengeance? Why are we obsessed with our so-called flaws, our weird traits, our inexplicable likes and dislikes, our habits… why do we keep going at ourselves with a chisel and hammer, cursing at Nature for its thoughtless design and partiality.

So what if we are not the smartest person in our respective social circles, or the bravest, or the strongest, or the most beautiful or the most handsome. So what if someone seems to have the spotlight? So what if there is someone always better than you?  

News Flash: There always is going to be someone better than you. 

Does that mean you stop trying to be better? No, of course not! 

We all assume we have a different purpose in Life and that our journey through the mortal realm is to figure out that purpose and finish it. I don’t think the Universe has such a complicated design. I think the only purpose each of us have is to be better by our own standards. To be better than what we were when we sought out to correct the numerous manufacturing defects we possess. The others are merely a milestone that you may or may not want to achieve. 

At the end of the day, each of us possess our own set of skills which we may or may not be aware of and discovering this wonderful little secret is what makes life interesting and exciting. Finding out you are better than anyone else at the one thing is fulfilling enough. Or it should be, I presume. (I haven’t found the one thing I’m better at than anyone else either)

RIGHT? 

.

.

.

WRONG. 

And that’s how we make the mistake. We don’t need the one thing to feel fulfilled. Why do we want to be accepted by others so badly? Why do we require that stamp of approval to make ourselves feel worthy or complete?

NO. We are perfect just the way we are. Because nobody is the same throughout their lives or through every situation. We are a sum total of our experiences and we keep experiencing until we die. So, there is no permanent sum total. There is only sum total for the time being. Which is why the phrases, “life is full of second chances” and “time heals everything” makes sense. (Yes, and also FTW).

Being imperfect is the only way to be perfect in this world. 

Blog post 7: Accept yourself the way you are. Don’t wait for the world to give you the go-ahead. There will never be a unanimous decision anyway. 7 billion people on the planet… the odds are not in your favour.