2015, Get Lost Now.

2015 is coming to an end. I have never been a huge fan of counting down the final days of a year as I don't care about New Year's eve or celebrating it. My obligation towards the new year is limited to a mandatory blog post and that's that. But what is it about 2015 that makes me want to hold on to it dearly? What is it about 2015 that I'll remember for years? And what is it about 2015 that will always put a smile on my face? I could not list out everything, but here are a few:

1. 2015 has been largely confusing for a lot of reasons. I won't dwell over them, but I'll tell you this. No matter how bad things seem today, they'll slowly fade in time. The people you try to forget, the incidents that bring tears, and the issues that torment you--they'll all fade.

2. People constantly tell me that I am lucky to be doing a job that I love. Touchwood! Two years ago, I never imagined I'd be able to break free, stand up for my dream and take up an actual, real-time writing job. Now that I am, it feels like a million bucks. Probably, nothing feels better than doing something you are passionate about.

3. I have loved and I have lost. It might not be a great story, but it sure made me write some. It was fun while it lasted though its aftertaste was bitter.

4. Goodreads tells me that I've read 59 books this year. I've read and re-read some great books this year. I breathed into the words of Murakami, cried into the pages of Jamie Tworkowski, traveled along with Italo Calvino and Ruskin Bond, and more importantly, I have found lost courage through the beautiful world that Elizabeth Gilbert created.

I cannot thank these writers enough for their lovely creations.

5. My unhealthy obsession with letters dates back to the 90s. I have written some and received some this year.

As we talk, I've used FutureMe.org to send a letter to my future self. I think this is an immensely important activity that we must all indulge in. Go ahead, and write yourself one! I am sure your future self will be pleasantly surprised to receive a letter from past.

6. I have been turning into a reclusive person with every passing year. I am not complaining, though. I think I began enjoying my company so much that I don't feel lonely anymore. I itch for solitude.

I have cut ties with unhealthy friendships and I am glad that they are no longer in my life.

In a sad way, some relationships with my friends and family are a little strained. I am not even putting in an effort to repair them. Maybe it's time I do.

7. Not all families are perfect. No family is as nice as it seems. Some families are broken beyond repair, and some are held together by a really thin string. I am glad that I have a family and that I go home to them. This year certainly made me realize that it's hard work to keep your family together. I've learned it the hard way.

8. A few years ago, I've never imagined that I'd be buying a vehicle by 24. I have and every time I look at it in my parking area, I brim with joy.

I am learning how to drive and I am loving it.

9. I have openly discussed my emotions and issues this year. I have used several mediums for it -- my blog, one on one conversations, talking, writing, and above everything, by standing up for it.

I've said this earlier and I'll say it again. There is nothing wrong in seeking help, there is nothing small in admitting you are not okay. You are human and on odd days, your heart aches. Sometimes, longer. Be assured that there are a lot of people like you who feel what you feel. All you need to do is reach out.

10. My unhealthy eating and sleeping habits have taken a toll over me. Over the last two months, I have tried controlling them. I am hoping 2016 would prove to be a healthier year.

***

There is something about having your closest friends in town, even if you barely meet them. Two of my friends have left to the USA this year, and it hit me that I'll miss them only when I saw them walking away on our last meetings. I've never been great at goodbyes. They are hard, and I am pretty sure I'll never be okay with them. I've endured some excruciatingly painful moments yet incredibly lovely moments this year. I've made friends at my workplace and at unusual of places, and I am okay with doing that now.

In many ways, 2015 has been a year of unexpected surprises, separations, rediscovering friendships, self-discovery (almost), and of course, more writing.

To everyone who has been nice to me, gotten me cupcakes and were there for me, thank you. And to everyone who haven't done that, well, you have a happy New Year too.

P.S. The long followed tradition of falling asleep at 10:30 PM on 31st December shall be followed this year too.

What's Wrong With Life, Ya?

What began as a rather annoying morning turned into quite a retrospection.

My driver decided to bunk yet another day and I was forced to take a cab. I am not a chatty person when I am on my way to work but much to my chagrin, I ended up having a conversation with the cab driver who was a little more than what he seemed. With an MBA degree in hand, he was speaking impeccable English but chose to drive a cab as it paid him more. In fact, it paid him a lot more than what I imagined. Weird! While I was thinking his job was way more lucrative than mine, he said he envied me for doing what I really wanted to do. I brushed it aside saying the grass is always greener on the other side.

Of course I had no reason to envy him. My job is really good, and I get to write what I want, and this is exactly what I hoped for ever since I was a kid. But our minds are weird. We always want more, crave for the unattainable, and in this process, never experience the happiness of the present.

