Flowers For A Grave

We never did say goodbye.

That’s what gets to me. Everything about this feels wrong.

Especially the fact that I’m counting on this piece to tell you what I can’t bring myself to.

It’s ironic how it went from when I could hit you up with anything just a month ago to this blankness.

This gaping void that widens the more I consider crossing it.

 

Just a month. What ever did happen?

 

I did get busy.

I got as busy as I could to hide. Conveniently.

I needed the space to stop thinking about how I was betraying you.

If having feelings is a perfectly natural instinct that people cannot avoid, so must be not reciprocating.

And I can’t.

This shouldn’t have to be this hard. Read more

Just A Reality Check.

So I recently watched an animated movie after too much of a sabbatical from the world of animation and you know what? I totally loved the film- it had a mature story line, a classic plot twist, the underdog phenomenon and brilliant animation.

These attributes, however, confuse me when I remember I was watching a film meant for kids.

The movie was supposed to be for kids so why was I not impressed by the lightness, the colours, the magic of innocence and just the crazy simplicity of the story?

Because movies just aren’t made that way now. Especially for kids.

The big business model that films must be a part of to survive has inevitably caused an ageing for these supposedly innocent films- case in point- the Toy Story franchise and Inside Out- which obviously widens the demographic but presents such a characteristic, formula based film to impressive youngsters, I can’t help but sigh to myself.

 

Trust me when I say this isn’t good.

 

I think there’s already pressure to grow and be socially accepted without us promoting a certain kind of reality through mainstream film, media.

Is there any out for people to grow outside of society and its norms? I doubt.

Is there a reason why we really shouldn’t present formulated reality to kids? Yes, please change this rhetoric!?

Kids shouldn’t be led down your narrow field of experience nor be force fed beliefs that will ultimately fail them when they really need to call upon them.

 

Have you ever felt like life was getting too monotonous and totally unlike the excitement and good-frenzy that you associated with a good life? I did. I do. My friends do as well. My ultimate OMFG moment, when I realized nothing was interesting taught me just this- that life gets worse with expectation.

It sucks that we have to pick and choose among all of our life the moments that were fun and cool and forget the others because of the monotony and drudgery they would otherwise remind us of. This classification based on what a good life has to be- never normal and varying over a significant spectrum of emotions- leaves me so distraught because every single low I go through reinforces the belief in me that I have lost. Lost what? Who cares? It’s just the bitterness of failure that steeps my rational mind, because of one little setback- I can’t handle it.  

 

Boredom, paralysis, sadness are clear signs of failure, right?

I have to say yes because status quo decided that for me.

I have no real sense of reality because then I’d accept willingly the tasks I am assigned, I’d quietly sit out the days when I’m low as an unchained anchor and I’d know now, not to dream of perfection in life.

Balance- balance is all I can hope for because perfection is just too much of an ideal notion.

However we still hold on, clutching to the faint hopes that perfection will actually prevail someday, so it can restore our faith in our own beliefs- ones we can no longer trust but can’t find the strength to shake off.

Grow up, guys.  Let kids grow up normally, too (not with the sparkling barbie style glasses that promise endless parties and dancing and perfectly groomed gentlemen to fulfil her every whim).

Yearning for Self Reliance

It’s my personal experience that even though I’ve been an adult for a long time, I feel terribly incompetent to handle the typically adult facets of life. I still feel young and naive and very ignorant about most things.

I blame my parents. (It’s debatable actually.)

A ‘sheltered’ life comes at the cost of my total dependence on others- family and friends, sure- but it’s still a shame that I can’t drive anywhere, can’t pay any bills, can’t handle my own finances (though I have none, but that’s a minor concern), can’t be of any practical use in any emergency because I’m busy doing stuff for myself. This sucks because I see my cousins and friends be amazingly useful IRL and basically win at life while I’m stuck typing meaningless rants and figuring out what I can be good at, maybe.

It’s not just being of use, but the self reliance that obviously results from having skills that help you survive that makes me jealous. Deeply jealous.

Self reliance is such an important factor in taking decisions I would kill to have any at all. I’m not exaggerating when I say I have none, because I don’t have what it takes to survive! I’ve never been involved in paperwork, I’ve never cooked basic food, I’ve never driven myself anywhere, I’ve never been shopping for the ‘essentials’(because it seems boring), I’ve never even thought of supporting myself financially before this. In any other society but ours, I’d have failed in survival itself- not counting how I can’t handle weather and myself and studying- but here it’s only an added bonus that I can live independently. I know this seems like a weird wish because I’m cribbing about not having paid bills and done the dishes and worked a day in my life but this is seriously something that bothers me.

