Category: Thoughts

What Does The Label Read ?

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Remember walking into a store and looking around when you find the perfect pair of shoes? You pick it up, turn it around and read the label. You put it back down because it’s way too expensive. You mentally think it needs to be cheaper but that does not mean you suddenly think the shoes are ugly. They’re still perfect but just not what you would choose for yourself. So you walk away. You don’t stand there and scream. You don’t rally outside the store. You don’t hold placards and demand a law against the price. You definitely don’t send the store owner hate mails and death threats.

There was this couple. They met in high school. Shared an apartment in college. A few years after graduation, they got engaged. The guy got diagnosed with cancer shortly after. They stuck together through it and after he’d won the battle, they got married. They couldn’t have a kid, so they adopted one. Their love story has inspired many in their town. It was the kind of love we dream of. The kind we read of. The big, fancy, whole-hearted love that makes your heart melt. But that love came with a label – Gay.

He was perfect. I was at a point in my life where I didn’t really want to be caught in a relationship. So was he. We were compatible and he could have very well been The One. But every time we talked I wanted him to say the word. I kept thinking ‘What will the world say about me if he didn’t give me that title? Won’t they judge me?’ I ruined what could have been an incredible thing by waiting for a label – Girlfriend.

He hit her everyday. He abused her. Physically. Mentally. She was in pain all day, everyday. But she tried to make it work. She believed she can change him. For years she put up with trauma while hoping that her life will get better. One fine day, she couldn’t take it anymore. She made the decision to leave. She wanted a brand new start. But people looked down on her. Guys thought twice before dating her. They didn’t know her story. They just knew the label – Divorcee.

He knew who he was. He’s known it since the day he was born. His parents had difficulty accepting him. He struggled as he grew up. He tried to get society to accept him for who he was. A society that looked at his body and not his mind. A society that was confused because he didn’t look the part he was playing. So they tried to convince him. To change him. When they couldn’t, they simply gave him a label – Transgender.

Ugly. Pretty. Hindu. Muslim. American. Indian. Fat. Thin. Well-dressed. Shabby.

We are surrounded by labels. We label every person we see on the street. We label our friends, our relatives. Some of us have said to ourselves, “I don’t care for the label. I just want to be.” But peer pressure changes that. Social standards gives us the need to be labelled.

I knew a girl who captioned her wedding picture – “I’m a wife !” Ok.. So what ?! Did you love him any less yesterday? Do you now plan to wear sweatpants for the rest of your life?

I get it when someone says “We’re married !” It is a beautiful thing. I do believe a relationship changes after marriage. It is somehow more special in an unexplainable way. But it bothers me when the first thing someone wants to flaunt about it is the label.

If you’ve been around for a while, you know that I very strongly believe “Love is love.” Have you seen certain people at a wedding – they cry when they hear the vows? When the rings are exchanged? When the promises are made? Have you seen the exact same person stand out on the street and chant “Say no to homo” ? So what were the tears of joy at the wedding for? The bride’s dress? The groom’s tux? The flower girl’s hair? If it was at the sight of true love, then why does it have to change with the label?

Every war has two sides. Both sides with children and elderly. But we don’t see that. We don’t think “That child is just like any other child.” We just go with the label. What if we stopped doing that? What if we took that label away?

When you disagree with the label you see at the store, you walk away. Why can’t you do that with people? So he’s fat. She’s black. They’re gay. Why does that change the way you look at that person? And if we are so desperate to put a label for every person we see on the street, here’s the easiest one – Human Being. Everyone deserves to be treated the same way. Every love deserves a chance. Every darkness deserves a dawn. And if you still feel an undying need to judge someone and label them, I advise you to start with the person in the mirror.

So go on. Go stare at the mirror. Look deep into their eyes. Feel their emotions. Understand their love. Remember their path. And while you’re at it, tell me – What does the label read ?

Every Birthday A New Beginning ?

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The only thing worse than a New Year’s resolution is a Birthday resolution.

We have all faced the Moment of Truth – The ‘What am I doing with my life’ moment – when you compare where you wanted to be with where you are and then make a whole bunch of resolutions for the year ahead that you know deep inside your heart you will not follow.

“You’re a year older now. You have to be more responsible.” Every time I hear that, I feel the need to reply “I’m only a day older than I was yesterday. No hurry here.” But nobody ever thinks of it in quite that manner. It’s always a year older.

I had goals. A list of things to do before I turned 21. I’m 22 now and I’ve done close to nothing on that list. That does not mean I’ve failed. It simply means my priorities have changed. It means that I’ve learnt to differentiate between my wants and my needs; my desires and my dreams.

Someone called me on my birthday and asked, “So, what have you done with 22 years?” To her I said, “Nothing.” But then I asked myself that question – What have I done in 22 years?

