Were you always this way?

You meet a person in a given situation and you see an aspect of them under those peculiar circumstances. It is then so easy to decide that this person is just what they appear to be to you, just exactly that... no more, no less.  They may appear kind and loving or calm and balanced or bitterly sarcastic or mind-numbingly boring or brilliant or modest or so on and so forth... ad infinitum. But you choose a set of characteristics and you apply them to said individual and that is it! But you forget, that these same people may be seen differently by others. They may actually be different with others. You may be missing out on the inner turmoil of a silent, apparently calm person. You may be missing out on someone's creativity just because your experience of them has been of the mundane. Or perhaps, you never expected them to be creative. So you never ventured to explore those aspects. You may never touch upon the seething resentment within the soul of a person who appears carefree. Or the deep-rooted romantic within a person who is apparently always strong and unemotional.

And worst of all, you pass your judgement. And then you rest the case. You don't stop to take a second look, or even a third one. You miss out on so much! Someone you think you know really well may actually appear a stranger to you if you ever saw them through another person's eyes. Or even through your own eyes, but without the curtain of expectations and preconceived notions. Don't you find that, oftentimes, perceptions are coloured by expectations? Do you think that sometimes you tend to judge too quickly? As if it makes life simpler to categorize people into sub-sections in your mind? And then, don't you lose out on the rich diversity that even that one person has to offer you? It is not easy to keep an open mind, to be non-judgemental. It means that you have to let go of your sense of self-importance. You have to step down from the pedestal that you placed yourself on. The one from where you gave yourself the right to pass judgement about others. To say that someone is mean, to say that another is an idiot, or someone else is selfish. Yes, everybody is flawed. And unluckily, perhaps, you have been exposed to all their unique flaws. But surely, each one of us is more than just the sum of our flaws? There is some good in every person. And sometimes, do you stop to think whether you bring out the worst in another person? Perhaps, they think the same about you? Perhaps... perhaps... perhaps.

If you just take the risk and decide to look at one other person in your life from a different perspective, you may discover a hidden poet or an angst-ridden soul or a hilariously wicked sense of humour that sends you into absolute fits of laughter. It takes a bit of trust. And some self-deprecation. Some letting go and some letting in. But its do-able. And then, even if you have just one friend, that friend may suddenly seem to be a different person. All the comfort of the known but flavoured with the excitement of the new. If only we were so brave...

Are these really my thoughts?

Have you ever stopped to think, how many of your thoughts are really your own? Okay, let's modify that question, make it a little simpler. How many of your opinions are really your own? And I mean all kinds of opinions. About stuff that seems inconsequential, everyday, mundane. About all the profound stuff that you discuss as a passionate, to-be-revolutionary youngster. All those philosophical discussions and movie/music/random gossip. Just about any and every thing.

I lived my life believing in my individuality. Doesn't every one of us believe at some point or other in our uniqueness? Have you not had that moment when you thought you were special? That you had thought of something, the germ of an idea, that was especially yours? Those times of divine unawareness about one's place in the scheme of things. Or rather a skewed image of one's exalted status. Delusional, yes. But definitely confidence-inspiring. Those were times when I could have had (and often did have) an opinion on any and every single thing. And off course, it was a well-informed, well-read, rational person's unbiased opinion. Did I mention delusional?

And then the day dawned when I realized that so many of the things I heard myself say were things that my parents had said, or my teachers had said, or my friends had said or... I would have said that it was an earthshaking moment. But that would be putting it mildly. It is awful to find that your very definition of yourself (and yes, your thoughts do define you) is shaky, murky, lost in the voices and opinions of others. It is shocking, that realization. But essential too. Especially if you mean to grow up some day. And well, not a lot of us have a choice about the growing up. Life tends to make you do so anyway.

Anyway, since that day on, I have learnt to question. It makes me a non-believer, until I have believable proof. It makes me long to have faith, yes, blind faith. But it also leaves me knowing that most of my thoughts are really my own. Sometimes, another's opinions slips through. But then, it is all about living and learning. You see, so much of our childhood passes in trying to be like someone else that many of us never learn to be ourselves. I have decided to learn to be myself. The best myself I can be :)

A matter of trust

Returning from an errand, I met a rickshaw-wallah the other day, who set me thinking. Upon being told my destination, he was full of questions. About my place of study, where I come from, whether the courses are difficult, the accommodation, the campus, the admission process, the composition of the student community and so on. I was a little reluctant to answer his questions and evaded them in what I thought was a skillful manner. You don't go around divulging personal details to absolute strangers, do you?
Having managed to try and give monosyllabic answers for most of his questions, I was almost patting myself on the back when he turned around and apologized for his inquisitiveness.
"Madam, my son an engineer. He study here, but now job in Pune. Good job. Very proud. Hard work, you know. I want him to study more. So asking you. Sorry, madam if you don't like it."