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My Affinity For Lists

I’ve grown to like making one for everything and now it’s a strange habit that eases my life out in many ways but I cannot imagine why it attracts my fancy so much, given that I’m a very disorganized and confused person inherently.

I’m neither neat nor very good at planning but now my life is all about making to do lists and jotting literally anything down in a bullet journal.

I have this very strange habit of writing down all sorts of tasks in my lists- from tidying my desk, making my bed to getting an amazing grade point on the same list usually and just checking off the easy tasks in a day gives me so much energy and validation that I can really imagine doing all sorts of tougher, out of reach tasks too. It’s working out well for me but there’s got to be some sort of limit as to how much these lists have become my life. From casually referring to the to dos of the day to living by my planner (except it’s a cheap diary because someone pointed out to me that spending a thousand bucks on a planner was sheer madness and I realized I was slowly but surely going down a slippery slope), there’s a little thing called spontaneity that seems to have edged out of my life because I didn’t list it out as something I wanted my life to be about and that’s okay because I’m looking for order and discipline.

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How NOT to get into a Premier Institution Of Your Nation

 

In all my years of existence, the Indian dream is one I’ve failed and whether or not I know you, you are allowed to judge me based on that fact. The Indian Dream, if you are blissfully oblivious, is the fact that most successful and lucrative careers in India come out of incubation centres known as IITs (which more often than not requires traumatic, painful maternity wards for the actual birth) so every parent wishes for his children the success that going to an IIT entitles them to. There’s a whole thriving and cut throat industry for entry into these incubation centres which creates a suitable environment for the foetus to grow strong (if you’re already healthy and preferably already crawling and talking) and provide little to no care to the foetus that may have some complications in the birthing process, leaving them weaker and flailing when they need to enter the competition for the incubators.

Bad, uncomfortable analogies aside, let me tell you how to NOT get into an IIT because if anything, I learned from the coaching centre I chose to go to and how I spent the past 2 years of my life, it’s this.

 

  1. GET FREAKED OUT BY THE LEVEL OF COMPETITION BEFORE YOU EVEN BEGIN TO LEARN

  This is the most frightening aspect of the competition into the IITs. I remember the first day I went for coaching, there was group of guys in the last benches that would answer questions based on concepts I had never heard of before in my life- before the question was posed to the class completely. I was impressed at first but this began to happen in every single class for every single subject (it got so annoying I can’t even find it funny to date how desperate they were to show off) and this kept me from even trying to understand some concepts because I was disheartened within a single month of the coaching. I had only 23 months left to fail. Yay! Read more

On (Being A Part Of Organising) Events

 

Now, all my life, I’ve felt somewhat inadequate by myself and somehow being part of something bigger than me and disjoint from my own selfishness gives me a sense of purpose I haven’t felt otherwise.

It’s not to say that I was instrumental to any events till date, I was but a mere volunteer (for both in the past week), assisting as my skills and eagerness would allow me to but being just an inconsequential part in the larger scheme of the event itself was a very freeing experience for me.

It’s a weird feeling, because I myself am ambitious in most situations, to be able to be content with a nameless role in teams where I am just the bottom most rung and one among many nameless volunteers like me, unrecognisable from one another because of the work we do. I, however, was content- more so than when I’m chasing after something for my own personal benefit- and that came to me as the best surprise this year.

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On My Need To Disconnect

 

 

I couldn’t bring myself to do this, but I know I must. There’s a fine line between using technology and being dependent on it (I know because I’m studying technology (apparently) and there’s no question of confusion in that respect because I specifically use technology to get me a degree) and I crossed that fine line so many times it’s a Robin Thicke song now (Blurred Lines, icymi (in case you missed it, icymi)).

I know it’s ironic that I’m talking about disconnection on a wired platform but, well, I’m writing this for myself and I have no readership, so what the hell. Recently, well, more recently than ever, I’ve been so glued to my devices that I can’t imagine my day without them. The first thing I do in the morning, after untangling myself from a slew of wires, is check my phone because that’s something that demands my attention more than, maybe the simple fact of being alive does each morning.

My high key addiction to technology, I do accept. The first step to recovery is, after all, accepting that there’s a problem right? (I’m not even sure if that’s legitimate).

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