Life as we know it

She looked away from her laptop, and wondered ‘ wait… what do I really want to do in life’?.

‘Dummy! Concentrate on your paper! Now is not the time to have philosophical discussions with yourself’, said her mind.

‘But wait… what is the point of writing this paper? I mean… I don’t know what to do in LIFE!!!!’ she shouted back.

‘well, you write this, or you can say good bye to your grades’, her mind retorted.

‘Fine’, she conceded, and went back to her paper.

‘Whew! Its 11:46! Atleast I managed to send this is in 14 minutes before the deadline’, she told herself, giving herself a tired mental pat.

‘Now, I can think about my life!’

Just then, her phone pinged with a text. It was the cute guy from her economics class. ‘Hey! Do you want to hang out tomorrow? We could go grab some coffee or something?’ he asked.

‘yay!!!!!’ She did a happy little dance, earning weird looks from the other drowsy kids in the library.

The rest of her night was spent thinking about cute guy, and her philosophical side was pushed away till the next exhausting study session. 

Forget

Forget all your troubles

Come to me my love

Tonight’s all we have

For memories, years from now

Forget about the future

The confusions and doubts of the past

Tonight, let’s dance together

Till tomorrow dawns bright

Let’s join together

Hearts, bodies, souls and minds

Now’s not the time for promises

But the time to rejoice and delight

Forget about them and their rules

Forget about the consequences which follow

Let’s forget everything, ourselves even 

And just be here, now, soul to soul

All that remains now, is you and I 

All that is here, is hearts beating alike

The fears and the overthinking can follow tomorrow

But for now, let’s just be, souls intertwined

The cost of silence

I have read and heard several passionate posts of people talking about the cost of silence. I thought I understood, but I didn’t. Not until it affected my own life. They say that personal experience is the pathway to true learning. They are right.

Keeping my silence was unpleasant. I was not comfortable. I was plagued by guilt and frustration. I did not respect myself. I was angry with myself and I felt plain uncomfortable. But I was too scared to speak up. People would not like me. I would be alone. I felt the need to adjust and compromise till I did not know where I ended and others began. I hated myself and I felt weak. Most importantly, I was easily convinced about how I should look at myself. Why? I did not allow myself to experience what I thought about myself. I defined myself by other people’s opinions and perceptions because I did not trust my own. After all, I did not even allow myself to give voice to how I felt. So then how can I rely on it? Something voice less?

I soon found myself in a nasty entanglement defined by anxiety attacks, vicious cycles of self- doubt, depression and mind games. I constantly suppressed myself and put other people’s happiness and liking above my own. I tried to blend in- not make a scene. My voice, which I had only begun to find back in Chennai was smothered and pushed into a tight box inside of myself. I started to fear everything even more until all I was - was condensed into a tight ball of anxiety – a jumpy, lumpy human mess where good intentions and sensitivity of being were fighting to rise through an ugly mesh of self-doubt and fear of rejection.

In the end, what was I left with? Acceptance and peace of mind? NO. Friends and happiness? NO. Harmony and lightness of being? Hell NO. In the end, keeping my silence costed me everything I wanted. Not only did I not get to keep my friends, I was left with a terrible taste on my tongue – the taste of self-resentment and hopelessness, and THAT, is the cost of silence.

Many of us keep our silences for a variety of reasons – it’s not worth it. Yes, speaking may cause disharmony, but it allows us to experience and share what we feel before it becomes an exaggerated, complicated mess. I have learnt that speaking up can prevent a lot of problems from even happening and ultimately, it sets you free.

So here's to speaking up and helping the world become a more genuine space!

Dear grandfather,

As a child, full of innocence,

Not knowing what to do or what to say

Tathagaru, you thought me 

That intelligence is the most important , be it night or day

You inspired me to learn, 

Encouraged my love for books

You made me feel like I'm allright

In a world which constantly critizised me for my looks

You made me want to know, 

To explore all the curiosities in the world

You made me raise my voice 

Whether in outrage, joy or surprise 

You inspired by your example

And made me want to achieve

You helped me unfold my wings

And gave me the courage to be me

You keep stealing my books 

And arguing with me 

I keep messing up your hair 

But I guess that's how it was to be

Now I'm miles away 

In a different country and culture

But I want you to know this on this day

That to me, you are always a hero

A hoarder's memories

Its when you start packing for studying overseas that you realize how hard it is to leave stuff behind. It's then that you are faced with the hard decision - the nightmare for every hoarder - what to pack? what to leave? 
As I walk around and try to put things in, I am overwhelmed with emotions - How do I leave behind these precious things - time capsules which hold so many stories and memories?

Do I leave behind the small black purse studded with tiny glass mirrors encased in orange embroidery, when it brings back to my mind the time I bought it in Mantralayam - saw it and instantly fell in love with this perfect accessory for the 13 year old girl I was then ? How do I leave it when I can still see how amused my family was when I refused to let go of it for the rest of the trip?

Do I leave behind my books which are tearing apart at the seams because of the countless hours spent reading and re-reading them? These are my friends who I laughed, cried and dreamed with, utterly lost in worlds and lives which are as real to me as my own. 

How can i even think of leaving this old perfume bottle behind? It was the first perfume my dad bought her, over 20 years ago, still full because we are yet to find a reason precious enough to use it .

A part of my cupboard is filled with dupattas - colourful shawls fraying at the edges and faded here and there. After all, these were the very dupattas my mother wore when she was my age -  A tangible connection between two 19 year olds seperated by decades of life. 

Well, what about the decorations on the walls? These colourful pieces of art are the testimony to countless hours of effort. They bring back to mind the joyful satisfaction of having created beauty in different forms.

And lets not forget the furniture. The beautiful antique book shelves and carvings passed on from generation to generation, the sturdy wood table which my father once studied for HIS exams on, the chairs that my great-grandfather used in his office and the most beautiful of them all -  my gorgeous queen sized rosewood bed, complete with 4 pillars and delicate carvings on its high head boards. This bed makes you feel like royalty and has been the site of several games including "lets build a fort" and hide and seek. You see, my mom bought this bed with her when she got married to dad and carefully decorated its many carving spaces with pictures that she lovingly collected from postcards.

Do i leave behind my life sized teddy bear Jaggu and my favourite childhood games ? Or the art supplies bought during my "artsy phase"? The many friendship bands I collected faithfully from the different people who were a part of my life at different stages? The colourful woollen ones I made ? How can I possibly even take this intense feeling of "myness" which I get the minute I step into my room or the warm feeling of home which I am submerged in the minute I step through the gates?

If I think about all the material things I am forced to leave, it will probably run into pages and pages. You see, the objects that we own are precious to us not just because of their physical value, but also because of the tales they tell and the smiles and tears they bring back. They suffuse us with a warm glow when we just spare them a thought. 

But we do need to let go of them at one point right? We need to let go so we may welcome new things into our lives. No, they will not be forgotten for the stories they hold will forever be alive within our hearts. But at some points we do have to let go.
And so we let go....
After all, You cant pack them all! :P