Among other things, iLive

You have compared yourself to several people at some point of life, right? I keep telling myself that the only way to live is "being a better person than I was yesterday."

Honestly, I have sort of started feeling that THAT is a load of crap. Now, I'm no wise sage but I have been observing and introspecting. And I just had this series of moments, where I realised some stuff. 

Live is to learn. That is all there is. 

My hopes, my dreams, my aspirations...these change as I age. What used to be a dream now might be something I have lost interest in- or maybe I have achieved it only to realise that 'well, that was underwhelming.' No, I'm not trying to undermine what we achieve. A lot of times they DO make us feel happy. But happiness is temporary. 

So then, are achieving dreams going to get me to these fleeting moments of happiness? I'd cherish those precious moments but I'm not looking for anything temporary in the long run. 

Well, what then? 

"Inner peace."

I don't know about others but for me, my inner chaos is way more stable. 

I don't live to compare myself to anyone else or even myself. 

I don't live for my dreams that keep shifting.

I don't live to achieve happiness either.

What do I live for then?

I'm living to learn. Add dimensions to my being. To explore. To experience absolute chaos and to ultimately surrender myself to the 'peace' everyone keeps talking about.

But first, I need to understand that comparisons are inevitable but can be controlled.

Dreams and happiness are temporary but are still precious. 

Looking for validation for our actions and decisions is innate.

But, man, you gotta learn. Learning, to me, is the purest action one can do with their lives. What they learn may or may not be approved. As long as you want to learn, you are alive.

So here is hoping that I learn - a lot many things.

Among other things, iSay goodbye

Dear friend,

Hope you have been doing fine. There was a time I wished I knew how you were doing fine or how you were miserable but now I really do hope you are fine. But it stops there. I don’t care if your future is bright or if it is bleak; I have lost interest. I guess this is called the death of a relationship. So I mark myself ‘safe’ in this death.

I missed the times we spent together. I missed it when once you got fascinated by a torn yet colourful mosquito net hanging behind me. I drew strength from you. I loved you.

You sucked the living daylights out of me. I let you. But it has stopped.

All good and bad things.

This is me saying goodbye to you.

I am happy. I do not care if you are. But I do not care if you are not either.

A forgiven and forgotten soul.

Among other things, iOpen up

If you have been following my page and have been reading my blog, it will not come to you as a surprise that I suffer from depression. The disease not the state of mind.

I go to a therapist regularly. I am on medication for anxiety, depression. I know a lot of people who are going through treatment for this and then I know people who are not going through any form of therapy.

What is it like to be depressed? I have been asked that many times. Many asked me to understand me better, others asked me just 'cause they were curious. I told them as much as I could. Even though I suffer from it, it is very difficult to make anyone understand how I feel, 'cause well...I don't know how I feel a lot of times. I cannot process it.

When I came to Mumbai after living a very self-made lonely life in Kolkata, I had so many friends. Then, they started disappearing, gradually. Some just could not keep up with me withdrawing myself or going on a sudden hiatus. Totally understandable. Never blamed them.

I made some friends who were not exactly the right people for my life back then, or now. I don't know if they are 'good' or 'bad'. I don't understand those concepts.

I made bad decisions.
So there are 'actions' and 'consequences'. So obviously I had to own up to my actions. Which I did and will do. But yeah it still hurts me that some people I barely knew just judged me and walked out on me. And then again there were people who knew everything and still walked out when I did my best to not 'offend' them, I guess? Who knows.

There are two sides to a story. My side remains unheard.

Among other things, iFeel

Mumbai is the big city. Full of noise, traffic jams, pace, ambitions...so on and so forth. Many assume, while many complain that nobody has the time to care in Mumbai. You live your day, survive it, afford things you need, indulge in things you don't need sometimes and that sums up one working day in the city. Oh how could I leave out 'Call the cops if you detect any suspicious odour coming from the next door neighbour's place'.
A lot has been said about how the city does not really bounce back after terrorist attacks since people have no choice but to go back to work thanks to it being one of the most expensive cities out there. How people are so full of apathy that they do not even care about their own lives let alone lives of strangers they pass by.
Sounds to me the city is rather robotic, insensitive and superficial.
Well, it is not.
While it is not entirely untrue that apathy persists in the city, but it is not just limited to Mumbai but all over the country. I can vouch for that 'cause I am not from just one city.