I was ready to dig a hole through the floor of his rickshaw and allow the earth to swallow me up, metaphorically speaking. What kind of person had I turned into if I had allowed my essential niceness to be swallowed up in the safety drill!?!

Why is it that we are taught to not trust strangers? We are born with the ability to look at the world like it is full of the most innocent and beautiful people. It is as we grow up that the prejudices set in, become ingrained in to our psyche and we turn into suspicious, small-minded adults! I hate the fact that the minute I see a stranger staring or a slightly different/weird looking individual walking by me in a slightly lonely locality, the thought immediately crosses my mind that this person might mean some harm and I should be ready to face anything. I should be careful, mindful of my own safety and so on.

And then the guilt crashes in. That such thoughts come visiting. Perhaps they are important in today's world. But that human beings have lost such faith in others of their own kind is disturbing. It is not fair to the other person or people. I would hate it if anybody thought such awful stuff about me for no particular reason. I would hate it even more if perfectly innocent people who just happened to be around, minding their own business, or perhaps even wondering if I am a safe person while passing me by, could look into my head and read my thoughts.

It is sometimes difficult to follow all the rules of this world. At least in the present day and age...
What are we always told about strangers right from the time we are kids? DON'T talk to strangers. Strangers can be bad, can be cruel, can mean trouble. Stay away from them. Very important life lesson indeed. Especially when one considers the statistics about crimes where children and women more especially, and even men in many cases, are the victims. Strangers can indeed be dangerous, at times.

But when is the "no strangers" rule supposed to be eased a little bit? At what age is one supposed to be grown up and able enough to judge people, especially strangers? Because every new person is a stranger and many might turn out to be people you could treasure, awesome people. And doubting them to begin with does not make for a happy time ahead, in fact, might mean driving away the very people who might be meant to travel the roads with you...

Somehow we need to strike the perfect balance between staying safe and away from harm even while being good human beings, who trust and judge correctly. That, I believe, is the essence of all that growing up, maturity and wisdom. Perhaps life and experience teaches you this, it is not something you can learn in a class or from a  book about morals and values. This might be why our parents and grandparents seem so much wiser. They have seen, lived and learnt, a process that takes patience and time. But having to live in a fast-forwarded world today, where we have so little time to invest in wisdom, we forget to learn. Perhaps every now and then, I ought to stop and think for myself if I am the kind of person I like. Then I might yet end up the kind of person I could like if I ever met myself as a stranger...

Untitled...

It has been a really long time since I last posted anything and this, I think, is a reflection of the fact that this has been a phase of a lot of confusion, debate and self-doubt. Sometimes I almost wish that my mind would go blank, even for the teeniest little while. That would perhaps be so much more peaceful than the multitude of ideas, doubts, questions and halfway-there answers. It is not as if I have stumbled across some great question. Just these small niggling doubts. They flit by, stay awhile and then fly away before I manage to personally rid myself of them. This has been happening for quite some time now, but never such that it made me stop so long and think seriously. 

I think it all culminated when someone told me in a matter-of-fact manner that the only reason I write is apparently so that people may read and admire and talk about it. And that flummoxed me since I had always told myself that I write for my satisfaction, for the creative purpose, even as a personal need for expression... that it does not matter what others think about my writing and so on. The straightforward response from a friend whose opinion I value made me examine whether I had been entirely honest with myself. And when I realised that there is surely a part of me that flourishes on the admiration, the comments and the very idea that there are people out there that read my stuff... I decided that this cannot continue. You see, it has always been ingrained upon us that selfishness is bad. Self-love or an obvious and openly accepted desire to be liked is frowned upon. And so I decided that I shall not put my thoughts out there in the world, I shall keep them to myself, hoard them and not ask everybody out there for their opinions on the same. I stopped posting here. It was almost a case of self-imposed hibernation. 

But you know what, the kind of behaviour where you put your thoughts out and eagerly look for responses (hopefully positive) may be classified as self-publicity and attention-seeking behaviour and hence bad in the world's eyes but the stifling of my expressive abilities is not good for me. It makes me cranky, it makes me difficult and makes me brood. I need to write and not just in private but such that people can read it and tell me what they think about it. This is not just a wish, it is a deep desire, almost a necessity for me if only so that, in my everyday life, I can be happier. It took me a while to accept that yes, I do crave the attention, the admiration. And to hell with all those who think it is bad, it is wrong. I donot think that it makes me any less of a person just because I choose to not be self-effacing. If I enjoy writing, then write I shall! And I shall also thrive on the readers' comments and their inputs. What is wrong with liking yourself and wanting to hear the world tell you that you are worth some little bit, atleast as much as a tiny little patch in the colourful fabric of the world? 

