When Your Plans Don't Work Out

Source: istockphoto

"What do you really want to do in life?"

I raised my eyebrows. It wasn’t an uncommon question, especially to a teenager who is in the most confused phase of her life. Here it was again, on a normal afternoon and in the middle of a casual conversation; the dreaded question. You think of dodging it by simply giving away an answer, but to some of them, it’s never enough.

 "I told you. I want to be a writer."

"That's not what I meant." He continued, "Say, what are you going to write about? What are you going to do with your writing? What is it that you want to do with your life before you die?"

Choices

Source: worlartsme

"Are you sure?" He asked the six-year-old. Here it was again, the crossroad of choices. The tiny mind was plagued with the fear of picking the wrong choice. She looked up at her mom desperately for hints, as if answering this question depended on life itself.

To her relief, mom nodded encouragingly. It was one of those lucky times when there was someone else by her side to give the green signal. Having gotten the approval, she turned to the salesman holding up the cute pink dress from across the counter. "Yes I'm sure." she chirped confidently.

Blank.

source: pixers.it

An eery silence is floating in the exam hall. There's the mild ruffle of answer sheets and the sound of scratching pens cutting the quiet in the room. My gel pen slips through my sweaty fingers, landing noisily on the floor. It takes forever for me to retrieve it from beneath the bench.

It's not over yet. I still have enough time to finish, right? Right?!

"Five minutes." the invigilator cries. Panic wells up inside me. I read the last question. I know this. That complicated concept I'd learned so well. I can do this.

Some Things Dreamy

Source: Shutterstock

A laptop, earphones, books, and pens. Strewn across the bed were these and a nineteen-year-old mess dozing over them. A typical day during college. My roommate is typing away frantically in her phone as if she were fixing third world problems. It's past midnight, so she decides to take a break and clean up my bed for me (what did I do to deserve her!).

Partly awake, this nineteen-year-old mess gets up to help as well. I'm only five minutes away from flopping back into a sound sleep when the phone rings. Unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Hello. Is this Dashy?"

Deep male voice. Aww man, was there some urgent club work at this hour?

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. So I was just going through your blog and wanted to tell you that I really like it."

Silence. Wait, what?

The Dark Place

The rhythmic beats of the autorickshaw cut through the noisy wind. He stood at the door watching the brown leaves litter the tiled courtyard. I sat at the settee watching his smooth silver hair fluttering in the breeze.

He was exceptionally quiet this day. His wrist-watch wore a green strap, the same one he had worn earlier to the city. Strange. He was the kind who'd change watches the way we changed clothes - one for the weddings/parties, one for the casual outings, one for home wear, one for the nights, and so on. What was stranger was how his otherwise packed schedule seemed to include ample time for mulling and staring aimlessly at the courtyard.

Diffidence

Source: Skolsida

Dear diffidence,

Why won't you let go?

You put my efforts in vain,

Pull me down to the floor,

You drive me insane

Shutting every other door.

You put to death my ideas,

My beliefs and my dreams.

You befriend my fears,

My inhibitions, my shame.

The Double Surprise

August 7, 2017
11:55 pm

Five minutes to midnight. No whispers or murmurs outside the door. My roommate is staring at her laptop screen, disregarding my presence. So they weren't gonna burst into my room with a cake? I scroll through whatsapp idly, trying to act cool although my mind is racing through all the possibilities of what may or may not happen.

The Monster

Source: webolutions.com

Rage has failed me.

Hope has left hold.

No place to run away to,

No person to be told.

You leave us but one choice

To carry fear in our minds.

To fear the daylight and the dark,

The empty streets and the crowds,

Every gaze and every footstep,

Every solitary walk.

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.

So what's your passion?

Source: Palomar

We're searching, searching. Every single nook, turning every single stone. It's not too bad, for we have company. There's like a zillion people searching with us. Every single nook, turning every single stone.

Tick tock tick tock.

A few of them have found theirs. We rejoice and pat their backs. Good for them, them lucky chaps. But it's not too bad. We’re not alone. There are plenty others still searching. High and low. Every single nook, turning every single stone.

Tick tock tick tock.                                                                                                                   

Kindred Spirits

Source: Shutterstock

"I felt that he was a kindred spirit as soon as ever I saw him."
"You're both queer enough, if that's what you mean by kindred spirits." said Marilla with a sniff.


The twelve year old put down Anne of Green Gables for an occasional brooding.


Kindred spirits. Perfect! It was simply perfect. Ahh bless the soul who coined that term. 'Best friend' sounded so low key, don't you think? You get a few good clicks together with someone and bam you're #BffsForLife. According to the statuses in social networking sites that is. Calling you my best friend simply wouldn't suffice. At all. I thought there wasn't any other choice. Until of course I read Anne of Green Gables and discovered this something that perfectly described what you were to me.


So the next day at school I rush over to you with my new found knowledge, grinning so wide you'd think I'd won the lottery. And you grinned back for absolutely no reason before I said it -

"You are Beautiful"

Source: feminismindia

"You look beautiful."

My brow is raised before the mirror.

Beautiful, did you call this error?

I see an oversized belly way out of norms

I see a brown clingy top showing off my fat arms

I see a flattened tiny face

struggling to fit in facial features.

I see a lump of gathered mess

struggling to achieve finesse.

And before this muddle of disarray

Is a beaming mom come out to say -

"You look beautiful honey."

And I smile. How funny.

