A Gleeful Farewell to 2016.

With the impending end of 2016, I'm so full of questions and thoughts. Sometimes, they are interfering with my inner peace, the other times, they are only providing a decent amount of fodder for squandering my time.

When I was writing a year-ender post last year, I had so much to tell that I literally cut down many paragraphs but this year, right from the time December arrived, I was fretting about what I have to write. Not because I have to write (which I have to), but also because these posts serve as reminders to all that I was in that particular year. Looking at the way 2016 panned out, it should obviously be the year that set its standards high for beating even the worst. But as a lot of people say...this is how life works. So, between being tangled and untangled, 2016 is a year where life happened to me. It was cruel. It made me vulnerable, but it also made me realize that a human being can be truly surprised what he can live with.

Every time I hit a rock bottom and overcome it, the survivor in me assumes that she is equipped for the worst. Another disaster, another victory, another bravado. But with every disaster, I fall flat and weep into the wee hours of the nights and try to hide my distressed eyes with copious amounts of eyeliner and mascara, the next morning. No matter how much and how well prepared I am for every disaster, I have my own share of fears and insecurities. However, like everyone, I also have an inner voice and in my case, it is a small girl who reminds me of the survivor that I am and urges me to show up. At any cost. And I do. And then, things get better. And then...life happens again.

I remember this time in high school when I wanted to walk into a room and own it; to make conversations with absolute strangers. I wanted to be heard, understood, and more importantly, known. Despite having such strong wishes, I was meek and often too shy to even respond to the questions I was asked. As I grew old, it changed in bits and pieces, but in time, I developed an unhealthy relationship with my own self. To tame my thoughts and incoherency while building a deep connection with myself, I decided to start a blog one night around 5 years ago. I think this worked out well for me. It made me discover my voice, inner strengths and offered me a humble platform to speak. Sure, I still do not walk into a room and own it, but hey, I am getting there. As we speak, I am in the process of checking it off my list too.

This brings me to another vital factor - reading.

I always thought I'd measure my years with the amazing books that I read, but 2016 made me go nuts for one book very particularly - Daytripper by Fábio Moon and Gabriel Bá. Despite reading 75 books this year, discovering new writers and rediscovering many old favourites, I think Daytripper is something that left its mark on me. I'm totally holding on to this like I held on to The Great Expectations.

Talking about someone in past tense is annoyingly excruciating. Even more so, if it is your mother. After losing my mother in August, I've lost my wits and a sense of security. A lot of people say that I've changed a great deal, while the others comment that I have stopped sounding like myself. I was a carefree spirit in my mother's presence, but something has definitely changed inside of me after her death. I don't know what it is, and I will not try hard to put it into words, but a part of me is entirely convinced that at any point of time, anything can happen, and we're not in control of it. It is such an unfortunate truth, isn't it? We mask it by saying it's the beauty of life. But to me, there is nothing beautiful about loss. It changes and molds you in so many patterns that you probably don't recognize yourself when you look into the mirror one day. Harsh truth - it shouldn't change you for bad. The sense of security can be lost and regained, but if you lose the core essence of yourself, it's hard to gain control over it. First-hand experience, please do take it from me!

A lot of things that happened this year made me form stronger bonds with my family. I'm so grateful for that! I make it a point to take time for them now. Earlier, my friends and family always complained that I don't return calls or stay in touch, but I have taken a new leap in that too. I'm guessing they now complain that I am always texting or calling.

Sometimes, even a little amount of unwavering faith takes you a long way. I probably didn't realize that when I started seeing this boy almost a year ago, but in time, it makes me wonder about love. I've written and talked so often about it (Thanks to my unhealthy obsession with romantic comedies and dramas) and as it turns out so much of it is false because love neither comes in fancy packaging nor with tons of confetti. It probably comes in a pretty average but sturdy packaging. Or in the form of a boy who picks your battles like they're his own. I certainly don't have a knight in the shining armour and I don't ask for one. Because what I have is a living, breathing person who shields me like an armour. Sometimes, that's all I ask for. And an unwavering faith!

As I come to an end of this post and 2016, I totally know that I contradicted what I've said in the beginning - that I had nothing to talk or write about. But when I actually sat down to write, there was no stopping. So yes, here's to a slightly depressing but a great deal of learning that 2016 endowed on me. I'm not asking for a fabulous 2017, but I surely won't mind one that comes with pleasant surprises and goodness my way.

