Your Sunshine

Source: wallpaper.com

Poof!
She'd stepped back into her room. There it was, the constant reminder of all the things undone.

The world to her was a buzzing workhouse of intimidating prodigies, wherein she sat watching her confidence slowly ebb away. The seconds on the clock ticked away in mockery of the increasing amount of time she idled by. Obligations and responsibilities came thrashing down her back one after the other, boring a hole right into the ground she so firmly held on to until now, burying herself deep into a pit she believed to never be able to escape from.

I am India's Daughter

Parivartravels

A cozy bed, newspaper ahead, and a nice cup of tea.
A perfect morning it was to be.
Flipping through pages of the paper and this photo is chanced upon.
This merry photo of little boys playing football in the beach.
Just another photograph of kids relishing the summer heat.
Just another game for the boys in the beach.
And yet this photo held something more; something that tingled my nerves.
This harmless picture rekindling the rebel soul itching to break out.
A gush of impulse springing from the shackled freedom within.

Introversion

Mirror Balls & Confetti:  We are the quiet ones

They sat in the same table like good old friends with so much to catch up on.

She stood in the corner with her cup, watching them.

Two choices lay before her. Awkward fake courtesies, or comfortable solitude.

The Transition

Source: Wilkinson 

Board topper. Best outgoing student of the year. School leader. Everybody had a similar story to tell. And yet here we were with blank heads in the exam hall.

A Solitary Euphoria

A Solitary Euphoria ; source: comments20.com

“Don’t open the door if it’s someone unfamiliar.”

“Okay mom.”

“Keep the balcony closed. And chain the door too, and in case someone does-“

“-I’ll be fine ma! “

“Okay okay, lock the door. Bye. Call if you need something okay?”

“Yeah okay, bye.”

FYI, my mom isn’t going away to England, she’ll be back by evening. And no, this isn’t my first home-alone time. But then, moms will be moms. Shaking my head, I went back to my study. I stood there staring at my textbook and it stared right back at me. My eyes slowly risked a glance to my bed, and then darted back to my book, lest it found out my thought process.

Walking casually back to my table, as if I were only going to sit and spend the rest of the day with it, I halted yet again.

Should I?

I’m with you.

Owkiie-dokie. So I bid temporary goodbye to my books, grabbed my phone and hopped on to my bed.

You do know that you’ll stay glued to your phone for at least half an hour, don’t you?

And you do know that there’s nothing you can do about it don’t you?

You should clean your bed.

In a Half-hour, please?

Fine.Half-hour.

And so, I went through my routine cycle from FB to Quora to my favourite blogs and back to FB, followed by one or two Ellen DeGeneres interviews, AIB and a couple of music videos.  When I finally wasted away a good deal of my time, I got up, all rejuvenated for the cleaning.

Shall we?

Oh yes we shall.

Music up, blinds down, vibes on….here we go! A large fevicol bottle in one hand (my mike), and the other holding dad’s pants (part of the cleaning process), I danced my way to the living room and back, singing all along. And then reluctantly putting the mike away I resumed dancing with the clothes, making a fold with each beat, and then swinging my way to the closet to keep them in stack.

Naa naa naa naa naa….everybody wanna steal my girl….

Naa naa naa naa naa…..everybody wanna take her heart away….

And before I knew it, the bed bore nothing but my five pillows and a neatly folded blanket. But why should that stop me from the music?

Naa naa naan aa….oh yeah!

I naa-naa’ed my heart out till I ended up flat on the floor. Sigh, so long since I sang out loud…so long since I danced like mad…so long since I got to be with myself! I stay hidden you know, in the inside, and don’t show up unless there’s no one else around.

Then I talk with myself so much, ‘cause not another soul can understand me like I do, I laugh and dream so much, ‘cause not another soul can relate to it all like I do, I smile and do whatever that comes to mind, ‘cause not another soul can know why, like I do.

Presently… my mind turned to its favourite hobby…wandering…

Hey, remember that cute guy from that movie ?

Oh yeah, gawd those eyes…I could just look at them forever!

And there, I rushed over to my laptop to get a glimpse of that heartthrob, and soon found myself playing and replaying his movie.  Uff, that killing look! I reclined on my chair lost in la la land….slowly letting my thoughts to drift over to my crush, and feeling insanely happy to think of him. Then I got up once again slamming the laptop shut, and I ran around the house like a free bird, the way Ranbir Kapoor did in Tamasha. And then I sat down on the floor again, hugging my knees, with a stupid grin on the face.

Aah, such bliss!

I love being with you!

I know right?!

 I wonder if everyone talks to their other side, like I do with you.

