If Nature could talk

    With eyes closed I asked her, what do you think nature is?

She innocently closed her eyes, smiled and said, “Nature is green plants, birds in the sky and fish in the sea. That’s nature.”

“Do you really think that’s all I am?” I asked the girl curiously.

“You’re Nature?” she asked me with wide eyes.

“Of course, I am” I replied immediately.

    I always find it pretty funny when people print out labels on products claiming how ‘natural’ its ingredients are. What is unnatural really? Is there anything without me? Oh, you humans amuse me!

    People are very narrow-minded of my forms…as if I’m there in one and not in the other.

I am everything.

I am the roaring sea and the shining thunder skies. I am the quiet morning dawn and dew. I am in every birth and in every death fading into the earth. I am the chirping birds in the sky and the bubbling fishes in the sea & rivers. I am the bright warm sunshine…I am the cold depths of the ocean. I am the chaotic company of animals and the solitary nothingness of outer space. Everything you know, experience and possess is mine and you too are part of my existence. I am the universe and the universe is alive in me.

I am both death and life. I nurture and destroy…but really…who can destroy me? I am immortal, neither did you create me, nor can truly destroy me. But I can destroy you quite easily…Storms, droughts, floods, earthquakes, tornado, diseases and erupting volcanoes are some of the many weapons under my sleeve. I have more from where that came from.

Life progresses towards death. And then, from death begins new life.  That’s the circle of life that I orchestrate…and I assure you, from my view, it’s a beautiful medley.

    I will admit that humans are strange animals, never quite came across a species like it. Humans, so full of pride, fail to understand that I’m too complicated to comprehend and too strong & smart to be manipulated forever. Remember? There always has to be a balance. But your feeble and short human lifespans fail to grasp the vastness of the complexities you wish to tamper with, and thus, you’ll continuously suffer as I, time and again, try to bring about a balance in me.

    When I brought out the recent pandemic, humans stayed home and watched me take over their localities.  They looked out of their windows and imagined how beautiful this world would be without them, they wished for that world without their species. I found that strange. I sensed a sort of self-hatred in humans. They think they can’t be part of the beauty because they’re currently struggling to find a good co-existence of their species and the rest of nature. I am Nature and I realize that humans too are part of me.  

Humans are powerful and intelligent, but they should be humble enough to be at peace with not knowing everything to the degree I know myself. For its only with humility that one can learn.

Our co-existence is possible…don’t you believe it?

I looked down at the young girl near me, looking at me in awe of all that I have said. I picked her up and showed her the vastness of my existence.

    When she finally found the words to speak, she said, “You’re beautiful, Mother Nature. Can I be your friend?”

“You already are my friend, your species had just been a bad friend to me so far.”

She looked down in sorrow for a minute then looked back up at me again. She fumbled on her words when she tried to speak, but finally said the words I was looking for in every creature since the beginning of time, “I promise to do better, Mother Nature, I promise I’ll be a better friend to you.”

Just then, I remembered of all the humans who devoted their lives and energies into protecting me and the thin balance of everything. They too were my friends.

And so, we walked together hand in hand to tomorrow. We walked and talked. I told her stories of the lives that had taken shapes and forms through me. She enjoyed my company and I could say the same for her as well. Humans are strange feeble creatures who amuse me. I am fond of them. We walked into a better world where you and I were good friends to each other.

Originally posted on Syllable Soup's blog of St. Andrews College as the winning entry (1st Place) of the 2020 Creative Writing Competition.

Edited by Pearl Fernandes on the 31st, August, 2021

14 Perks of Diary Writing

    

    Like mentioned earlier on this blog, I have been writing a yearly diary since the year 2012. It was a fad I wanted to follow that I kept seeing in movies and shows…and you know what? I’m glad I did. It has helped me throughout the years for multiple reasons. 

There is something romantic about picking up my diary anytime during the day or night and just writing my heart out. The way the pen scratches and makes an impression on the paper…the way the ink glides and guides me on the path to balance and peace…and the way I don’t notice how many pages I’ve written until my train of thought reaches its station. 

Diary writing has been the reason I run out of books to use for it every few months. I think for just this year, I’ve already used up three 200-page books! But it rarely feels like a task like it used to feel when I just began. Writing just comes naturally to me now and some might say I keep way too many diaries!

Before further ado…let’s get into the many perks of diary writing:

1. Improves grammar and writing skills

Here’s the perk I noticed instantly after reading past diaries. In my first diary, my hand-writing was horrible and unreadable. It had too many grammatical & spelling mistakes to decipher. In just the next year’s diary, the writing actually made sense and the improvement was drastic. I was surprised.

2. A place to vent

My diary is my preferred place to vent out all my uncomfortable feelings like sadness or anger. It feels safe to write all the curse words and depressing thoughts you have ever thought about. And the best part of this is…the feeling of relief and well-thought out conclusions you come to after a long session of diary writing. It feels like therapy. No need to burden another person with your problems and the expectation to understand…nor having to wait patiently for your close one's availability…just pick up your diary and a pen and get on with it!

3. More fluid writing

Since the first years of writing in my diary, I’ve noticed how easily I can write sentences that are connected to each other. It isn’t a random rambling of detached thoughts and people who have read any of my essays lately, also testify the same. 

4. Better emotional control

Because of repeated self-soothing and compassion that I accomplish through diary writing, I feel more at peace and control of my emotions. Emotions don’t overwhelm me as much as it used to (it could also be the fact that I’ve grown a lot since then). I can now more easily hold on to anger or discomfort and express it in a healthy way like diary writing. 