A shake of head and a shrug. Moms, you see.

The Making of an Ambition

www.shutterstock.com

The seven year old pursed her lips, eyebrows creased in deep thought. An Apsara pencil was held tight in her right hand. Craning her little neck, she tried to peek into her partner's notebook but found nothing useful. So once again she returned to her train of thought, tapping the freshly sharpened pencil on her chin. Their class teacher was moving from bench to bench, planting smiles in each of their faces.

Something stirred in her mind. "Teacher!", the little one thought suddenly, "I want to become a teacher!" Tightening her grip on the pencil, she neatly filled in the space in her notebook under the column titled 'My ambition'.

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.

Tea or Coffee

Media.salon.com

“Tea or coffee?”

I turned to my sister out of habit. Any question directed at me was to be answered by her. I was the little one in the family who didn’t know the good from bad, or the better from good. But she always knew what to do.

The Vagabond

Source: Viewspaper

The engine roared to a start. The passengers were shuffling in their seats.

" I heard the roads are bumpy. " mumbled one to the other.

"Aye." came the reply, " Plenty o' curves 'n' heights. Best be prepared eh?" he said,
popping his pill. His neighbor rummaged through his bag for mufflers. The biting wind shouldn't get the better of him now should it?

From Fresher to Sophomore

Bit by bit we Hack your wit ;)

Number 311, the board read. A mess of a room sprawled with clothes aplenty. There were just so many of them! You think you’ve packed them all and the trolley bag’s zipped up and done with, only to find more of them lying about hidden under the bed, on the window grills or even in between the bundle of books. And then you would start all over again.

But then calling our room a mess would do injustice to the rooms of archi(tect) students; home to unwashed vessels of noodles and poster paints alike, and un-bathed artists sprawled on the floor with models/charts stacked on their beds (do forgive me for this reveal). While the most that our room had were piles of cloth. And lots of fallen hair.

The Race

 Source: brothersoft

Faster! Faster! the voices screamed. His lungs were ready to burst, his head throbbed as if a hammer was breaking through from within. Every inch of his body ached, yet he kept running. Faster! They bellowed still. He knew he couldn't go any faster than that. Or maybe he could, but he just didn't want to. What was the point after all? he thought. To trudge his way till the end where he'd win some badge like everybody else, a badge he didn't even want...

His train of thought was cut short by another who'd just overtaken him in the tracks. It was no more surprising to find people casually jog past him while he struggled to drag himself forward. You're not trying enough! the voices screamed into his ears again. There's still time. Work harder! He clenched his teeth as he tried to ignore his aching muscles, mustering the mettle despite the hurt. Not until yet another one had crossed him with ease did he notice that he had hardly been moving ahead. His efforts had been in vain. I can't. he spluttered, staggering to a halt.

On Being a Dreamer

Source : Things I learned from

"You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one. I hope someday you'll join us. And the world will live as one. " - John Lennon

So I'm watching another Kenny Sebastian's video when the messenger's notification tone rings. "Hey Dashy - it's been a while. What's new?" read the message from Corinne, the one blogger because of whom this blog is what it is today. It dawns on me then that I'd been neglecting Wandering Wows for almost four months now.

Of course there were the pangs of guilt that sprang up every now and then, for calling myself a writer but not writing much. But then the mind gets so creative when it comes to finding excuses. A short writing break? Call it writer's block. The break getting longer? Busy schedule! Getting longer still? Let's look for other places where I've written something and say...see? I've been working elsewhere.

The Magical Moment

Afed

It's less than two hours away from midnight. Another whole year gone. A bustle of activities around,  a heap of whatsapp texts, meeting plans and phone calls...while all I want at the moment is to be on my own. That's what it does to you, the new year eve, a tinge of melancholy in your nostalgia as a recap of the gone year plays in your mind.

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.

Surprise !

Source: istockphoto

It was Christmas eve. All houses down the lane were studded with X'mas lights in their balconies. One couldn’t see many Christmas trees around here, Christians being scarce in the vicinity. In one of these homes were a little girl who found the absence of Christmas trees and Santa Clause deeply upsetting.

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.

Being Versatile

What better way for a comeback to the blogosphere than with a blogger award post! A big thanks ( and also a bear hug) to Upasna for nominating me for the Versatile Blogger Award! With more than one and a half month of a no-show in the blogging world, I needed this to remind me that I should get back on track.

First Year Troubles #MondayMusings

Source: Lesson 695

So we're just back from classes and chilling in our hostel rooms, swiping through whatsapp messages when we suddenly hear rushing footsteps in the corridor. The next moment, our door bangs open to reveal a panting girl ready to explode. I could've sworn she was going to say "Troll in the dungeons!", but then all she said was - "They're coming!" That was enough though.

I am Grateful :)

I lay beside the window watching the night sky. The lights are out and my roommates have slept. The sky is cloudy, leaving not a single star in sight. But my mind isn't on the sky, it's still reminiscing in the day's events. There is a smile planted on my face. To that, I am grateful.

Phobia Folio #FridayReflections

- 6 6 6 -

Watch out! This is the horrific number of the Beast! Anti-Christ, they call it; hugely carnal and sinful.  The source of this number and all evil in the world is Satan himself! Let this number not make you victim to the beast! Beware!

We still stay free #PeriodPride

"What's that?" Asked the curious little one, watching her sister sneak a plastic packet into the bathroom.
"What's what?" She replied, doing a bad job in hiding the stuff.