 I don’t know, just the mere idea of talking to you seemed absurd to my friends.

Like I said, not another soul can understand this euphoria of mine. They’d call it split personalities. But no one’s going to know about it anyway, about our long conversations, our dreams, and wishes, and secrets together. No one. They say that in the end, you’re alone in this world…but isn’t it enough to just have you? There’s so much more to you than you can even imagine. I know because I discover myself a little more each time I’m on my own. And if I were accompanied by anybody else all the time, that other side would’ve never showed up, and I would’ve never known about that amazing (ahem) side of mine.

And now, I cherish my own company, which somehow forms the elixir of my life.

You know there probably are people who are one and the same inside and out.

Rare.

Aye, rare. But there must be. Lucky them for having themselves as a whole all along.

But then, there’s no fun in bringing you out all the while!

Uh-huh…The less you reveal…

…the more they wonder!

*DinG DOnG*

Mom’s here? Already? Wow, time flies. I went up to open the door and felt the inner me slowly sink back in.

“Did someone come?”

“No ma, no one.” Except for my other side.

“Oh good, you folded all the clothes!”

I grinned. That’s how you satisfy mom when you’re not studying, no questions raised about that. And now, my mood to study had returned, and I was back at my table to resume where I left off.

 I guess that euphoria with the hidden side surfaces mostly because of being suppressed for long. It’s good though, for I sure wouldn’t want to spend my every day in wonderland.That would be a life with no purpose. No. It is enchanting only when once in a blue moon.
So until the next time we meet, dear me, let’s get busy with life!

Dream, Disappear...and Fly !

Dream, Disappear, and Fly ! source: gloveo.com 

"Dream big beta, and do whatever you love, because ultimately you're the one who's going to live your life, and no one else but you will suffer if their choices for you don't match with your own."

Huh. Here I sit, ten days away from board exams, and my mind still refuses to stand still. Torn between the urge to satisfy the well-wishers, and the impulses from the heart. It stays calm on the brink, unable to decide which side to step into. Frightened of taking risks, in want of peacefulness of the mind. And I suppose you mustn't have made head or tail of what I've said so far.

Hello there reader, I'm contemplating who you might be. Some random stranger from Russia, Europe or Australia (As far as my blogger statistics is concerned) who stumbled upon my blog and then left without a word?  Or are you one of those kind strangers who leave behind a small message that makes my day? Or are you one of my friends who remembered out of the blue that I had a blog, and checked for a new post just in case (since they have nothing better to do anyway)?

In any case, I don't see how this random writing triggered from directionless musings will be of any use to you. I write all the same because the peace that I don't find in normalcy is well replaced by the relief that comes out of words. I wish I could call myself a logophile, but I'm afraid my vocab isn't comparable to one who is supposed to be a lover of words.

Let's get back to business; or in other words, the disruption of my calm. Dream. Yes I have a dream, not very well focused, but a dream all the same. Through the past two years I've been nurturing it, giving shape to it, and falling in love with it...only in the end to be told "Oh ho...that is your dream huh? You keep it aside for now, we'll think about it later okay? Now you keep studying what you are studying, never mind if you don't like it, because you are better than many others at it! And I know you will shine in it, I know you will!"

Well, to 'keep aside' is to me 'nurture it further more', only that it makes no sense to simply venture into something else when you know you have a path for your own. And the mind is once again in turmoil as to whether or not I must re-consider my ways.

And yet I know no one can ultimately form a barrier to my destiny, but isn't it naive to do something for the sake of it, because everyone else seems to be doing the same? Life is about taking risks, why wait till the fire within slowly burns out, when you can ignite the world with your spark right now?

If none of this still makes sense, I can only apologize, because to elaborate will be hurtful to some, and I can empathize with all the ones who are there to decide for me, and do not wish to hurt them.

Strangely enough, what I want right now is to disappear into the abyss of wilderness. I want to read every damn book I should've read in the past seventeen years. I want to live a thousand lives through these amazing narratives, and I want to write the millennia of thoughts brimming out of my vagabond mind. I want to be lost in the sea of smiles from the past, and I want to build myself for tomorrow. I want to just be with myself, and and be let free to be. Yeah, I want to go to that land where time does not exist.

Sigh. Its okay, I know. I know that my frustrations are trivial. I know that you have them in your life too, whether you're someone from the other part of the Earth from a different time zone, or someone from my own batch in school with more or less the same situation. That's what makes us one and the same isn't it? All the trauma that makes us question life, and all the love that answers the meaning of existence.