I do not have to ever fit into the rules of behaviour that someone else sets for me unless I personally believe them and they come to me naturally. Coz what may be wrong according to someone else may be exactly what I need in my life, what I have been missing. I think I need to just come to terms with the person I am, good or bad, and then go on ahead from there. Why should I fit into a mould cast by someone else? Life on the fine thin line is just great for me. I donot have to lead my life as a model of propriety and I definitely do not wish to be remembered as a "good girl". I want to live a full life with all kinds of experiences (the wilder the better :D) and I want the freedom to make my own mistakes. I want to also be confident enough that an unknowingly passed derogatory comment about me does not bring my world crashing down. Only when I am absolutely sure of my self-worth will I be worthy enough to face up to the world. Ah! Clarity! And some peace of mind finally. See, there I go, I suddenly feel so much better having gotten all that stuff out of my system. It is a nice world out there :) :)

A rambling post...

Being at this particularly weird age, young yet not completely carefree...independent yet held by many invisible strings, is confusing indeed. I am to be responsible and grown up yet not a stuffy individual. How do I balance all this out? I live on my own, yet I donot have the freedom (or perhaps the desire) to be an isolated island. But I shall never ever be the bubbling life and soul of a group. It requires just too much effort and my inherent laziness revolts at the idea of such hardship. Does it always have to be extremes...this or that...always a matter of choices? Also I have been wondering whether I have really changed over a period of time, over a series of experiences or do I just like to pretend so?

Living on a campus as beautiful as this is an experience that I shall cherish forever, with the many blossoming friendships and the chance for personal growth. It is entirely up to me how closely inter-twined I wish to let these bonds become...keep everyone at arm's length or let them into my heart. Perhaps it is the many hours spent in company and the unending conversations that build up this impression of closeness...it is perhaps all a mirage. Everybody is finally looking out for themselves...no one cares when it comes to the crunch. Each person is trying to reach for their best under the given circumstances. That is not to say that anybody is out to hurt you specifically but someone else's best may be the worst for you.

Is that too pessimistic...cynical? I would like to think it is a journey towards realism. Perhaps that's all growing up means...that you dream but know that dreams hardly ever come true and that magic shall only be for yourself...for your imagination...it does not exist in the real world. Out here all anybody cares for is the end result...have you succeeded or failed? The journey never matters.

I have been told over and over again for quite some time now that I am too trusting, too impressionable, too optimistic and lost in my own world, my dreams, my beliefs and I would just laugh it off and think that people were not ready to look at all the beautiful things out there. But do any of these apparently magical, beautiful things matter? Are they even worth noticing? All these years I have been a naive young fool to believe that it is the process, the people you meet along the way, the million different hues you chance upon, the actual journey that matters the most. But then there are times when you wholeheartedly doubt all that you have trusted your entire life. Disillusionment is good, because it lets you pause and think. Take a break, learn many things all over again just with a different perspective.

I guess all these thoughts, doubts, beliefs, questions and answers are always there fluttering within me. Sometimes a few rush to the fore, sometimes others do but do I ever get anything new from the world or am I constantly regurgitating the same old questions and just trying to come up with different combinations of answers? What is one supposed to do when melancholy strikes with such vengeance for no apparent reason? Even the crashing rains and the thunder and lightening outside cannot wash this mood out. It has become a constant companion lately, sucking the joy out of the little everyday happenings that I used to go ga-ga over. Do I even want to let go? It is a different experience...to not be constantly happy...how boring that seems now. May the questioning continue...mayhaps this then is to be the new phase.

48 hours and still counting...

There is something incredibly exhilarating about being so completely exhausted and tired that my brain is kind of disconnected with the rest of me! At times I can go on for a couple of days without sleep, but there definitely has to be strong enough motivation for me to miss out on sleep. It can be an extracurricular activity that I am doing for myself or the short but sweet time spent with friends doing crazy things like playing cards late into the night and then going to bed only after having seen the moon set, the sun rise and with a hot cup of coffee warming me or gazing at the stars as they seem to move across the dark night sky and even at times an experiment which just cannot be planned in a more sane manner. So such late nights or rather early mornings and unending sagas of sleep deprivation would normally be expected to make a person cranky, prone to mood swings and basically depressed. In my case I seem to notice that I do pass through the above-mentioned phases but then I reach that point beyond which nothing seems to impinge; its like all my inhibitions are lowered, I say stuff and am a lot more outspoken than normal. And the best part is I am aware that I am behaving differently but well, I couldn't care less! It makes me wonder if perhaps this is what happens when one is just slightly, pleasantly drunk. Someday, I intend to find out :D !!!