When I lived in Mumbai I had a particular incident that I'm going to share here.

I used to be a psychology student and I had my social psychology paper on that day. Now me being me, I was extremely into psychology. I mean EXTREMELY. I read my social psychology book like a freaking novel. So I got obsessed with it :|
So on the day of the exam, I'm sitting in the bus and reading about 'the bystanders' effect' for the thousandth time and suddenly I'm hit with a wave of panic. Yes, folks, you heard me. I trigger social phobia off. So I am in a state of panic and I am sure I cannot recall anything that I have studied (very common dilemma among students, I know).
So somehow I get off the bus at the train station and catch my train. My friend trying to calm me down but I am in another world. She convinces me to at least get on the train and I do. But the moment I step in the compartment my head starts to spin and my stomach is in knots.
"I need to puke", I manage to whisper.
She takes me to the other end of the train's entrance (the one not facing the platform, but the tracks). I hurl out everything I had for breakfast.
Then I just shut my eyes and stand. Then I notice that the train had not moved at all. It was not rush hour, everyone had got on so why was it not moving? I peek out of the compartment and see the train driver looking my way. In a second he moves in and starts the train. He actually waited for me to finish puking.
I was travelling in the ladies compartment, at least 20 women treated me like I was their own kid and some offered me food, water, medicine..a hug.
This city and its people are not insensitive. Those you call it insensitive are probably the insensitive ones. PROBABLY. If you can't see these daily miracles, you have shut the city of 'Mumbai' in the box of 'insensitivity'. May be, just may be, it is time to take another peek into that box. You never know what may change.

Until the next post (hopefully, before apocalypse *oh wait Trump is the President, it has already begun, PERHAPS*)

P.S. Love these 'P' words (yes, even THAT one).

Among other things, iSuck at keeping in touch

To everyone,

Hello! If you are an important person in my life, you already know about it. If not then maybe you aren't, yet, maybe you will not be, ever. But those of you already know, I suck at keeping in touch. But I think about how I do not keep in touch with you and instead of picking up the phone or going over to your place, I choose to beat myself up over how I don't keep in touch and how I suck at it (SO productive, I know). It is a vicious cycle I manage to break from time to time, thankfully.

I just thought it is about time I apologized for being so passive about it and I have decided to be more assertive. I will ensure I make you feel important you freaking awesome important human!

With lots of love,
Me!

Among other things, iExist

Manier times a person comes to a point in life where they look at a person or a bunch of people and say, 'I could not have done this without you.' or 'I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you.'
On the other hand, there will be times when some people will waltz into your life and say, 'You could not have made here without me.'

I understand the first feeling, it is mostly a feeling of deep affection and unwavering gratefulness.
The second, however, is just diluted narcissism. It ain't pure. People who are too rich and full of themselves often consider their roles in others' lives as more important than your role is in your own life. Pity is the only feeling I can spare for them. I have met such people in my life and honestly I do not regret meeting them.
Whenever you encounter people you do not get along with, you can just always walk away or you can stick around to see if it works out. You either make a friend or a mistake. Learn from it. Thank them for making you stronger. And let them be a messiah to others 'cause apparently without them people are doomed!
We are the most intelligent race and we choose to be THIS.
I exist because of my family, who gave birth to me.
I exist because of my friends/partner who stood by me.
I exist because I overcame the mistakes I made.
I exist because I want to exist.
Simple.

Among other things, iChange

Recently, whenever I look into the mirror I see a stranger staring right back at me. My reflection seems to have more character in it than I do. Everyday, the reflection changes - ever so slightly - but enough for me to step back, then step into that reflection. Is it me? Am I so shallow that my reflection is taking over me? Time will tell.