To everyone who made this year amazing and got me cupcakes, thank you. To everyone who did not, you all can have a happy New Year too!

P.S. Thank you for reading this unavoidably long post.

Sixteen.

Sixteen and naive,

You're oblivious to the possibilities of life,

Tying your fate to the boy in the next class, you dream of a future under pine trees and starlit skies.

Sixteen and unbroken,

You're yet to experience the pleasure of pain,

Strolling on the beach and building sand castles, you imagine life is always this simple.

Sixteen and brisk,

You're galaxies away from cherishing the luxury of slowing down,

Darting from one moment to another, living without a pause sounds like a true achievement to you.

Sixteen and broke,

You still haven't met the delight of owning things you lay your eyes own,

As you walk from a bookstore to a clothing store in a huge mall, you think window shopping is a feast worthy enough.

Sixteen and wide-eyed,

You're yet to travel and unravel the beauty and the mysteries of the world,

Glancing at the images in an old magazine, you wonder if you'll ever dip your feet in one of those exotic beaches.

Young and still unexposed to the realities of life, you dream and fail.

You pick yourself up each time you fall.

You will not know that you'll be offered second chances, mercies, and countless opportunities.

You will not know how it feels to get your heartbroken and heal with no one by your side.

You will not know how scary darkness is and how strongly you fight back for light.

You will not know how gratifying it is to come home with suitcases of souvenirs and heart full of memories.

You will not know how truly amazing it is to have someone by your side, who picks your battles like they're his own.

You will not know the beauty of the things you'll create and go to sleep with a satisfaction that's self-made.

Someday, you will know all this.

You must then remember, that you were destined for this.

That at sixteen, you didn't know what was in store for you.

But you were destined.

For this, and more.

The Cookie Tin.

Throughout my childhood, we had a cookie tin at home. It was made of steel and was sturdy. My fingers still remember how its nooky edges and torn label made it stand out from the rest of the tins. My mother had a habit of putting all the best cookies in this particular tin, mostly because its lid was tight. Tight enough for me to struggle opening it. I guess I was never into Marie biscuits even at the age when I couldn't spot the visible difference between biscuits and cookies. That, however, did not stop me from reaching out to that cookie jar. Because I knew it held something that I longed for.

As I grew old and joined high school, I was still adamant about eating out of that tin. My mother soon began to store more than just best cookies in that tin, but I still believed that it consisted of the things I was forced to eat in a limit. That tin survived my many maneuvers for several years, it traveled with us every time we moved from one city to another and boy, we did move a lot! It became an integral part of our kitchen and I was warned to steer clear of it.

I don't certainly remember when we lost that tin, but I haven't noticed it for years now. Especially this morning when I was storing cookies in a different tin that bore no resemblance to the lost one. I am beginning to think if life is a lot like this. No, I am serious. Did it ever happen to you? You hold on to something - a plan, a work item, a piece of clothing, a book or what the hell, the idea of doing something amazing in your mind and try your best to gain control over it. Over time, it either comes easily to you after a lot of struggle from your end or becomes a part of your existence that you lose track of it. Did it ever happen to you? That in time, you lose the purpose of the thing (or the idea) you once strongly believed in? It is kind of annoying if you actually perceive it in that fashion. Nevertheless, it does not alter the truth. We lose the purpose of myriad important things in our life. Our dreams, our ambitions, our desperate plans to achieve meaning of life - we lose it all.

Sure, the tin might be replaced with another tin that has no stains or uneven edges, but not everything can turn obsolete.

And it shouldn't. Because life does not offer another cookie tin when we lose sight of a purpose or ambition.

Mistakes.

I have been told that to be a great writer, I must abandon fear. I must forfeit second thoughts and embrace rejection and pain at every step of my life. And that I must put my heart where my mouth is. I have been constantly told that I must place myself in the most unusual situations and gain experiences. It might not have made me a great writer, but it, at least, made me write different things.

I have been told that to be a successful professional, I must network with the right people. I must not be mad about making tons and tons of friends at my workplace. I have been told that all the magic happens right out of my comfort zone, and often, I get pushed to strut out it. I might not have a cushy corner office like Harvey Specter, but I am known for the work I do.