I saw a beautiful couple laughing and taking a ride on a Vespa that reminded me of sunshine and poppy seeds for some bizarre reason. My mind drifted into a train of thoughts again. When was the last time I was that happy? When was the last time I did not care about the wind in my hair? When was the last time I was on a bike? I don’t know. It must have been days. I am afraid, months.

Let’s talk about parents for instance. They think marriage is the universal solution to every problem on Earth. I mean, on one hand, while I am failing miserably at deciding what I want for breakfast, on the other hand, mother confuses you with who you should be with. Sweet life. Just so you know mom, a person who cannot choose breakfast has no right to get married and spoil someone else’s breakfast.

Is it just me or it happens with you all too? Does your heart want one thing when your brain wants an entirely different thing altogether? Are you generally torn between the matters of heart and brain, and assume, always assume that the lives of others are better than yours?

Because, this happens with me quite often.

To simply sum it up, we are 24. We are not getting any younger. Hangovers hurt. Meetings seem endless. Coffee replaces lunch. Nights seem dreadful, and mornings seem bleak.

I make myself another cup of coffee, and take a closer look at my life. What’s wrong with my life? I have a decently well paying job that makes me look forward to Mondays, friends that travel across the seas to come meet me, peers that respect me, and books that bring out the joy in me. If there’s any consolation, I love clothes and shoes, and I have closets full of them. Still, all these things are just alright, okay? I mean, you can think I am mad and all that, but I lack peace of mind. And that, I cannot buy with a Mastercard.

Sigh. Such is life.

Unfortunately, I have no conclusion for this post. I might find one soon though.

P.S. Tomorrow if I wake up and cannot put words on paper, I swear I am turning into a cab driver.

What? It pays more than just bills.

On Turning 24!

“Good friends, good books, and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life.”

― Mark Twain

It has been six days since I turned 24. Neither do I feel older nor have I turned wiser.

When I was a child, I assumed being 24 was all about having the freedom to eat chunks of chocolate cake at midnight. At 24, I totally know that it is not about eating cake.

I guess it has never really been about the cake.

On the verge of sounding almost cynical and lame, I tried figuring out what I really wanted to do in my life. Aren't birthdays just a reminder to take a solid resolution every year?

Let me tell you about my visit to a local bookstore with my mother. 

The man at the bookstore, who owns and runs the place greeted my mother with the books of her favourite writers. It was strange how he remembered the names of writers and their books at his fingertips. He spoke about Ernest Hemingway as if he saw him writing The Sun Also Rises; he talked about Stephen King as if he confided in him. He talked about Rilke and his ever famous letters like he had one of the letters. He spoke about stories and poems--stories that talked about death and poems that reminded him of his childhood. He spoke about it all with a spark in his eye while I stood there, listening to him in awe. I never imagined a person who might turn 60 in a year or two would see the world by simply sitting in the corner of a quaint bookstore. I never imagined someone would tell me so many beautiful things about the writers I loved.

On my way back home, I figured what I really wanted. 

I wanted someone to talk about my words as if they were written for them, I wanted someone to remember my sentences that flow irrationally in different directions with a glint in their eye. It does not matter even if it was just one person.

But I want that. And how do I do that?

Yes, now it all comes down to one thing - Do more. Write more.

This birthday resolution, honestly, is a part of me being selfish. I will talk more about the resolution soon.

***

This birthday has been quite eventful. I have celebrated it for three days. (I know. I allow you all to take a minute to roll your eyes.) I am overwhelmed with the amount of love and warmth I have received not just from my family and friends, but from strangers and my blog readers too. You all add beauty to my chaos.

I have received a lot of beautiful presents but one thing that has moved me immensely was a letter from my best friend. Thanks a lot for such a beautiful letter, Asisha! You have made my birthday special in many million ways.

That’s what friends do, don’t they? They make their presence and words felt even when we are engulfed with silence and isolation.

And then, there are the other friends who are equally lovely and push me towards taking control of my happiness, and urging me to be wise about choosing the right people and right things. And then, there are more friends who make me appreciate the beauty of the endless sky and sparkling stars.

Thanks a lot for making my birthday wonderful. This post might be a blend of a lot of incoherent thoughts running wild in my head. But my affection and thoughts for you are not incoherent.

As I end this post, let me tell you another thing. Turning 24 is not that bad. I imagined it would be worse when I turned 23.

Looks like it can only get better from here. Good night, everyone!

P.S. I look forward to a similar kind of love and pamper on other days too. Feel free to do so!

Share Your Life With Someone Who Is Worth Your Sundays!