Among other things iLose track

Fleeting moments of the past. How many times have we tried to capture a frame and just freeze it in time? How many times have we thought so much about the past that we completely forgot about what lies ahead of us? How man times have we lost track of the present?

I have been told that nostalgia is a feeling that almost always ends up making us feel not quite happy. We arrange and rearrange our memories. We desaturate what was a flaring red to a dull grey; we make parts we want to remember so vibrant that it fades everything else away. Why do we cling to the past so vehemently? Letting go of the past does not mean forgetting about it, of course. But clinging to it? Definitely unhealthy. Expecting things to go back to how they were? Truely unhealthier. Yearning to go back and changing decisions/choices? Tsk.

Time hurts and time heals. But time does not go back, it only moves forward. The only time machine that is going to exist is our (at times, very biased) minds; taking us back and forth. Faster than the speed of light we can go back to our childhood memories.

Learning to know when to look back and when to stop - then look straight ahead is what needs mastering, and again, it takes time - does it not?

Among other things, iHang on

Part 1

In the land

Of blinding chaos

Amongst you and me

Between infinite layers

There is something

I should hold on to

I should find it

And I should find it soon

I know not where I stand

I know not where I will be

For I am crippled by an unknown dread

Am I dead?

Or am I just...

Hanging by a thread. [to be continued].

Among other things, iShare

I have had a weird way of looking at the world. I used to think, only good things happen to good people and if a bad thing happens to them, their goodness is being tested. Till I was around 22 years old, I held on to this belief. Then one day, I wished for my life to get tough while walking home from station. Those of you who believe in God will be happy to know that my 'prayer' was granted. Life got messy, it kept getting messier and I kept thinking, this is a test and I will not fall. But I did. I fell and whenever I tried to get back up, on my knees, I was kicked back. By life. I struggled to stand. But no. Then I thought maybe I will kneel to life and stay on my knees, too afraid to move. It pushed me down, beat me up shoved me in a deep dark cave. I lay down on my back and stared at the cracks of the dark cave and lost all my will to get back up. I stayed there for days, months, years...I shifted to a tunnel with no light at the end of it. I kept walking slowly, occasionally being shoved down; always afraid a train would come and hit me from somewhere (I know this sounds really punny :|). Anyway, this is what depression was for me. And still is.

My rendezvous with the darkness happens from time to time. I am shut. There is no light. However now there is a small but very important exception. There is a tiny window that sheds light from time to time. Like there is a lighthouse outside trying to save a ship from sinking on a stormy night.
I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has been supportive. You have no idea how much it means to me. How much it helps me to hold on and not give in.

Thank you. And if I seem rude and distant, it is just me, in the cave, waiting for the light.

Love you!

Among other things, iConnect

Saw the first few episodes of Jessica Jones. Really liking it. So this is for you, Jessica:

I thought I thought

But it was you all along

I thought I’d sing

A little song

About the scar you left

On my eyes

Everything I see

I see through your ways

So am I still thinking

Is this still my head?

Is it still my will?

Is it still my say?

Was it always me all along

Am I still the one singing this song

Am I still strong...

Enough to see I’m not wrong

Am I strong enough to see

I am weak

That I’m really really weak

I mutter the names of fucking streets

Do I even want to forget

Do I even want to fight

Do I know that I was right

You and I

Are we the same?

At the end of a tiring day

Tonight I will sleep

Just sleep

No nightmares

No, no more

Just sleep, without you

On my bed

Alone

Without you.

Among other things, iVoice

"Who are you? Where are you?!", demanded a frustrated voice.
"I wonder who am I? Where am I?", a calm voice replied.
"Why can't I see anything?!" I can see you, though. "What is happening here!!"  Who knows?
"Would you believe me if I said I am as clueless as you are?"
"I don't care about what you feel!" Neither do I.
"Why can't I open my eyes...? Why...?", the frustration still intact, the voice broke..
"Why can't I see..?", the voice said between sobs "I want to see.."
"Your eyes are open.", said the calm voice, with a cold edge now.
"Then am I blind... "
"Yes, you always were."
Sobs. More sobs. Helpless sobs. Muffled sobs. Tired sobs.
Hours. Days. Weeks. Years. Decades.
"Who are you...Where are you..?", the voice searched for the other.
"You have been silent...please talk to me...release me."
A long silence.
Minutes. Hours.
"Who are you?! Where are you?!", followed by a hysterical scream. Screams that went on for hours, clouding the voice, killing the voice.
"Now you are mute too."
"The years of bawling, finally ends." 
Silence.
"Who am I?"
"Where am I?"
Silence, finally.
"You asked the wrong questions, all along."
"The question is, who are you? Where are YOU!", a scream, followed by more silence. Good.