Well then, let me step back into the world of normalcy, where you work, eat and sleep everyday, and occasionally steal some pleasures. And you do the same too. But do stop once in a while, and let your mind wander. As for me, I'm gonna put on my invisibility cloak and disappear into Narnia. I would return after years of magic, but to you the same time would be but a blink of the eye.

Let your mind discover the hidden depths within you, and then you too can join me :)

My Sweet Sixteen

He wanted to know everything that happened that day. What happened on my sixteenth birthday. The most daring day I ever lived, the biggest secret I ever kept. And strangely enough, I wanted to tell him. Him, whom I met ages after our last encounter. Him to whom it didn't matter at all. After so long a time, it would be painful to kindle the memories of the lost bonds, though only one year past. But who wouldn't want to have a tour through the best day of your life once again? Who wouldn't want to give away anything to live that day once more?

And so, I told him. I told him about all the drama that unfolded that day, of all the tensions, anticipations, all the excitement, and happiness. I lived the day once again through the tale. I re-visited the essence of what we had back then. I smiled again like I did that day. I told him everything, and yet how little he knew. I sounded carefree, yet how very far I was from it.

Three hundred and sixty five days later, on the same day that I believed was my best, came a surprise. Unlike that day, I was showered with love with not one, but many. And I was happier than I was then. That was the surprise. Back then, it was most of the adrenalin that took the place of happiness. But now it was different. I couldn't choose which was better, whether to be purely happy, or be happily worried.

It was my birthday, and I thought it was once again the happiest day I ever had. But when I look back now, I realized that it would still be my sweet sixteen that I would remember the most. And I also realized, that I missed what I had back then, despite all the things that made my day special this time.

It isn't everyday that you get nostalgic about your past. And the past often catches up with you when solitude takes your side. But then, when there are the ones who give you better company than solitude, when they can't make you stop smiling, amidst all the laughter and celebrations, if it is still possible to miss that day for whatever it was worth...it means it is something that has touched you for a lifetime.

But yes, past is past. We mustn't hold on to it. Because life goes on, even if we don't. And yes, You Only Live Once. Like I say, you risk it, or regret it. I risked it then. And I don't  regret it.

And now I smile, thanking almighty for what He has blessed me with. Let life take what course it wishes. Until then, I have my memories to kindle, come every birthday of the year. I'll miss you, sweet sixteen. Always

Melancholia

I watched my sister run around, packing her bag. She was going back to her hostel after a month of holidaying with us. The thought of her leaving unusually scared me. She came and left every time, why did I feel differently all of a sudden? For the first time, I really wished she did not have to leave. Home was so easy when with her. Except for her constant chattering that irritates me to hell, she's the life of our home. 

The train to Trivandrum whistled away from us, taking my sister with it. An uneasiness crept into me. I ignored it on our drive home. The next day in school, I noticed that the uneasiness hadn't left. I wasn't in a mood to talk and laugh. I tried to hide that too, but a few of my friends asked me if I was okay. When I left the classroom, I bumped into someone. Oh hey, that was best friend. She stepped back to have a good look at me. "You're a corpse." she concluded. I grinned at her, feeling light for a second. Before I could have a free conversation with her something came in between. Why was it so difficult for her to find time for me?

I wandered during the lunch break, and met my old gang. But they were preocuppied. I ended up standing among a group I did not belong to. Back in class, there was something to cheer for - my bench-mates had my favourite food. While having those yummy chapathi rolls, someone came by and took away two large ones...and it was all over in an instant. I know it's selfish and irrational, but I was saddened for not getting more chapathi. I was weirder than usual. Annie, where are you?

I hopped off the school bus. It was raining, only to add up to my melancholy mood. My companion and I were quiet on our way home. I recalled the days we couldn't get enough of our hour-long discussions. I raised my arms,  and let the raindrops meet them. "Doesn't it feel depressing?" I finally said. My buddy looked at me in a strange way, "I don't know." she said, "Maybe it's just you...are you depressed?" I said nothing. Did I want someone to say that to me? 

I opened the door to my house. Mom was in her clinic. I was relieved to be on my own. I started talking aloud, asking myself what was wrong. I found my voice breaking. This was insane. I did not even know what I was upset about! I wished I had my bestie next to me. I wished there was someone I could speak to. But I didn't know what about. I collected some home-wear and got in for a shower. I tried to laugh it off. I probably misunderstood myself.  I pictured myself telling my friends about it all, and how we ended up laughing. I laughed myself, and did not notice the silver line that turned the laugh into tears. 

I let them out, the tears that came one after the other, not yet realising the cause. All I did know that I was a little scared. But I don't know of what. I always thought I'd chosen solitude. But the uncommon visitor had showed up, loneliness. 