Anyway, as I was saying, it is a great feeling to test my limits and to see how long and how far I can stretch myself before collapsing entirely. Most call me mad, think I am not careful enough. But the fact of the matter is, at times it is the best choice I can make. While I am still young enough to be able to handle this, while I am still resilient enough is the very time to try out all this madness. Later I might be too old, too prim and proper, too 'grown-up' to even consider going days without sleep or getting so tired that if I just stop in the middle of a sentence, I could fall asleep! 

So I say, live exactly the way you wish to while you still have the freedom to do so. Do all the crazy wild stuff you might have dreamed about, all the supposedly irresponsible things you have always wanted to do and all the "living it king-size", while you are still young and able enough. You never know what tomorrow holds...so live entirely for today...and enjoy it to the fullest...and never regret it as long as each one of your decisions are wholeheartedly yours!

Coming home...

Staying away from family is a good experience; if only because those moments that you have to steal and hoard to be with them become so much more precious. 

I had lived with my family for almost my entire life till the time I left home to get some more education. And looking back, it was a very protected existence all along! Life is a lot simpler when you know you are going home every single day to people who love you, no matter what. You can have a crabby day and throw tantrums or have your sweetest day but at the end of it someone is waiting at home for you. In hindsight, it is a safe world and you are never on your own. Funnily enough, while I lived at home, I chafed against all the rules and regulations...no terribly late nights, the parents doling out advice: "Do make an effort to be a little tidier. Your room might be pleasantly surprised to look a little better than as if it has just been through a mini-tornado" or the eternal "Hey you know what...the sun does rise in the East...just telling you coz you have probably never seen it any earlier than when it is plonk in the middle of the afternoon sky!!!" So I constantly cribbed and dreamed about "The day I shall be independent...staying on my own...a free bird..." 

So when I finally did move into a hostel...the first few days were bliss. While other people pined for home and actually had bouts of home-sickness, to me it seemed all like an adventure. Hanging out with friends and chatting away to glory into the wee hours, getting up as and when I desired (though classes in the morning kinda put an abrupt end to that dream), drinking umpteen cups of coffee, thriving in the piles and piles of mess in my room...in short doing all that I always thought I wanted to! This was fun till the time I realised that there is only so much "freaking out" that I can get up to...beyond that life has to have atleast the slightest hint of a pattern. Home was never really a place with restrictions, but a place where my bid for freedom did not venture into the wild zone. Family has this unique ability to let you be just as you wish to...no pretence, no masks...nobody cares if you have a rude day or a fat day (hahaha...those who know me shall definitely get this! :D :D) There is something so comforting about coming home again...being able to let your hair down and dropping all your "acts". It is weird but today it seems to me as if I have the most freedom when I am home. 

And home is not just the place I go back to but the people I love most in the world...people who complete me. I am truly blessed! 

Paper Blues...

I had to present a paper at the department today and I ended up giving such a  dismal performance that I am almost glad...atleast I know that I shall never ever be any worse than this! It is not as if I had not understood the paper at all; the problem was communicating a new and complicated piece of data provided by someone else to an audience that had almost no related background. And to top this I was so nervous that my hands shook, my voice quivered and I was bumbling up the words as if I were a complete novice as regards the English language...I could not remember the right words and was berating myself for the same even while a part of my brain was trying to talk to the audience!

All in all, a bad way to give your first department presentation! Makes me feel like a mix of all kinds of fools!

Ah well, this is turning into one of those "me and my diary" sessions! That's it, I make a resolution that this is the last time I put up a crib as a post. Just that having gotten this out of my head I suddenly feel so much lighter! Though, am sure it is utterly boring to read about people's lives and especially the low points in it...reading about someone's opinions is an altogether different matter :) 

Memories...

Memories are such funny things...the most unexpected ones suddenly pop up out of nowhere. You have completely forgotten some experience or a person and then for no apparent reason you recall everything and the memory is not even blurred...its crystal clear and if only you close your eyes you can see everything that happened in full technicolour. So how and where is memory stored and what makes some memories lie deeply buried? Its awesome, the kind of multi-channel and whacky storage system our brain uses!  