"For I am nothing. I am nowhere."

"LET us go then, you and I,

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherized upon a table;

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

The muttering retreats        

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent

To lead you to an overwhelming question….       

Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”

Let us go and make our visit."

- The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, T. S. Eliot.

Among other things, iAdvise

Mistakes. We all make 'em. Knowingly, unknowingly; but we make 'em. But what about the part that is called 'post-mistake making guilt' stage? So you made a mistake. I make a hundred every day! Okay, okay! I'll give you a realistic figure...I make a THOUSAND mistakes every day.
But that is besides the point. I used to be a slave to my mistakes for a very long time. I still bask in the glory of that guilt from time to time but, I feel it really needs to stop. You made a mistake, learn from it and move on. You make a mistake you learn from it, but you repeat it. Either way, the mistake is going to be in the past. So my advice (if you don't want it, go away) would be that make mistakes but do not be a slave to it. And then be afraid of trying something new or stepping out of your comfort zone. 'Cause let's be real, you are going to fuck up, you might as well be well-saddled for it. So go ahead, make a mistake, fail, hurt people. But just remember one thing, that actions will have consequences so you might want to work on learning from the mistake and not being a freaking slave of it for the rest of your life!
Time-travel! So you are about to make a mistake and you know it is a grave one. Tell yourself that 'Buddy, I am the future you, and this mistake is going to hold you back for a good number of years and it is going to crush you under the gigantic mountain of GUILT. So stop. Do not do it. Make a smaller mistake. Indulge in a cheese cake instead."
Time-travel, I tell you, solves EVERYTHING. Except it can destroy your hometown like Arcadia Bay (#lifeisstrangereference). So here is my two cents:

Among other things, iQuote

Trying something new? Let us see if I stick with it :) This is not to encourage anyone to take their lives but to do the opposite. If anyone feels they are worthless and want to take their life, I feel they need to feel their presence and then realise what their absence would do. So this is a quote I came up with. The image is poor quality and my handwriting is bad and it sounds so horribly emo, but to me it is not. Anyone who ever feels alone is always welcome to talk to me. I will help. Cheers!

Among other things, iPause

I have been looking for a ‘pause button’, honestly. And I looked everywhere and I tried everything. I drowned myself in social media, kept myself quite isolated and kept all windows shut. But, I swear, there is no ‘pause button’ in life. No matter what I did, I could not stop life from happening. It put me through tough challenges, like it puts everyone through. I wasn’t an exception, after all. Life treated me like it treated everyone else – indiscriminately, unfairly – and sometimes surprising me with rewards I didn’t think I deserved. 

I don’t think life is all about getting stronger or it is all about moving forward and getting better. I have learnt it is a process, where you move back and forth. Between strength and weariness, between what lies ahead and what is left behind, between wounds and pleasures, between the better and the worse. 

So here I am, sounding all wise but I am struggling, making mistakes anddd still searching for that pause button from time to time :P so it is mostly between being a hypocrite and being honest to thyself too u_u (at least for me :\)

That's all for now :D Next post....will be up within an inconsistent period of time -_-;
 

Among other things, iTry

I have decided to post all spontaneous poems that sneak up on me :) No matter how good or bad it is, irrespective of how incomplete and clichéd it gets. The purpose would be to encourage myself to write without expecting everything to be epic in nature. In short, to open a little window and to enjoy my silly words.