5. A healthy coping mechanism 

During phases of my life in which I used to not write in my diary as often, I noticed how easily disturbed I was and how much more likely it was that I’d indulge in unhealthy coping mechanisms like stress-eating, temper-tantrums and so on. I really felt very mentally exhausted and overwhelmed in the times I didn’t or couldn’t write it out which caused my mind to feel like stagnant water. 

6. No rules 

A big perk to diary writing is that there is no way to do it wrong. You create the rules and you are the only authority. If you want to write a 3-page manifesto at the beginning, or imagine what would it take to break into your school, or rant about your annoying friend for 10 pages…there isn’t anything or anyone stopping you from expressing yourself. Go do it!

7. Improves memory

I noticed how much more easily I can hold on to details of my day because I normally do so to be able to write down that detail in my diary at the end of the day. Many of my friends also agree that when it comes to details of my day, no-one can beat me on my recall. (Given I was paying attention)

8. Improves conversation

The thoughts that I express in conversation has greatly improved because of years of training to write my thoughts in diary. I can put complex feelings & experiences into words and this is what helped me in my conversations with people in real life. I can express myself to others more easily when I can express things to myself well. 

9. Opportunity to decorate

Diaries are an amazing opportunity to decorate! Be it the cover or the pages in between. Use all the cool art supplies you have and go crazy. Use beads, ribbons, cut-outs, drawings, tickets, stickers…write the year in calligraphy, block or graffiti-inspired fonts. Do whatever you want and be pleased with your creation. 

10. A treasure chest of good (and bad memories)

This is my personal favorite. I love how easily I can journal about my most beautiful memories of my life as they happen. I can remember every detail of it. I don’t have to worry about forgetting the good times cause it’s all there in my diary, systematically dated. I have so many memories, etched into paper that I can always go back to and relive. 

11. Tracking goals, habits and appointments

It’s hard to keep track of everything you need and want to do. This is why journaling helps you know what your goals are and actively pursue them. You can track your progress on building or breaking a habit or your next dentist appointment or even a school function. It’s easy and it’s all in one place. (And there’s no way your book’s battery will die, unlike electronics)

12. Feel them later

There have been many times when I have scribbled away a difficult feeling or experience and then referred to it later after I’ve calmed down to re-evaluate myself and my reaction. This helps me look at my responses to stress and assess what beliefs/biases are hurting me & my life.

 

13. Improves writing speed and stamina

In the process of writing everyday or every time you're overwhelmed, you find that you can easily write several pages without tiring over time. Suddenly, writing exams and assignments are easier and you get done faster than before. Even note-taking during classes and lectures are effort-less after starting this adventure. 

14. Looking into the deep past

It’s just a fun thing to do I guess, reading old diaries & seeing how the problems you once faced & cried about, are long gone. It’s hilarious to read about the people I once liked and the friends I once had. I love the nostalgia. But I love seeing myself grow and discover this beautiful world, again and again. It gives me a sense of gratitude for having this life and it also gives me hope imagining an older, wiser version of me looking back and laughing at my present-day problems that also got resolved eventually. It’s a magical experience of pseudo-time travel. 

There are times of great stress or change when I feel my sense of self spinning. It's so uncertain about who I am sometimes that I look back to see who I used to be in my journals. It gives me a sense of stability despite always changing and growing through life.

Did I convince you to keep a diary? I certainly hope I did. 😊

Turtles all the way down (Book Review)

    I remember the time the movie based on a John Green book got really popular. The movie was called, “The Fault in Our Stars” and I was in high school when it came out. I wasn’t really interested in it. It seemed like a sad movie…I didn’t like sad movies. And so, I decided this guy named John Green was weird and moved on with my life. 

    Few years later I found a really cool educational YouTube channel and started watching it’s philosophy course. It was by some guy named Hank Green and turns out, John Green is his brother and also hosts such courses. So come pandemic, I started watching Crash Course’s World History Course for the same reason I began the Philosophy Course…It’s fun! After a while, I thought to myself, "What the heck, I'll even give his book a try."

So, I began reading "Turtles all the way down" by John Green.

    It started off slow, like usual novels. But along the way to completion, I could really see his personality come out in the characters he wrote in that book. It was really easy to recognize his thoughts in this book. I know it might be a weird thing to say when reading someone's book. 

But that's the cool thing about writing a piece of your original work, you put a little of yourself in the story...whether it's the character, location or perspectives, you put a piece of your soul in what you create. 

    The blabbering of random facts and history was something I saw in John Green even in his World History Course videos, was seen in the writings of that book. I appreciate the realistic and good light with which he described the main character, Aza Holmes' anxiety. I liked how he talked about the need for therapy and psychiatric medicines in a positive way...thereby reducing the stigma against these evidence-based treatments. So many writers and creators choose to perpetuate false ideas about what mental health is and demonizes its victims rather than help and empathize with their struggles. This book made a good attempt in removing that stigma and I am better having read it. It also didn’t have magical or spontaneous cures of mental illness. (It might be possible, but it’s rare.) 

    Mental health is so important and I can't stress that enough. We all think we know what it is but distance ourselves from genuine empathy and acceptance of it. Mental illness is always thought of to be something incurable and un-treatable and shameful and wrong...that we forget that this rationale further worsens mental illness outcomes in our society. 

    Another amazing characteristic of this book is its love for astronomy. It’s a big expansive and beautiful universe that we're part of. I remember being so interested in planets and space as a child. Everyone knows of the planets in our solar system, it's nothing short of a miracle to be alive and to be conscious to experience it all. This book highlights the awesomeness of astronomy as seen in the interests of the character, Davis Pickett Jr. I enjoyed reading his commentaries on space-y stuff. 

    The story felt real. It had good and bad things happening throughout the story, just like real life. It really proves the maturity and skill of the writer to pull off such an intricate storyline. Books like these make learning and scientific thinking so interesting to teenagers and young adults like myself. I'm glad that such authors get the press. The world is really changing in its views of good authorship and I am glad to be part of it. 