All fresh and clean, I came out dressed. Mom had returned with a guest. I had to present myself well until they left. By the time they did, I wasn't in the mood to tell mom about my strange experience. We chatted about things in general. Strangely, it cheered me up as if I was fine all day. Home felt better than school to me. That doesn't happen all the time. Well, I guess it isn't so surprising that happiness lies wherein there is love. And love lives wherein there is a family, one where we can call 'Home'.

Being a lone wolf

 I crossed the road and stood with the many others in the quarters, waiting for the school bus. My interaction with the fellow-waiters was limited. Somehow, I felt as if I wasn't entirely a part of the group. Our yellow bus honked its way towards us. As we all climbed on, I looked around for my old friend. Nope, she wasn't there that day either. Finding an empty seat next to a little boy, I sat down. He gave me no more than a second glance. 5 years in a row, and I still did not fit in with any gang in the bus either. So that made me a loner.

The boy next to me was avoiding all possibilities for a conversation to spark up. That suited with me. The constant chatter within the walls of the bus was strangely soothing. I looked around for more of my kind. There sure were a few, seated quietly far in the front. I wondered what went on inside their minds.

I was feeling strangely lonely. One would think I'd gotten used to the daily 15 minute journey to school. But I began questioning my solitude. Was it something bad? Will it do me good to make small talk with people I just know? Solitude was so much easier! And yet, I wished some random chatterbox came up to me for a chat. I realized that I was missing someone. Maybe more than just a someone.

Melancholic as it was, I began thinking about what they say about lone wolves. They're the introverts who prefer working on their own, who choose to be alone, who enjoy being with themselves. I don't recall making such a preference. But  rather have somehow ended up this way.

"If you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it's not because they enjoy solitude. It's because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them." ~ Jodi Picoult 'My Sister's Keeper' ( http://lonerwolf.com/solitude-quotes/)

Aftter reading this, I've seen how we end up this way. In fact, I'd disagree with not enjoying solitude. Company of your very self can be much greater than anyone else's. Because not another soul will understand you the way you understand yourself. And now, I've come to admire the lone wolves. They refuse to mingle, because they refuse to be like the rest. They are those brave, independent ones who stand up on their shoes. They ought to embrace their eccentricity that makes them introvert. They aren't one among the millions of simpletons, they are different. We needn't try so hard to fit in if we stand out among the rest.

So if ever you feel isolated, and if ever loneliness creeps in involuntarily, remember that it is because you are one of a kind.

When the Heart speaks

 "So what's your ambition?" came the dreaded question. How embarrassing it was to have nothing to say, to not be able to describe what I really want in life. My sister piped in to my rescue, "Dashy hasn't decided yet. She has interest in journalism, but she's not sure whether to go for it." His eyes shifted to mine, "I've only one thing to tell you dear. Don't give a damn to what anyone in the world says, listen to your heart."

 Right. That must be the gazillionth  time that I've been told the same. Oh yes I understand, that it is always better to follow our intuition, to let the heart win, to make a choice entirely on our own. But the heart has remained quiet for far too long, and my wait for it to speak up has prolonged so much,  that I wonder if it has done it already and if it's just that I never noticed. Why is it that our hearts only give us vague ideas? Why is its voice so dim and soft? Why does it still remain locked up? Why haven't  I found the key to open it yet? I bet my heart is waiting to explode, to shriek out loud, to engulf the world in vibrance.

 And there, that's another paragraph of metaphoric representation of my confused state of mind. So much of clarity in how very muddled my head is, and how it keeps getting messier! All there's need to be done is to get the jigsaw pieces in place, if only I figured where they fit! I guess our hearts whisper all the while, but we simply fail to accept what it wants. When circumstances don't turn out to be favourable, we ignore what the heart says, just to remain on the comfort zone. We wish our hearts wanted something else, something that brings no trouble in our lives. And we begin the search for the same, for something that does not even exist. Why rule out the possibility of it's existence?

And thus the many unnecessary quests draw a veil to what the heart really wants to say. Maybe it is cowardice to not heed our very heart that pumps life into us. And maybe all we need is the guts to open up, and be ready to face the journey in discovering ourselves.

So watch out. Stay awake, 'cause you've got to be there when your hearts speaks.