I read in the news the other day that people have found some way by which memories can be erased and this apparently will prove a boon for people who are haunted by bad memories and perennially depressed but would I ever be ready to give up even one of my memories? The grossest, most painful memory still holds a part of a past me and I don't think I would ever want to lose that part...would that not make me incomplete? Perhaps I find it easier to say this since I have not had any really terrifying memory...and most events when looked at as memories appear not as bad as they seemed when I was truly living through those moments. This has been an area that has fascinated story tellers and filmmakers. Two movies I have seen recently that deal with the loss of memory (willingly or by accident) are "Memento" and "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind". I would not say that they have brilliant actors or directors but the stories are so off-beat and crazy that I just kept watching till the end. 

Some memories are beautiful and warm and comfortable and filled with the brightest light and sparkling laughter and a pure happiness while others are tinged with a little sorrow while others still are dark and dangerous and brimming with hatred, yet they are all so "individual" in nature since, what I remember of an experience that I shared with you shall forever be different from your remembrance of it. Its almost as if my memories too make me special.

Just a Smile :)

Today morning I woke up with the widest ever grin on my face. I don't remember what I was so happy about, perhaps a really beautiful dream, or perhaps I had been let in on the ultimate joke in life and I don't even know what it was now...but that hardly matters. What I remember overwhelmingly is the fact that I was so surprised by my own smile!!! As if a smile is really out of place...and now that I think back, I have never ever woken up in the morning feeling incredibly happy about just any and everything..no cribs, no whines. This is something that you supposedly get to do only when you are a child. I have almost forgotten this crazy happiness, just this joy at being alive; not the happiness for having gotten something or done something well. That you learn to appreciate as you grow up. But children have the ability to tap into some secret source of unending delight and they see no reason why you should not smile. Perhaps there is a lot to treasure in that innocence and untarnished view of the world...and one must cherish it if not try and emulate it.

I wonder if you have ever felt this way, like you don't really know where life is taking you. I wish at times that there would be some guarantees...about work, family, future, present...whatever!!! There is so much uncertainty in everyday life...the unpredictable is fun, yes, but at times I wish I knew exactly what was to happen and when..the not knowing is bad. If the situation calls for action on my part, then its a different matter but when the matter is absolutely not influenced by anything I may wish, want or do...that's when it hurts the most. 

I absolutely hate not being a hundred percent in control of my life!!!

The Guitar Guy

I never thought I would be thankful for this..but the mess being closed for dinner today was indeed a blessing. I did not go out for dinner at a restaurant with an entire gang of friends as is the custom normally. Instead a friend and I went to this small canteen on campus where you get sandwiches and the most awesome coffee (by current campus standards!!!) and then another person turned up and we chatted about all kinds of things...from courses and classes, bosses and their tantrums, to movies, guys, music, books and so on.
So what's the big deal in all this huh? Well, the real point is that we heard this guy playing away on his guitar all by himself. He was perhaps rehearsing or just strumming melodies for himself. All I can say is it was a wonderful way to spend the evening...simply sitting there lost in the music created by a stranger all for himself...
Whoever he was, I hope he plays there often. I sure am going to drink a lot of coffee there in the next few days, hoping to hear him some more. Where else will I get to hear live guitar to my heart's content?? Especially when someone is not putting up a deliberate performance but is just making music!!! Ah! this is one of those unexplainable reasons why I love campus :)

It utterly amazes me as to why and how people spend their time thinking bad stuff about other people. In fact I am not sure whether such behavior deserves pity or disgust or utter surprise! Time is so precious and if it is spent plotting someone else’s downfall and thinking about ways to ensure that same someone else’s failure, what better way of wasting, in fact, losing time out of your own life! I wonder if such people really believe that they can spoil another’s future. I am a firm believer in the triumph of good over evil, naïve I know, but nevertheless true. It’s so much more preferable than being cynical and never finding any beauty anywhere. Ah…am not sure if I wish to venture into any philosophical meanderings so am signing off! Adios!

Hmm…this is a fresh attempt at writing this blog. Let me state the ground rules. This is my take on the world, my perspective and my opinions and if you do not agree with the stuff here don’t worry; you are not necessarily in the wrong…it’s just that I think I am right.

Now that we are done with the basic stuff the rest ought to just flow like melted chocolate…all rich and deliciously sinful but Ah! It’s almost like somebody has frozen my mind and nothing delightful is ready to emerge as yet. So ideally, I ought to shut shop instead of trying to seem funny…its not as if anybody is ever going to read this and what’s the use of being funny for one’s own self?

Actually that’s really sad, because why should I care about being funny for other people?