Here is one that happened a few mins ago:

Once upon a time
a story unfolds
of a young spirit
with a heart of gold
a story unfolds
a story untold?
more like a story
told to death
a story of hopelessness
and of unwavering faith
a story of how it ends
all well
how it is all swell
a story with
a happily ever after

How about a story
with a happily never after?
A tale that chases its tail
comes back to square one
a story where
people don't fight but run.

Tada!

Among other things, iRant

Ranting is good :\ At least I love it. So I crack my knuckles and let the first beautiful rays of a spectacular rant that I have been wanting to rant about dawn upon this gorgeous barren of a blog, while sprouting unnecessary descriptive details leading to this extremely long, grammatically questionable intro.


STRIKE ONE:

From the very intro of this post, it can be well established that unnecessary descriptiveness TOTALLY kills the mood, while not using descriptions makes everything so...blah. On the other hand, necessary descriptions at the right moments can take the readers to a visual paradise. Knowing the balance is the real challenge.

Since I am a pretty bad writer myself, allow me to demonstrate:

"He caressed the exposed angular part of elbow, while gazing deeply into her haunting black pupils that dilated due to the shadow his perfectly apricot-shaped head cast on her face through the shimmering golden rays of the gothic, black Victorian lamppost that stood elegantly behind them."

Vs

"They made out."

I wish I could demonstrate, what according to me is, a good descriptive text but alas I lack severely in that department so I shall borrow something:

"When I return to that house it will be with my son in my arms. I shall have a red coat on him and red-flowered trousers and on his head a hat with a small gilded Buddha sewn on the front and on his feet tiger-faced shoes. And I will go into the kitchen where I spent my days and I will go into the great hall where the Old One sits with her opium, and I will show myself and my son to all of them." ~ The Good Earth, Pearl S. Buck.

I highly recommend the book to anyone who has not read it. If you wish to know more about this book, go here . Reading the summary may ruin the book for you so I'd not recommend that.

The level of descriptiveness a person likes is also subjective, like everything else on the face of this planet. Trying to steer clear of generalisations is hardddd.


STRIKE TWO:

You get home. You are exhausted. It was a 100 degrees outside and you are on the brink of evaporation. You need water, and fast. After running a quick glace around the room your brain spots a bottle of the elixir you crave for (aka 'water'). You go for it. Those few steps that separate you from the bottle seem like miles but you are a soldier on a mission and your mission is to get to the damn bottle!
You take the final step, snatch the bottle as if it were the One ring, Gollum style. You have your preciousss and now you must devour it. Twist the bottle cap with all the strength that's left in you, ignoring every other sense than the burning pit that plagues your mind and throat, and take that sip. The sip of redemption, the sip of life, the sip of sanity...



...the sip of....SPRITE. Where’s my water??? No not the Disney game!

I smite thee Sprite. You ain't no water, you fizzy lil fancy fake!

Clear fizzy drinks are evil. But I do love them on other occasions.

STRIKE THREE:

We love looking good. Being perceived as an attractive person is important to people. It's in the genes, can't escape that without putting up a fight. But I find looking attractive ALL THE TIME a little tiring.

People talk about inner beauty being important mostly as a condolence. Do you fucking know how difficult it is to be a good person?! I mean, there is no clear definition of the word 'good' or 'person'! And of course, looking great outside is a good deal of work as well.

Sometimes we have the resources to be beautiful inside-out. Sometimes, just one of the two. Sometimes neither. Life can get really really tough and we should be allowed to look like crap 'cause hey, we feel like crap and may be we cannot shave or put on make-up or do either :\ Heck, sometimes I don't feel like crawling out of my bed to perform basic sanitisation rituals.

Just surrounding oneself with people who let you be hideous\beautiful without having to apologise for it is a quest in itself! Just ensure that you are taking care of yourself while you tide through your storms :)

Well, three strikes and you're out!

More strikes to follow since iRant A LOT. 

Firsts!

First post.

First kiss.

First cry.

First loss.

First fright.

First lie.

First second.

First love.

First try.

First day of the rest of your life(?)

First life.

Life is full of firsts. Cheers to all the firsts that lead to seconds and also those that meet a dead end.

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