But no one told me how to be a pro at maintaining personal relationships. You know what I mean? Each day, as I navigate my way through the relationships I've so far made with my friends, family, confidants, or just acquaintances, I know they aren't quite thrilling in all aspects. To be honest, I screw them on and off. I've always imagined that relationships are effortless. And that they must be as simple as the pleasant breeze. No, not like the gust of wind. Never. Every night when I am alone with myself, I think of all the mistakes I've made, and as I slowly tuck them into my bed, beside me, looking into their eyes, I ask myself what made me do this. Or that. Or the exact half-baked things I've said to people. I've always imagined that mistakes come from a deeply insecure place. From a place where the brain and heart are in a conflict. But they don't. Mistakes just happen. As we keep taking chances in life and meet different people, mistakes just happen. I mean, my life isn't an isolated case, right? We all make big, fat mistakes. Mistakes that we cannot take back, mistakes that we regret, mistakes that give us sleepless nights, mistakes that sucker punch us in our hearts. However, what are we without our mistakes?

We are social animals. Sure, we receive a cartload of professional advice but no one teaches us how to deal with personal life only because it's not algebra. You learn only when you make mistakes. Only when you choose courage over comfort. You learn that maintaining relationships is not effortless and will never be. You got to wake up every morning, pick them and work hard to make them stay strong.

And tonight, when you are tucking your mistakes into the bed beside you, don't forget to tell them a hi. Don't you forget to thank them for making you strong! Don't you forget to express your gratitude that you're no longer a dick only because of them. For they have been teaching you all that you haven't learned in school or college.

The Right Kind of Wrong.

During all my writing classes, the most recurrent thing I have been told by my professor is that I do not put myself out there. That I constantly fail to write about the things that truly trouble me or touch me. I have been told that I come across as a person who is scared to show the insecurities and vulnerabilities. Sometimes, I argue that I write about my fears and insanities on my blog, but he just says that it is barely anything.

I do not want this to sound as a rant because I am willing to meet him mid-way to agree that he is almost true. Or absolutely true! The other day, while talking to a friend, he told me that I am introverted in certain situations aka selectively introverted. And trust me, I do not want to be that. But being an extrovert hasn't been my forte too.

I would like to make a reference to the countless times when I am told that writers gain experiences, they take risks, they meet new people, observe them. I observe people too, I notice their quirks but I am definitely not the one who is famous for taking risks, striking a conversation, or be the first person to initiate almost anything. As much as silly I might sound, I am always worried that I would make a plain fool out of myself if I'd do something that I'd generally refrain from doing. To confirm my worst fears, I stumble upon several articles or testaments on how spectacular or eventful Hemingway's or Scott Fitzgerald's lives were. Well, yes, they all kicked ass! All the great people have and I am not kicking ass, clearly. I'm just running from one time zone to the other by wallowing in moments of nothingness, and pretty much doing nothing to live the wildest of my dreams. If you're wondering if I am gaining any experiences, I must admit that I am. We all do, don't we? Some of us decide to put them on paper. Some do not. Experiences are not limited to writers or musicians only. And they are certainly not limited to people who claim to have creative pursuits only. Every person is creative.

Here's my theory, though. My experiences are quite juvenile at this point of time, I agree, but I do not want to rush into making a cart load of them right now. 'Right now' should stop for me. I want to breeze into my life slowly and experience things with no plans whatsoever. I am exhausted with things happening so rapidly all the time that I want to go anti-Supersonic now. However, let me get back to square one now. My professor was absolutely right, I need to put myself out there more often and try to have meaningful conversations with people. It is time I look at things with a different perception and not be scared about writing things that could be slightly troubling. Let's hope I'll do things differently this year and gain experiences on my way.

I am certain I should be doing the right kind of wrong.

P.S. To my family that reads most of the things I write, you guys have nothing to worry about. I am not talking about doing stupid stuff.

Me and My Odd Plans.

I have always had a habit of deriving inspiration and life lessons from cartoons or things around me. As I grew up, that habit evolved from cartoons to TV series. Even if it is a show like Gossip Girl, I try to learn something from it. Sure experience is the greatest teacher of all times, but sometimes you cannot rely on experiences alone. You need more. Especially for a person like me who is easily distracted even at the slightest changes in life, I need things that remind me of my goals constantly. Yes, constantly, like at least five times a day.