    In the future, I hope to finish reading the book, “The fault in our stars” by the same author. When I’m done, I’ll try to get my hands on the movie as well. 

    There are so many great experiences and works of art that we miss out on because of our mortality and biases. Mortality can’t be cured, but our biases can be…to a great extent. 

The Pills In Your Mouth

    There are a lot of health-related fears in the air around us these days. With polarized opinions regarding every topic, like the ones related to medicine and treatment, it is very confusing to choose which path one must take towards a good or better health. 

We all hear of and fall victim to new diseases or fall prey to an old, yet incurable one. It is a worrying thought to think about. It was a thought that particularly worried me as a child, the fear of getting those dreaded “incurable” diseases. 

Then there’s the thing about doctors. Doctors do seem mysterious in their ways and mannerisms. All wrapped up in heavily complicated medical terminology and statistics…with pills, tablets, capsules and potions to aid in treatments…no wonder so much of their lives are still unknown to us. 

Most doctors do bridge the gap and help one become more educated about their illness. However, some thrive with the asymmetric information on their side and do nothing about it.

Many people grow up in fear of the unknown mystery that are doctors and their medicines. Maybe I had it too until I had a very bad illness in my childhood that wrecked havoc to my otherwise golden childhood. A doctor’s advice on medicine cured me and since then, I’ve been less anxious and scared of the peculiarities of my body and the changes it goes through when it’s sick. 

With a good doctor, you feel heard and validated for the experience of your illness and ailment. You feel empowered with the correct diagnosis. The unknown sickness that has been hurting you, now has a name. The strange ambiguity has been given a name and now you’re on your way to recovery. 

Lately, I’ve noticed how many different pills I’ve been having for a variety of ailments. Sometimes I wonder, “Am I really at the prime of my health?”

We often go into seasons of illness and suffering that seem not to have an end. It’s just eternal popping of pills into your mouth and drowning it in a quick large sip of water, day after day. 

I won’t say it doesn’t get exhausting. It does. 

I remember recently how I had to have around 6 tablets everyday for 15 days. It was so annoying. 

But when I think about it. It isn’t mindless consumption of something I don’t understand, let alone can pronounce. (As most medicines have tongue-twisting chemical formulae as their name)

Medicines I have, are under the guidance of a wise, well-trained doctor in the recommended doses they advise me to take, bought from a well-equipped pharmacy that sources its medicines from high quality pharmaceutical industries. I live in the 21st century, a time medical science has achieved leaps and bonds. People in the ancient world would kill to receive the treatment I’m getting in my time.

I comfort my woes of taking timely medicine with this rationale…that, I’m grateful to be born in a time there is treatment for whatever I’m suffering. 

And whatever the side-effects, it beats being sick and the risk of that illness progressing into something far worse. 

I also try to think that taking medicines on time and following medical advice is a self-care ritual for my ailing body. 

Being sick isn’t fun…but with each dose I take in its recommended time…I’m beating the illness…one pill at a time. 

Changing the recipe for your life

Cooking is such a big deal and also not, at the same time. The act of eating and bringing people together motivates us to do it. We sit around the T.V. and watch shows based on it while we eat our meals...the food entertainment industry continues to fuel our addiction. And our addiction is fueled by our biological need to live and maintain our body. It doesn't even matter where you are....at any given point in time, the culture of food is a rich one and it indulges everyone who dared to partake in it. 

My own cooking journey has taken me to many situations. And no, I'm not saying this as a professional chef (cause obviously, I'm not). I'm just saying this as an ordinary non-celeb person who has had numerous experiences related to cooking. 

It all started as a child when I used to help my mother in the kitchen....cutting vegetables and fruits. Like most people, the first complete dish I made was instant noodles. Then this progressed into me trying out random dishes and enjoying the gamble of whether it would end up in something delicious or a disaster. Then I had a small break from it after a discouraging comment saying it was my duty to learn how to cook since I'm a girl. But now, I go back in the kitchen to make something new, motivated with the rumblings of my tummy and my curiosity to experiment. I've tried many dishes over the summers, this eternal lock-down and during times of random outbursts of inspiration. I've cooked with my family and friends....Especially my sister and mom during this lock down. It's a great way to bond and spend time with someone. 

I personally love the philosophy of lazy cooking. Doing the least amount of effort for making great food. 

Cooking is essentially edible chemistry. You mix things together, heat or cool it and create something amazing; that you can eat (hopefully) unlike traditional chemistry. The process can take over your senses, like an artist painting their masterpiece. The world just slips back and falls away...and it's just you, your ingredients, your cooking devices and the recipe. 

I act like a total pro when I cook. I read the recipe, evaluate what seems reasonable and what steps I can do without...add and subtract ingredients to my liking.....and use substitutes when there's an ingredient I don't have or can't buy in my country. 

Recently I realized how insightful the Indian way of cooking is, "To make do with the things you have." Of course, not everyone can improvise. But it's important to know when it is required, instead of running around 100+ stores searching for that one ingredient that could easily be substituted...Or crying in the corner, over not owning an oven. 

We all aren't born in the same place, with the same resources, tools and ingredients for our lives. We may have dreams of fine-dining dishes and expensive ingredients and equipment or...big dreams of success. But life doesn't always give us the things we most want from it. It's all so random. So rather than starving cause you can't get exactly what you want...why not improvise with the things you have? Substitute those ingredients for different ones at your disposal. It might be better than the mentioned ingredient in your recipe.

We read about the lives of others and expect the recipe to always stay the same. We push ourselves into rigid boxes and rules on how we too can achieve success. But the recipe to success is always changing. So.... Why not go out there and make your own?