“Sitting with her on Sunday evening — a wet Sunday evening — the very time of all others when if a friend is at hand the heart must be opened, and every thing told…” 

― Jane Austen, Mansfield Park

What can be more beautiful than a Sunday morning? 

As the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts through my house, I listen to my parents softly chatting about Indian politics and Literature, I know my Sunday has begun already, in the same old fashion, that has been prevalent for the past 22 years. I walk into the balcony, and enjoy the soothing music in the background. The unexpected rain makes your sunday even better. 

A Sunday is like a breath of fresh air.  You know it.

In the past 22 years, I recollect very few instances where I was rather forced to spend my Sundays without my family. To me, my sundays are strictly restricted to my family. This is a really funny unwritten law that my father passed on to me and my sister, and we love following it. Happily! I tend to spend my sundays reading, writing, watching Telugu classics, and sometimes, discussing about Indian mythology and Literature with my mother. We have been taught that a sunday is a pure indulgence. It is supposed to be spent doing things you love the most-talking to your family, dining with your family, and reading comics. I remember receiving a Tinkle or Tintin comic every sunday as a child.

Sometimes, all you need is a laid-back Sunday. You know it.

It is a rather established fact that every family spends sundays in a certain fashion. You know, some families spend their sundays watching movies, plays, and some spend with their extended family, some clean their house together, and of course, there are many more that are on the list. 

In this hectic lifestyle, a sunday is an only day where a family does all the things. Together. I mean it. Literally. It is one of the few days, where I see my sister and my parents doing a lot of things together. It is happiness and we all know it.

Now, most of us must be wondering why one should share their life with someone with whom they want to spend their sundays. Because sundays are a boon. They define you, they define the goofy things you do and a lot more. A sunday is like an ice-cream that is savoured every moment, and the person you share your life with should be the one who can be your partner in crime, on a lazy sunday. You, in every way, should be able to imagine yourself with your partner, sitting on a couch, reading a book, or watching a movie on a sunday, 5-10 years down the line. That is a sheer bliss, right?

And you know you should spend your life with that person because you are ready to sacrifice that one exotic day of your week on that person. It is so simple, right? Like the person fits in there, like an addition to your family, to your life, to your sunday. 

When you find that one person who makes your blissful sunday even better, just the way a cup of strong coffee makes a rainy day better, your life automatically turns beautiful in more than just one way.

You know it.

So, why don't you go make your sundays better?

To Grandma, With Love!

A rainy evening drifted me into the memories of my childhood. If only my grandmother was there…she would have made me a cup of steaming coffee and sit beside me, knitting and touching my hair fondly.

I vividly remember the first vision of my Grandmother. I remember a beautiful woman getting down the train and I remember running into her arms and inhaling her wonderful scent. I remember how she stood by me and influenced my life.

Every summer, my cousins and I visited Calcutta to spend vacations with our grandparents. How enthusiastic we were to meet her for she stacked up the kids’ room with lovely presents and sweets and above everything, we loved her so much. 

As time flew, we never had much time to spend with her. We hardly spent a ten odd days with her and those were the days when I saw tears in her eyes when we parted. I could never fathom why a strong woman like her had tears in her eyes! Fortunately, I got to spend six months with her when I was in high school. Those were some of the best days of my life; those were the days when she cooked delicious food for me and bought me pretty clothes; those were the days when she sat on the stair-case of the house anticipating my return from college. Six months later, when we parted again, I saw her in tears. Again. This time, I cried too.

Engineering kept me even busier and we met for only five days a year. I missed her but my college life was demanding too. My grandmother always had a habit of being the first person to wish me on my birthday and examinations. It was my fifth semester’s first examination and she promised to call me after my exam. I waited for her call and I never received it because she had a cardiac arrest. I messed my examinations. But I had nothing else in my mind. I wanted to get done with the semester, and go meet her. I waited desperately for the last exam to end.

May 1st, 2011.

Finally, my exams ended and I left for Vizag. She was so happy to see me; she took my arms in hers and cried. I saw nothing but love and fear in her eyes. She wanted to be with us, she wanted to spend more time with her children and grand-children. She just wanted more time. 

Six months later, just when everything was fine, we received a call. The call that changed everything! The call that said she was no more; the call that still makes me tremble! We started immediately and the next morning, when I saw her frail body, I felt so helpless, standing there, looking at her and sobbing. I was devastated. I fervently hoped for all the time to come back…I fervently hoped that she would come back, hug me and narrate me all the stories of her childhood…I fervently hoped that she would come back and make me chuckle loud by cracking funny jokes.

And yet again, this birthday, I waited for her call—the call that would scream a cheerful ‘Happy Birthday’ in my sleepy ears. The call that was the starter of my Birthday for the past twenty-one years!