Here's what happened this morning. I learned something from my new car today. Oh, by the way, if my happiness hasn't made it evident enough, I bought a new car and I must confess it is the love of my life. Anyway, I have always believed that changes in your life do not come announced. They come unannounced and they make their presence felt. What I did not realize while getting the car was that I would turn responsible. It does not matter even it is something as mundane as cleaning it, something as tiny as ensuring it is well maintained, which would ensure longevity. My mother has been persistently reminding me on how well I am taking care of it, but that I should not stop doing it. Just the way we stop caring about our goals mid-way. And just the way we take care of the things we own, we have the responsibility to take care of our dreams and our ideas. We cannot let them go astray or let the dust settle on them. Nope, not happening!

After this realization dawned on me, I fished out my notebook and wrote down a few mini goals (because I need to reach my mini-goals to reach the bigger ones) and assigned some timelines to them. The two out of the many goals with the closest timelines are:

1. To be able to drive, if not like a pro, like a rookie by February.

2. To be able to write the set of short stories I have been meaning to write by January mid-week.

This time, I am not fussing over finishing things. But on learning something.

Writing Our Stories.

In my last post, I've said that I've read two amazing books last week and that I would write about them.

I’ve read Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert and If You Feel Too Much by Jamie Tworkowski. The overly sensitive person that I am, I ended up shedding a tear or two while reading both the books. The books were so truthful that I could not help talking about them all the week. Every person I met and everywhere I went, I talked about these books.

I love Elizabeth Gilbert. Call it serendipity or my idea to feel better, I have always read her when I was hitting rock bottom. I remember reading Eat, Pray, Love when I was in college, but it was just a good book. A book that I liked and that was all about it. But the first time I ever had a major breakdown, I picked Eat, Pray, Love again. This time it wasn't just a good book, it was a voice that was talking to me, reminding me that there is hope. I read it once. Twice. I felt better. I watched her TED talks and I read more though I still haven't finished reading The Signature of All Things. When I got to know about Big Magic, I knew I had to read it. Funnily, I read it when I was going through another breakdown, and this time, it was liberating. I read it on my way to work, and I read it before I fell asleep. I read it during breaks, and I read it at every opportunity I could find. I understood it. Loved it. Talked about it. And secretly, I found my lost courage from it.

You know there are instances when you find mentors just around you. And sometimes you don't. Sometimes they are in your city. Sometimes you meet them every day. In my case, it is different. In spite of the miles of distance between Hyderabad and New Jersey, Elizabeth is my mentor, though she is absolutely unaware of existence.

Thank you for writing this book, Elizabeth! I needed it. Just the way I needed Eat, Pray, Love. I've learned so much from it and I know there is so much more to learn. I will live my life with stubborn gladness and it is a promise I've made to myself this year.

---

Jamie Tworkowski's If You Feel Too Much has made me realize that there are people like me. That there are people who waltz their way through pain and emerge stronger. That there are people who never give up despite what happens to them. That people struggle and fight.

I have been following 'To Write Love on Her Arms' for a quite bit of time now and I honestly believe that what Jamie has been doing for people is wonderful. When someone told me that Jamie wrote a book and that I must read it, I was a little apprehensive. I thought I did not need a book that would make me sad. Funnily again, this book was anything but sad. It has beautiful stories and every story teaches you something.

Jamie has always been a strong advocate of urging people to not to give up on their story. And this is amazing because we are all carrying so many stories inside us but we either give up or never talk about them. It is time we do. It is time we write our own stories. Live our own stories.

P.S. Elizabeth Gilbert, you rock my world.

2014 So Far!

“You raze the old to raise the new.” 

― Justina Chen, North of Beautiful

2014 has been quite unpredictable, and on many occasions, it was disappointing and excruciating too. No matter what I say, it has been a great learning experience, but I wish to go on a holiday from the grand learning experience.

I am not sure if I have anything much to say, but I just do not want to break the ritual of writing the end of the year post.

1) As you all know, I was a corporate slave, doing things I hated and absolutely did not care for. When my manager said I was not good enough, I am glad I paid attention to it. I moved on to a job I cared in the pursuit of creating something beautiful instead of trying to get myself into another corporate rut.