Having a recipe to follow is a good guide. But food/taste preferences are so subjective. Hence, you need not frustrate yourself with the recipe, you need not live life to the standards and preferences of others...I don't care how famous they are. They are not going to sit and eat this dish you make...you are. They are not going to face the good or bad consequences of your life's decisions...you are. 

So make good decisions. Make your own dish...your own life. And to hell to anyone else who says otherwise. 

Another person in the crowd

Would the absence of one person be felt in local trains or crowded streets? Would there somehow be someone who noticed your absence and felt the emptiness inside them eat a void into their hearts? Would an absentee be felt in a class filled to the brim with students of all types, loud and soft, diverse and bland? Would the world so big and mighty feel your absence if you weren't in it? The quietness of outer space, with incomprehensible noises echoing in the distance, makes no sense, so holds no meaning to you....how could yours hold any meaning or worth then?

The stars make patterns in the sky, and you make patterns in the sand...only to be changed in a matter of time. 

So what's the use?

What's the value of life?

What's the value of my life?

Should I stay? Should I go?

Life is so unpredictable. We feel the highs and lows...and try to make sense of the middle. The middle sometimes being the feeling of numbness.

I notice the ones at the train station. Even if my mind wanders, I still scan your face in the crowds. When the vehicles on the streets pass me by, I look for your face in them. In the loud and noisy crowds, I look through each face, like browsing through a clothing rack, in search of you.

Where are you?

You are a loved one of mine.

Even if strangers, I recognize you and feel a sense of security and comfort arise in the familiarity of your face. 

I have an expectation of you at your bus stop and in the over-filled classrooms of my city. We might have never even spoken, but I remember you.

I remember when you ate a certain snack on your way home as you stared at your phone screen and laughed, almost loudly, at a joke you read. I saw your face light up at the sight of the sea and the salty ocean breeze as you took that path along the seashore. I noticed you from a distance by the way you walk and the silhouette of your body. 

I know you and appreciate having such a unique specimen to gaze at and admire.

I respect you when you're near, loved one...whether you're a friend, a family member, a helper, an authoritative figure, a colleague. I see the peculiar way you eat and the intricacies of your preferences I try to find out. I register our moments in my mind and recall them whenever I feel down. I say it sometimes, but not enough, "Thank you." But maybe when you feel the need to hide all your emotions because you feel you're too much, I should say, "I see you and I'm trying to understand how to be there for you."

I guess I'll never succeed in making this place and my heart as comfy and homelike as you need me to be. But I will always try to....and I'll never stop trying to. 

I won't lie to you...The world will go on without you. But to the ones who notice you from a distance or from up close....we will definitely miss you. We will feel a feeling of vacant space in our hearts when you leave. We will feel light-headed of the place in our minds where you were, when you were on our minds. 

We will surely feel the cluttering way worry comes...first a little, then a lot. Then it will all disappear when we see you the next time. After the short hiatus taken by you due to illness, family issues or other troubles. 

Maybe we are all lonely and don't make sense in this world. We sometimes question the roles we play in life as a whole. Some find purpose, some don't. Some find stability in that, some are fine with the ambiguity. We all need some recognition for our efforts. We all have people we admire and look forward to seeing though, be it a stranger or a known person. 

In this life we are but lonely. But know that there are always people willing to take their life's journey with you. For then, we will be lonely but together.

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Adulting: Playing the part

    Since a young age, we would look up to adults with sheer wonder sparkling in our eyes. It seemed like such a beautiful perfect world. We all wanted to grow up quickly because of the envy we felt, over how adults could choose and live life the way they wanted. 

    So we fast tracked on every superficial characteristic on what it means to look like an adult. We see it everywhere in our society...the make-up, the clothes, the alcohol and other "adult things". 

    Can you blame an innocent child into believing this was what it meant to be, to be an adult? We don't know any better. Maybe it's time society taught us better.

    When I turned 18...I didn't feel any different. The world treated me a little differently in legal situations...but for the most part, I was still treated like a child. Soon, I'll turn 21, and I doubt it'll make me feel any different as well.

What's the right way of feeling on birthdays anyway?

    Lately, I and my classmates have been busy studying, looking for college courses, scholarships, internships and jobs to apply after our graduation. At every step there's so many more routes we can take, that it becomes confusing to decide which one will be the right decision for us.

    I had the habit of over-planning when I was still in school. Then in High school, I realized, it made me an anxious wreck, so I started planning only for the very next step. It was a good strategy that I followed, until now. 

    I'm back to over-planning out of necessity.

    

    I'm usually a lazy person...so that part of me just wants to keep with the way things are going, instead of trying something different that could be good for me. But I know and fear the reality, that all opportunities come along with anxiety and may pass me by…if I don't act within the specified time. After that, all I'll be left with, will be regrets.

    Turning into an adult wasn’t as dramatic or great as I once thought. However, there is a joy I feel, over finally growing up despite not achieving my dreams yet.

    Early Adulthood is a phase for me where I'm still trying to learn the ropes of life. Slowly transitioning from making my own decisions and bearing the consequences of those decisions. I'm failing at the life standards I set at a young age. But in time I've come to know that it’s OK if your dreams change due to the new information you have at hand. 

    Even if in 5 years, I'm not where I want to be. It's only because of the hurdles I faced; The hurdles of adulthood that no-one talked to us about while growing up. So, I guess I can't only be angry at myself, right? No-one warned me about the boredom of paperwork, anxiety of looking through courses, insecurities of job eligibility, unstable politics, unreasonable restrictions by parents, stereotyping by society, and so on.

