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.

And, It Was A Happy Birthday!

“The cake had a trick candle that wouldn't go out, so I didn't get my wish. Which was just that it would always be like this, that my life could be a party just for me.” 

― Janet Fitch

I turned 23 this Wednesday and I had one of the best birthdays ever. 

But let me warn you, it is not an extremely great feeling, you know? Just a while ago, I was a teenager listening to heavy rock music, and I blink my eyes and whoa, I am 23 now. Just for the record, I do not enjoy heavy rock music any longer.

It is a little scary to know that you are growing older and all that. I know some of you won't agree with me, some will, and those big 3 0s would literally roll their eyes at me and say, look at us and talk, kid. But yes, whatever. I am growing old.

While I am enjoying the afterglow of my birthday and stuffing myself with more cake, I wonder if there is any difference in me when I turned 22 and now. I wonder if I have done something worthwhile in the past one year. I wonder if I learned something - useful or not. Have I gained any experiences?

The answer to all - yes, I have. And I know for a fact that I will keep getting better. Also, I am sure I will get even better by the time I turn 24. 

As I look into the past one year, I think of all the things I have done. I met new people, I made new friends. I have visited a lot of new places, watched good movies, read some wonderful books, ate a lot of delicious food, got rid of some toxic people and reunited with some good old friends, experienced euphoria, bitter sadness, experienced vulnerability and strength, I have written a lot of things, and earned the much coveted freedom from corporate slavery. Touchwood!

I made memories. 

And, I know for a reason that with every passing birthday, we will always have a handful of things that we have done and will remain with you. I am glad I too have them.

Thanks to everyone who were a part of my life, and are a part of my life. You all have given me many stories and I will keep building many more.

Thank you Anirudh, Asisha, Sugumar, Supadha, Haritha, Harish, Kiriti, Amrutha, Anwesha, Suguna! You guys have seen the worst in me and let us just hope you won't see anything more horrible. The worst case scenario factor has reached a saturation point, right? And let me not forget, you guys are all part of the big, major memories I have made. 

Here's to growing old, feeling utterly weird about your age and all that, getting busier with your lives, partners, losing touch with the moronic side of the youth and oh, the carelessness. This too shall pass!

IT WAS ONE HELL OF A BIRTHDAY, PEOPLE!

Should You Sell Your Dreams For A Lucrative Corporate Job?

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” 

― H. Jackson Brown Jr., P.S. I Love You

You remember how as a child you would dream, dream to do wonderful things, and as you grow up, you cling on to these dreams, hoping one day you will achieve all those innocent dreams you have had as a child.

Sadly, reality comes into the picture when you turn into an adult. The dreams you've had as a child eventually fade and sometimes, you give in to the pressure that is thrusted upon you by your parents, family, extended family, and oh, how can I forget, the neighbours. 

You have mortgages to take care of, bills to pay, and you know, the dream of turning into something awesome takes a back seat. You are confused! Questions like "Painter? What will you earn? Ten cents? Not everyone can become a Pablo Picasso, you know", "Why can't you become an Engineer? Software industry has a better prospect", "Musician? You should get an MBA degree from an Ivy League." become a part of your life. And as much as you want to chide the people who confuse you with questions like this, you cannot help but agree that they are realistic too. Aren't they?

Should you sell your dreams for a lucrative corporate job? is a million dollar question that we twenty somethings face almost everyday. 

Dear parents, we are clueless too. We want to chase our dreams. We want to be a Jane Austen, a Pablo Picasso, a Bruce Springsteen. We want you to understand that we want to stand out and as much as absurd it sounds to you, we do not need riches. Practically, we all need money. Yes, we all do. But we are struggling here, trying to voice our opinions, and yes, we know the repercussions of not taking up a software job. What can we do? Our childhood dreams haunt us. They do not let us sleep in the night. They remind us of what we are and what we can become.

Oh, we totally understand that neighbour aunt's elder son is an investment banker and has a swanky car in his garage. We admit it, we cannot afford it. Not for the next ten years at least. But we are alright with it. 

So the next time you ask us how we would manage our rent, we want to ask you few questions too. When will we find time to travel and gain beautiful experiences? When will we meet intriguing people like us? When, just when can we do major goof-ups and blame our juvenile phase for it? When will we fail majorly and learn all the lessons? When will we fall in love and experience a heartbreak? When will we experience anything, just anything that is remotely different from what we are doing?

Not all of us here are meant to work under corporate honchos, and turn cynical by the time we turn 30. Not all of us here want an Audi. Not all of us here want an insanely ludicrous bank balance. We are happy to live our dreams. We are happy spending our life creating something beautiful. We are infectiously glad doing what we are meant to do. If we spend an eternity living your dreams, when should we live ours? 

We want to take a leap of faith, and is it too much to ask you to believe in our dreams? Because we are wired differently, and we believe in the beauty of our dreams.