Dubiousness here to stay

We're nearing the close, the close of the chapter concerning school life. The mixture of emotions would be that of excitement, nervousness and responsibility alike. But most of all, there's the dubiousness. There's one more year to make a choice, this way or that? Or perhaps a so-far-unspoken third path? Which way do I go? As much as there is the urge to get out into the world and make an impact, there's as much doubt if that's what's meant to be. Small disappointments are getting piled up, and before it forms a barrier to the way ahead, I wish to start the journey, and just leave the pile behind. It's the last year in school, and the first day's done. The teachers are doing their job to scare the hell out of us. And our job is to convince them that we're trying, be it true or otherwise.

I keep thinking I'm ready to step out. But then all I need to do is to have a talk with daddy to pull myself way down for I realize that I know close to nothing. Here I sit, wondering if I'll ever figure a way out of this mess. Now that the time's pretty close, I've started considering the option that I was determined to omit.


I still don't have confidence in myself. I haven't even the basic ability to take a decision of my own choice, why you may ask...I'm probably just afraid of choosing wrong. I'm told not to worry about it at all, that what has to come will come. But I can't dodge the questions from around, I can't ignore their warnings of not having a plan, I can't neglect my intuition of starting immediately, I can't just not worry. Worry gets us nowhere, it's true as long as all you do is worry. But if your worry prompts you to act, then my boy, get going!

I'm 17, and I've had a life worth living so far. I wouldn't say I am extremely experienced, but I do have a memorable teenage life, one that's made me what I am today. I doubt a lot more, I empathize every person, and keep believing that everyone would have a reason behind their every act, though I may not always understand them.

My target is a year from now. Will I make a decision by then? Will I shove away my small  wishes, and move along with the tide chasing prestige and money? No matter what the wise say, one cannot deny that we do need money to reach anywhere, unless you are lucky enough to fall in the hands of an angel on earth who'd help you rise. If I still decide to take the path less traveled, how practical would it be? Only as long as I am ready to deal with the consequences, I can move on. Do I have the guts to do that? How much would I know? Wouldn't it be being silly to not heed the advice of the elderly who've lived longer and know better? Like they say, we ought to learn from the mistake of others, for we won't live long enough to make them all ourselves.
We'll see. As I always say, what's meant to be, will be.

BORED !!

 Yesterday I made up my mind to wake up everyday at 6 am and study. And today I laugh at the very idea of it. It's not like the idea is far-fetched for I did get up, only to fall asleep on my table an hour later. How many times do we take such decisions with great determination after all? The excitement is often momentary. I'm sure there are plenty who can relate to being lazy bums like this, but mind you...there sure are people out there who do put their ideas into action!

When we're busy doing a lot of things we want free time. When we get free time we get bored. You could have a look at the status updates of a big portion of school students. On the first day of vacations they go "Yaay! Vacationz! " and 5 days later they're like, "Damn bored with the holidays." What's the most they do about it? Log on to all the social networking sites they're in, surf through the posts, maybe post a comment here and there, chat about completely unimportant things until they're bored enough to log out. Then they're bored again and log in.
          Since the time internet has joined in our 'daily essentials' list, we've lost hold of something called 'hobby'. I myself used to read a lot, but not anymore. I keep thinking I don't have time, but I too have fallen victim like the millions of others, who can't make do without a little bit of time-waste before the screen. But of course, internet is not only about social media and youtube videos. We all must have read and written essays in school about the pros and cons of internet enough times to get bored with that too.

 I wonder as I write, if blogging is of any use at all. Who would read these but my near and dear ones who know that I've made a page to pile up all the rubbish I write. Maybe I could call it a hobby. At a time when people are way too busy to read something irrelevant if it extends more than a paragraph, I here, am writing them. Photographs and quotes, short messages and jokes, they're the modern trend. Who would care for long stretches of a nobody's thoughts?

 There is so much going on in each one of our minds every moment! Except when you're in the middle of a meditation, your mind is probably constantly engaged with random thoughts. If you scrutinize your very thoughts, you'll figure out hidden wonders, however small that might be. I once made a small booklet called the 'Constitution of Dash', scripting my own laws related to school. A friend of mine told me that it was nothing but rubbish. Of course it was! But that is what made it enjoyable! I sometimes write philosophies, sometimes imaginary incidents, sometimes nonsense...and sometimes something that I cannot categorize anywhere. But each time, it is only after I put my thoughts into words that I notice that I had such things in mind. What maybe meaningless to the rest of the world, is a 'wow' factor to me, for these thoughts are mine and only mine.

 My mind never ceases to wander. In fact none of ours' do. Each writing brings me closer to myself, as if uncovering another small piece of what's within me. This very fact keeps me going, and if writing itself can help me wander, wander and enjoy, wander and go wow, then what better way could there be to spend time when bored! Well then, Kudos to writing! Goodbye boredom!