    When I look back at the dreams of my childhood self, I know it was too romanticized and set in the imagination of a perfect world. I am happy I had the innocence and imagination of a perfect world back then, but it's time to wake up and play the part.

A friend for every trait

What a roller coaster ride my life has been with such a variety of people I call my friends! I’m pretty sure, you too can look back into the past and see the people who have been by your side when you needed them and the ones who didn't.

Whatever our experiences, shared or personal, we gradually understood the kind of bond we shared with those we called our friends.

I get it, friendships evolve as we do. Some end abruptly and some never seem to end.

I used to be the kind of girl that never understood how people would have friends they knew for around a decade. I thought they were lucky back then.

Now I’m not so sure I care anymore. I’m fulfilled with the way randomness gave me the friends I have or at least, did have at some point.

When I count the number of close friendships I have, I feel rich. This is the phrase I keep in mind when I see the variety and complexity of friendships I’m in....

A friend for every trait.

I like how I see myself reflected through my friends....they bring a whole new dimension to my interests and quirks.

I have friends with similarities in areas such as musical taste, germophobia, social anxiety, aesthetic, philosophical reasoning & logic, faith, aspirations, nerdiness, art style, introversion and so on. One friend can have more than one similarity...but what I really get excited about is when I make a friend who’s dissimilar to me...I see it as an opportunity to learn to see the world through another’s eyes....to see something different, to learn something different....it all excites me.

It took me a while to get to this point, but I no longer need to have people exactly like me in order to respect them....I don’t understand my friends all the time nor have all the same beliefs they do....but I know how to be respectful of their life. It’s so freeing. And it has opened a whole new world for me.

Friends leave sometimes....some, out of the blue, some, expected...some eventually....and some come back to you.

This is always a hurtful experience. Some close friends remain distant...and a void exists between us when we see each other. Another stinging experience is when you see someone who used to be close to you, and now isn’t a friend at all. And some friendships, never take root, they never happen.....even though you tried your best to make it work.

Strangely, some kinds of friendships come back in our lives, through other people. I found a friend who is like a friend I had lost in my life. And you feel the circle of life filling the gap that used to exist....maybe that kind of friendship was important in your life....and the universe felt it necessary to fill it. I felt this recently. I felt no more the regret of the friendship that I had lost.

In the friendship hierarchy, sometimes we find ourselves feeling something unusual...especially for a person like me....love, the romantic kind of friendship. Those friendships bring out the best and worst out of us...and we take every failure extremely personally. But eventually, if were brave enough to love again, we’ll find the right one.

Friends, through their love, teach us to love ourselves. Yes, it can be vice versa too. Self-love can teach you to be a better friend to others. It’s a crazy complicated web you’ll realize, when you try to discover yourself. I think who I am, keeps changing .....and so, I try my best to stay connected to my inner self....I think I’m worth befriending after all....do you consider yourself to be worthy of your friendship as well?

Home

"Make yourselves at home, this is your home. "

What is your idea of home? Is it a certain place? Is it a certain locality? Is it a person?
How many homes do you have? How many homes can a person have?

When the concept of home comes to mind... I think of stability. A fixed place I can come back to, to relax, be at peace, sleep and prepare for the next day.
Yet this concept of home changes so much from person to person and also from time to time.

A home brings a general sense of security. But it isn't always a place.
It could be a person, who always makes you feel safe... No matter where you are with them.

We tend to be crazier at home.... Our home. No need to behave too civilized... Be completely honest in your comfort zone.... Home is where the crazies are.

My understanding of home was written in paper and then, that paper went into a washing machine. The machine was switched on, and the cold water and soap swirled it... Spinning on circles again and again. What I'm left with after that, is a mushy wet pile of paper. So I pressed it and wrote on it again... Home... What is home? Who is home? Am I at home?

The scary and awesome part about all this is that.... We get adjusted to new environments very quickly. Afterall, all it takes is a little familiarity, right?
Home could be anywhere. Anywhere around the world. It could be next door.... It could be where you are right now.
It can be found in every person's heart... It just takes the right kind of person to succeed in the search.
It's in every great & mighty building and in every small slum or hut.
So do look out for home... It may surprise you where you'll find it. But you will find it. Give it some time to reveal itself to you... Let your home be revealed to you. And at the end of each day, may you find yourselves at home...no matter were you've been through all day long. Be at home for a while... Even if it's just a feeling, you realise.

Is being understood even possible?

You can be in a room full of people or in an empty room and still feel just as lonely. Loneliness comes from not feeling seen, appreciated and understood enough. 

I'm on an eternal search of being fully understood. I sometimes think I've found it in someone but then they don't the next time. And I keep searching.

We sometimes put so much pressure on someone else to understand us when we don't understand ourselves. We don't know ourselves.

I used to think I knew me. But maybe that was back then....when there wasn't much about me that needed to be known. Maybe I changed... Maybe we're all constantly changing.

Then, I was given questions to ask myself. It was surprising but, I couldn't answer them as fast as I thought I could. Few questions took me many days to answer and the conclusion it led me to believe was this.... Even I don't know myself, then why do I expect others to? Even I don't understand my motives and emotions that well, how will others do?

Sometimes I act all mysterious and don't even give people opportunities to get to know me. Then I complain no-one understands? What the heck, man. 

But it's true, some of us don't allow people to understand us and so we end up misunderstood. 

Give people a chance, some may let you down....some may try their best but still not understand while some will....those are the ones you need to keep in your life. 

A professor once gave us a hypothetical example of a stranger coming up to us and telling us our friend is terrible and a total loser. Many raised their hands when asked who all will start arguing with him/her against it.

But I laughed to myself and said, "What does that random passer-by know anything about my friend? He/she knows nothing and so their comment holds no value to me. I'd walk by."