2) It does not come as a surprise to me when I say there are very few friends with whom you can pick where you left. I am glad I have them, and I would not go overboard to say I love them, but I am almost there.

These people have stood by my side all the time. Though they were royally absent in my happiness, they never gave up on me in my distress.

3) The best way to know if you can trust someone is by trusting them. If you are willing to put your trust in them, I am sure they are worth the effort. 

4) If not for reading and writing, I would not even be half the person I am.

The sorcery of words, beauty of letting you dive into a whole new world, introducing people of different ideologies and tastes are amazing.

Perhaps the beauty of emotions is always spoiled when I try to talk about them. But when I write them, they sound surreal. But real!

5) I've lost and let go off too many people this year. You can take my word for it-I have made peace with myself by forgiving them.

But it does not mean the broken things can be repaired. Not yet.

6) There is this one person who has the ability to bring out the best and the worst in me, bringing out the child in me, making me do things I probably never imagined, saying things I would not even dare to say in the wildest of my dreams.

This person is not the sunshine to my life. Oh no, definitely not! But it sure feels like sunshine when this person is around me.

And even when I claim not to throw tantrums with this person, I always do. I know it, but I argue otherwise.

7) There is really no antidote to pain and loss.

But red velvet cupcakes and tiramisu take care of the pain. Temporarily!

8) When you really like someone, it does not even matter what you are going through or willing to go through for them.

9) Solitude and silence are beautiful beyond imagination. Living all by myself on the days my parents are away, cooking for myself, cleaning my space, and reading, ah! Needless to say, the best things always come in tiny packages.

10) Over the last 6 months, I set a record of wearing just black. Mostly! My mother is wondering if I am wearing the same outfit every day, and my colleague keeps asking me if I'd ever get bored of it.

I think I should buy some colours the next year. My mourning outfits need to go on a break.

11) I have turned into a bigger caffeine addict. I am trying to cut down but I think I would fail. Miserably! 

12) I have made some real time investments this year. I am a little proud of myself.

13) I sold my first story. More details soon.

14) I have lost the interest in making conversations, and I am hoping it would turn into a lost art. 

15) While writing, you always need a good editor. An editor who can edit your work relentlessly, calling it a piece of trash, and sit for long hours with you, trying to beat sense in your slightly delusional mind, by correcting your grammar and replacing mundane words with graceful ones. You need this editor to read out Abbe Prevost or Proust to you. 

Phew! I had a tough time listing out these things, and most of them do not make any sense. But this year has just been tumultuous, you know?

As I close my eyes, I can now remember the good things--reuniting with lost friends, rekindling forgotten emotions, meeting your teacher and the first editor who inspired you to do something beautiful, late night conversations, sleepovers, writing my first Haiku poem, meeting fabulous people, discovering great musicians, painters and writers, looking at this person eating ice-cream like a child, embracing friendships that are beyond geographical restrictions, writing more than ever, turning into a braver person, earning the ability of expressing what I like and what I do not, not putting up with people who harm me, and pushing myself to work for the things that matter.

I have always loved myself above everything, and I will always. That is a promise!

To everyone who has been a part of my life and this post this year, thank you. For contributing bits and pieces of your life into mine! You add stars to my memories.

Here's to growing older, flying time, wasted nights, haunting dark circles, beautiful memories, smiles and laughter, broken promises, words and conversations, love and a lot like it. Happy 2015!

And now 2015, can you just grow my bangs already? I feel like a goof with this haircut.

Journey from Corporate Slavery To Creative Culture

“That's the great secret of creativity. You treat ideas like cats: you make them follow you.” 
― Ray Bradbury, Zen in the Art of Writing

Hello!

It has been two weeks since I joined my new job as a writer and I am safely assuming that it is a good amount of period to write down some of my thoughts.

So far, so good.

In some of my previous posts, I have unabashedly mentioned that I have gotten the much coveted freedom from the corporate slavery - a job that I pretty much did because I had no choice. And I sucked at it. 

Sure, it did pay some of my utterly useless bills (Things without which I could have definitely survived. Say The Body Shop and Lush?) but waking up to go to work every morning seemed like an incorrigible task. The best part about that job was going home. Because writing and reading happened in the evenings.