When I was a little smaller.... The opinions of others bothered me a lot. I would take every comment very personal. I'd get hurt or embarrassed very easily. But now, I think to myself about many such things....."What do they know about me? Nothing."

I really got used to the whole 'asking myself questions to know myself' thing. And got a little more used to asking myself why.

The world doesn't seem all that cold-hearted anymore. I don't feel the scary dread of not being understood by everyone, all the time. "Because I deserve love and care, even if it is from myself", that's what someone awesome once told me.

I'll keep these words in my diary and soul forever. Because the world isn't so cold anymore, if I'm a good friend to me.

No-one knows or understands me completely and I don't either. That's alright. A little mystery makes life a little more interesting.

Do you want a war?

The news plastered it everywhere. India and Pakistan is in a soup. Everyone formed their opinions on the matter and got drunk on fear.

What if a war really does breakout?

War is a reality, unfortunately, for many of the people around the world. It's their normal routine. It's their "same old story"....day in and day out.

I don't want to live in the uncertainty of whether or not a war will begin and kill everyone including me. And I don't want anyone to live in such uncertainty.

Some people who may never see the effects of war may think it's just a game... "Blow them up, who cares? We're stronger, right?"

Wrong, it's being cowardly. Only a coward will hide in their comfort while young innocents waste their life killing other young innocents for the sake of showing who's the boss. Cowards hide behind a gun many a times.

It's so stupid. Yet some people around wanted war.
They wanted death. They wanted revenge. All for what?
For nothing.

There has been countless number of art forms and literature created to just show how foolish people are when they advocate for war and blood shed. But people aren't convinced.

How many more lives are to go down this path before we realize the value of human life? How many?

War makes things worse and it just doesn't create the atmosphere to love each other...no, not at all.

It's just one of the extreme effects of the "Us v/s Them" mentality.

I dream of the day, we all come together and put our guns and bombs down into a ditch and bury it forever. Life can be lived in harmony, even with people you disagree with. All that is necessary is respect.....mutual respect and a desire to understand.

The unlikely Catalyst, Competition

Competitions.
Ask any student of this city, they'll tell you how tough the competition in academics are these days. 

And often times, it's very discouraging when you work hard to pass or top your studies and then end up failing, barely passing or not becoming a topper.
Sometimes, it's almost expected of us to choose smaller dreams just because of the state of competitive exams. We're always bombarded with the feeling of inadequacy and that's very disheartening. It's painful to know your best wasn't good enough.

Recently I was reminded of how we would compete with everyone about everything, besides tests, back in school....walking, writing notes, eating, being the most popular and so on.
People love to compete. And some people only live for it. Without it, their life becomes incomplete.

It's good to have achievements. It's good to aim for the top. It's good to want to improve your skills and talents.

But what I've seen is that people base their self-worth by the results they get in a competition. I've fallen prey to this stupidity too.
I used to feel so insignificant whenever I lost and felt superior to everyone whenever I won.

Some other lame-os used to cheat to make it on the top. And that just makes us feel worse about our honest failures.

This is life. This concept of winners and losers is so uncertain. The situation can change overnight sometimes. All it takes is one step, one chance or one right move....and? You've made it big.

Especially when we lose, we claim the winners had an unfair advantage. And you know what? That could be true.
People of all kinds have different things holding us back or giving us privileges in various ways that do make tests seem so unjust. But that's a reality we need to understand, there's no one platform in which we're all the same no matter how much we try. (though it's a great ambition)
Starting from the bottom is different for everyone. So is how easy or difficult it is for individuals to achieve the same task.

Though that even isn't the attitude we're supposed to have in a competition.
Competitions propels us to higher levels of our abilities. It gives us the motivation to do better. Having good competitors makes us feel like working harder. It's fine to take competitions seriously but not so seriously that you get extremely stressed out and forget everyone participating are humans... Flawed yet amazing, hidden with unknown potential and greatness.
Everything isn't a competition.

Like, yeah, you are going to eventually going to get better at what you do regardless. But there's something about competing with others that pushes the rate at which you grow.
It's sort of like a catalyst.
But it can only be a catalyst if you see it that way.

Don't let your success or failure determine your worth. You are precious regardless.

Stuck in the middle

Few years back, I wanted to feel special so I bought a book on sale called, "Are you one in a million? - Peter Hewkin".

Turns out the book's numbers are based in UK.
And guess where live? India. 
Great. Just great.

Good thing it was on sale.

Anyway, this rather funny incident where I made a fool of myself, made me start observing probability and uniqueness. My observations over the years, led me to realize something really strange...

It's about how everyone (including me) want to be in life. 
We want to be unique, special and important when it comes to cool qualities or success.
But we don't want to be unique when it comes to disasters and chronic diseases. 
For example, Person A wants to be unique enough to top the class but not be unique enough to get a rare incurable disease.
Get it now?

Isn't that strange?
Though the reason is probably our human nature. We love to avoid trouble and aspire for good things of life.
Maybe life's about finding a balance, being somewhere in between. 
I'm pretty average.
And that may just be a good thing.

The victory in failing

The first test I failed was in school. The subject was Marathi (I mean, of course).

That wasn't the last time I failed a test though.

My classmates look at me right now and probably can't imagine me ever failing in anything academic. But the truth was very different. I too have my weaknesses. And Marathi was that one subject that repeatedly brought my total percentage/grade down.

I eventually got immunized from thinking failure was the end of me. My teachers scoldings mostly felt like nothing because I knew how hard I tried. I knew it was my best. If my best wasn't good enough then sorry, but my feelings aren't hurt by your unrealistic perception of me as lazy, irresponsible or stupid. Cause I'm none of those things and I can try harder next time. 
There's always a next time for most things in life. 

Many teachers make us feel like it's a now-or-never sort of thing. 
Rubbish. 
Though it would be easier to finish things off quickly once given the opportunity to. 

Later I found out, that teacher just had a big problem at letting me pass her subjects. There are many such teachers who take it badly when a student can't do well in their subject. They scream at the child, not realizing that their teaching methods could be at fault.

I mean, the harsher reality is on the students, who at a young age get screamed at for not understanding a teacher's faulty method of teaching. It's the student who gets punished for not scoring well and not getting good marks. It's the student that's not chosen by colleges and universities if they don't meet score requirements cause they had bad teachers. Scoring less and making mistakes are just part of learning. 

What punishments do teachers get for not teaching well? Their salaries are given whether or not the student learns. 

By my last year in school, when I got to know I failed biology in the first term's school exams...all I thought was "Okay, I'll do better next time". And that was that. No tears, no sadness...in fact I laughed cause I liked the subject of biology and it felt funny cause I had passed Marathi that time. 

Some teachers strongly believe screaming at their students will improve their performance...calling them all sorts of names other than who they really are. For some twisted reason they imagine doing this will give students more confidence for their exam writing skills. Very self-defeating methods by teachers.

Don't believe the mean things teachers call you, dear students.

Time and experience taught me that an exam result need not define your worth. All it says is your ability to understand certain concepts in the curriculum and being able to write that out on paper at that particular time...nothing more than that, nothing less.

Students tend to take it too seriously. Because we're brain-washed to believe this is all there is to life. That result paper is the prophecy set for me until the ends of time...that this will follow me as a ghost...the ghost of failure and regret. 

But it's not true. 

You can always do better in the future, no matter how much or how badly you failed. 

Even if it's the same subject, over and over. You never start again from the bottom. When you do things again and again, the knowledge and experience you learnt in your previous failure acts as the foundation to help you reach new heights. You will succeed....Eventually. 

The young pearl who took her failed biology paper very well, topped the same subject in the next school term and who knows...so can you.  

Beyond the illusion

(Continuation of the previous post)

So often I come across people who challenge the stereotypes of their groups' colour, religion, country, etc by being different from what is spoken about their groups. And I laugh at my stupidity....I laugh at my ignorance. Then? I enjoy the person beyond my prejudices.

It's tough and it takes courage, to see people as they are...not how we want to think they are.

Evil isn't dark and good isn't white.
Evil can be beautiful...tempting...fair skinned....bright. But evil hurts. It takes more than what is offered to it. It forces...it demands...it destroys.

Good can be ugly...scary...dark...repulsive. But good restores. It heals. It's grateful. It gives. It loves...it comforts....it accepts.

It's the illusion set before us, to go by what we see.
Yes, our sight does give us clues to the unseen. But most of reality still remains unseen....unknown.
For the good doesn't boast and evil likes to spread rumours.

I feel obliged to say that inner beauty is hidden. It's not. Not always, at least.

Beauty oozes out, no matter how much you try to keep it hidden.
What is this beauty I speak about so fondly?
Beauty is kindness. And kindness knows no limits.
Kindness doesn't stage a good act like a performance. It just looks for ways to help the other.
It sees beyond the illusions that people mask themselves into. It looks into the person and touches their heart...no matter how bad their works are.

Kindness purifies the soul. And there's a little of it in everyone of us...in equal measure. Everyone has the choice to listen to the voice of kindness... people of all races, colours, occupations, age, gender...there's kindness in you.
Do you want to believe in the voice of truth? Or do you want to believe the lie of the illusion around you?

All the (skin) colours under the sun

I'm increasingly becoming more aware of the boundaries and limitations the people before me have established. And I'm becoming more and more annoyed of these boundaries.

One such boundary is about skin colours.
I've always been really insecure of my skin colour...since I'm brown in a world where paler skin coloured people are almost worshiped while darker people are seen as untrustworthy sketchy people.

I've been really self-conscious about my colour as a kid. Elders would discuss how tan I'd get playing in the sun. So? I stopped. Used all the fairness creams....used an umbrella as shield from the fierce sun and wanted to get fairer...never satisfied with the results I got. 
Overtime I gave up this high standard because it lacked sense to try so hard for something that's not meant to happen. Especially since what I was trying to change was part of who I am.

Few months back I learnt about how the exposure of sunlight causes human skin to create a sort of defense against what could potentially cause harm to the body. 
So if you're light or dark skinned.....it's a way you and your ancestors survived the problems that could arise with differences in the sun exposure in your region.  


I really don't understand people who talk nonsense about people with darker skin tones. It's so immature and irrational. 
I find it immature when people make fun of others for who they are and what they like. 

A few years after I got over my obsession about making my skin fairer...I found to see that the world was more beautiful when I noticed and saw all the colours. I wasn't only focusing my attention on one specific colour, because now that I really see...I find everything beautiful.

So ask yourself today...
Who's making me see the world in black and white?
Who's stopping me to see all the wonderful colours in between?
Because I like the variety of beauty I see when I look at everyone.....because everyone's beautiful.

Everyone's beautiful in their own colour.

(Theme will be continued in the next post)

Learning Languages

Living in a country like India, you know the diversity in languages is evident when you travel and you hear someone have a conversation in Gujarati, someone reading in Hindi, while someone else asks directions in Marathi. And these are just the few. 
There's English, Konkani, Bengali, Arabic, Punjabi and Malayalam too. (Others too)

You don't have to read about the variety of languages in India in a school textbook to know it. It exists all around us. 

Thus, language both scares me and inspires me to learn more. 
It scares me as it comes as a barrier when I talk to strangers and so I get really anxious when someone seems to approach me to ask a question of some sort. Because I'm scared I won't understand their language. 