Last night, I had an inane urge to write something but I was too tired to sit in front of my laptop, or notebook, or you know, my newly aquired typewriter. I am sure I forgot that writing is a full time occupation now. So, here am I, writing down some random thoughts while listening to Clint Mansell.

1. Being busy is something very new to me. It keeps my mind away from some horrid thoughts. I do not overthink or smother my life with many complications.

2. While a corporate company has hundreds of people doing the same thing that you do, a creative culture job has very few people who do what you do. And it is a rare thing, you know? Too many different people at a same place. 

3. My new job definitely does not give me a lot of time to fool around. But my knowledge process and learning starts at ground zero. It is a good thing, you know? I get to learn so many new things and see such different people or write in various styles. 

4. These Hyderabad auto drivers are such a pain, I tell you. They want 300 to go everywhere. Hein? Even when the destination is generally around the corner, they want to be paid (Read loot) royally. 

Their excuse: Traffic.

But you know what? Sometimes, you board an auto with a driver who might divulge some details about our city and its politicians. Hear them out, they tell you the real time news.

5. The locality in which my office is located has too many adorable dogs.

And Di Bella coffee shop. Hee hee! (How I love that place and their waffles.)

6. The Monday morning blues have vanished into thin air.

7. While a creative culture has a lot of pros, it has its cons too. You cannot want to write all the time. But you got to. 

You are getting paid for writing, you fool.

8. Above everything, you will have that love-hate relationship with your first job. Just like that ex boyfriend of yours.

It is good as long as it lasts. But when it is over, it is done and dusted. It is time to move on to bigger and better things that shall bring happiness and creativity back into your lives.

And believe me, anything that kills your happiness and creativity does not really last longer even if it shines brighter than a diamond today.

9. Who said writers get paid nuts and that writing for writers is an easy job?

Bring that fellow to me. I will slipper him.

Finally, I am done explaining what I have felt in the past fourteen days.

You know someone truly said it right. When you do a job that you love, it cannot be called a job. It is fun.

On that note, I am off to read a book. Adios!

So Did I Learn Anything?

Okhay! So I am going to be 21 in another ten days and honestly, I do not feel like that yet. I mean, I am going to be 21 and I feel like a seventeen year old person who is not serious about anything. When people say to me that I need to get serious, I have this typical deja vu feeling that keeps knocking my head periodically. 

"Hey you are going to be 21 in few days. You need to stop wearing those pink and red shoes."

Oh really? Just because I will be 21, should I dress up like Miss Havisham? Oh please, you cannot expect me to grow up overnight, okay? Besides, I will be shoe-less if I throw them away. Clueless, too! :-/

So, now the question is did I learn anything in the past twenty years?

*Scratches the head and mutters gibberish*

Oh yes! I have. I guess, I have a list. I know, I know, I make a list for every damned thing. :D

And here I go, things I have learnt:

1) Make mistakes and learn from your mistakes. A very cliched statement, right? 

Learn from your mistakes and do not flaunt your stupidity again. Well, I have learned this one for sure. :-D

2) Do not let wolves eat away your life. Your life, your rules. I have had just one wolf in my life and I am glad that that ugly (not just by heart and mind but by face too) creature does not exist in my life anymore. Good Riddance!

3) Do what you love and love what you do. Yet another cliched statement from ME! And before you come to a conclusion that I am giving out all statements from Google, I would like to say that we need to abide by this rule all the time.

4) You learn a lot from traveling too. Especially, when you travel all alone. 

Traveling, pictures, memories. Hell yeah, the best thing to do.

5) It is easy to get addicted to bad habits and having bad people around you is even more addictive. Chuck them out!

6) Been there, done that. It is a terrible
thing to grow up and act like an adult. Life is simple when you do not grow up. Being childish has it own pros and cons too but it is better that way. ;-)

And now, what I have really learned in these few (Actually, a lot) years and the past few days are:

• Learning Italian. Oh hell yes, I am. A beautiful language!
• Improving my writing abilities, getting better at clicking pictures, collecting vintage and rare stamps.
• Being a workaholic can attract expletives from your friends. ;-)
• Do not brood over things a lot. 
• Having fun- I have degrees and diplomas in this. Having fun in all weird, cranked up ways is the best thing I have learnt.

And now that I have written this total gibberish, I will get back to my 'stacking up of stamps' activity.