It isn't even that I don't speak or know any other language other than English. 
The languages I know in descending order of fluency are...
1) English - This being my first language, I can read, write and speak with it.
2) Hindi - This language I eventually learnt with fluency levels lower than English. But trust me when I tell you this, when I speak Hindi, I speak it with pride for my country. I can read, write and speak it at a slower pace than English.
3) French - A language I hated in school but after a short break, in college, a new kind of passion was kindled in me towards the language. I can read, write and speak (1-3 words at a time) in this language. 
4) Konkani - This is supposed to be my mother language but I never learnt it. I can only understand when people speak in Konkani. Can't really read, write or speak it.  


Language really fascinates me. When you learn a language, you automatically connect to the people living with that language. And that's quite beautiful. I would really enjoy the company of linguistically diverse friends. (I like diversity in my friendship circles in general actually.)
And so, it inspires me to learn more languages and improve my fluency in the languages I already know. 

In the future, I want to learn Marathi (properly) Japanese, Konkani and Mandarin. Let's see. The list may change as per my interests, time available, easy accessibility of language materials and many other factors.

Languages are something to be proud of. It's an integral part of culture without which we won't have any of the amazing lives we have and share with one another. 

I am even using language right now to communicate this piece of information to you...I know, so cool (and natural that we don't even realize how awesome it is in our daily lives or at least not always.)

Reading and Learning

Studying. One student's escape and the others reason to want to escape.
It truly is strange how I find learning so interesting. Well, at least the topics I like or am curious about...not all.
Many of my classmates tell me how sick and tired they are just thinking about studying, but me on the other hand....I usually can't relate!
The reason behind this is probably the fact I really enjoy studying and I don't think of it as a burden. Or maybe it's because I'm so used to escaping reality into a world of books...so now, that liking has been generalized with all related aspects.

Many of my classmates think of me as a total book-worm or a boring uninteresting person or a nerd because I like reading and I am super ambitious when it comes to learning different topics of my liking.
But it's fine.

I don't judge them cause I realize that everyone has their own way of escaping from reality. There's no fixed way or the only way to do so.

I've honestly not always loved reading or learning.
I used to like playing outside in the sun, in the grass, with people who shared the same interest.
But once I started reading, (books without pictures, excuse you!) I totally liked the way I could imagine and visualize the things I read and the loved the sensation of being in a different dimension. And also the way I'd get surprised when I came back to reality and realized that all I was imagining, was in my mind. Similar to the experience of a thought train I guess.

Learning and reading is fun. They go hand in hand...(in many cases)
I've learnt a lot, thanks to the many books and articles I've read and I really would love to thank the authors who put in so much effort to share their knowledge and experiences with such people like me! 

Body insecurities (Part 1)

I recently cut my hair short. I'm not quite sure what the hairstyle is called exactly.....but it's pretty cool. I like it.

I went to visit my relatives a few days ago and...as expected...they weren't too fond of it. Some of them liked it a lot.

I mean... I honestly don't get it. If someone likes something about themselves...they bring them to the dirt. 

I'm pretty sure everyone has their own insecurities. But I have come to accept mine. 

People who haven't accepted their own insecurities tend to display it outwardly on other people by criticizing them. 

Now,  I know...it shouldn't bother me if I know the cause behind their behavior. But honestly? It does. People who have a habit of endless criticism, leave a trail of hurt everywhere they go.


Before when I used to let criticism get to my head, it used to control me. 

You see, I've always been skinny as a kid. And even now...being a teen...I still am skinny.

So I used to get a lot of comments like "Eat well" and "You like a dry fish" and "Don't diet or starve yourself".

These things used to really hurt me at first...even though I used eat my portion of food properly.
I used to never diet. I used eat when I was bored. But my metabolism was so strong so I used to still appear skinny.

My insecurities led me to over-eating, stress-eating....while trying all kinds of weird tricks and consumption of whey proteins and powders that guaranteed weight gain.
I even tried hogging on junk food to get me to gain weight.
I tried exercising as well to boost my appetite.

But nothing worked.

And you know what I did after all that trying??

I gave up. I accepted myself for what it was and I made peace with my body.

It's been a rough ride, and I know my body has done and been through much. I'm proud of my body. Because it proved to me...not them...that yeah, I am healthy!   

Even though according to my BMI...I'm supposed to be underweight...I know in my busy life...my body has almost never come in my way to leading my lifestyle.

I travel a lot...I walk a lot...I sing a lot.

And my body co-ordinates and meets up to all my daily demands of stress and strain.

And so when I left my relatives house. I cut myself off their negative energy I was bombarded with while being there.

Because it's a different kind of happiness that comes from being happy in your own territory. That happiness they may never know. Unfortunately. 

We lack in Patience

The importance of patience didn't dawn to me until my focus was brought back from a long lecture for a second when my English Professor yelled "Patience" during the explanation of a chapter.

"Patience! Patience is very important in life!" I heard her shouting.

This short, probably unintentional phrase that she muttered might have been a pure coincidence but it clicked something in my mind that got me thinking.

I traveled back home in a gloomy face with a thought that disturbed me. I looked out of the bus window and saw some people fighting about each other's driving skills. They didn't have the patience to wait till the traffic signal allowed them the right of way. And so they inconvenienced everyone.

The world would've been so much more different if we all had patience.

Later that day, I went to the mall to buy some stationary and at the cashier, some people were fighting about the price of the products that they had just purchased. After I checked my bill and received my bag back from the luggage counter I saw another person loudly yelling at the customer care manager with a furious red face. I looked around at the reactions of the other customers around me, I looked at the scared hopeless staff in front of that person.

Maybe the world really would've been a better place if we had the love to be patient to each other.