We all have answers to such questions. Simple ones. There are people that have become internet sensations. There are the musicians with Grammy nominations. The ones that almost cured cancer. So what have I done?

The most important thing to realize when you ask yourself this question is that you don’t have to win a Grammy to prove a point. For some of us, getting through the day is a form of success. The first five years of my life, I learnt to behave like a human – it is an achievement when you realize the world is now called a concrete jungle. I’m not an animal. I’m human and I behave like one.

The second five years of my life, I understood the dynamics and working of a dysfunctional family. The third five years of my life I made mistakes that arose from being a rebellious teenager. The next five I spent making amends and fixing the relationships I’d damaged during the previous five. And now..

The fifth five – 20 to 25 – I am figuring out who I am. I am learning to accept myself no matter what the world says. I may not be an internet sensation, I may not be the next Beyonce and I sure as hell ain’t curing cancer. I’m not going to find my knight in shining armor and you will not see my name on T.I.M.E’s 100 most inspiring list. But I have achieved something in 22 years that many people I know live a lifetime not knowing – I get to wake up in the morning, look at myself in the mirror and smile.

Do you remember the days when our teachers used to give us a deadline for homework? Kids are supposed to love everything in life. But I don’t remember the last time a kid loved a deadline. What makes you think it changes when you grow up? How can you set a deadline for your life and expect to follow it when you can’t remember the last time you wanted to?

Most of us have the privilege of not knowing when we die just so we don’t live hating life. So why do we insist on doing this to ourselves year after year?

You will always be older than you were. But you will never be younger than you are. So maybe it’s time to stop making lists. And just live.

My birthday is not a new beginning. My lists no longer exist. I refuse to force myself to grow up and mature into a world that calls itself a concrete jungle. So instead of setting a deadline, let me make a confession :

I am a 22-year-old adult that likes scribbling on walls, hates chocolates, enjoys dressing up, loves Barbie dolls, has exactly 11 best friends and is the laziest person I know. My achievement is my ability to put up with all the crap the world gives me because they do not understand how someone can be happy being who they are and not give into what the society believes a 22-year-old should be like. My success is not defined by the awards in my room. It is defined by the people that love me for who I am. So it’s sappy and cheesy. But given the choice, I would pick The Notebook over Jurassic Park any day !

The Coincidental 22

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Do you believe in fate? Do you believe that everything around us happens for a reason and nothing is random? Do you believe in a predestined future? Or would you rather believe in coincidence?

Tomorrow, the 22nd of September, marks my 22nd birthday. “22 on 22” has been yet another reason for excitement this year. I have noticed this pattern before and this year has been no different. Everything in my life happens on a 22.

I was born on 22. My first day of pre-school was on 22. My first day of high school in the US was on September 22. My first day at university was August 22. There are so many significant days in my life that are all 22. Does it even come as a surprise that my recent song addiction is Taylor Swift’s 22?!

It’s funny how some things in our lives are too detailed to be coincidental but too irrelevant to be destiny. So many significant moments began on the 22nd. But not all of them ended well. I did enjoy pre-school and kindergarten, but I grew up to hate school. My experience as a high school student in the US was so bad (partly my fault) and I never would revisit it again. I never completed university even though I loved every part of it. So is this a sign that I should steer clear of anything that has to do with 22?

But then again, I was born on a 22.

When I decided that this year my birthday will be low-key and family only, my friend decided to bunk work and spend the day with me because he thought some thing had to be out of the ordinary that day. Why? What makes me so special? Why should the day I was born be out of the ordinary?

I answered that question in a playful way by saying “Oh you know, I blessed this Earth with my incredible presence on that day. So it ought to be celebrated !” You can imagine my father’s face fill with sarcasm right about now. But my grandmother went ahead and said, “You’re right. You are an incredible presence and you have given me such incredible moments in my life. Your birthday must be made special.”

Ever wonder why out of all the people in the world – the uptight neighbor, the lonely rich kid, the regretful juvenile, the girl on 16 and pregnant, Miley Cyrus – you were born into this particular family, in this city, with the friends you have around you? You have changed their lives whether you acknowledge it or not. Was it predestined? Were they meant to tread a different path but some power of the Universe chose to mix them with you? Or was it just a random pick? A drifted coincidence that nobody thinks twice about?

Coincidence by Wikipedia – A coincidence (often stated as a mere coincidence) is a collection of two or more events or conditions, closely related by time, space, form, or other associations which appear unlikely to bear a relationship as either cause to effect or effects of a shared cause, within the observer’s or observers’ understanding of what cause can produce what effects.

So it is a coincidence that everything in my life is connected to 22? That MY LIFE began on a 22?

Have you ever met someone and thought to yourself ‘we were meant to meet at that exact time so you could be here at this point in my life’ ? Not necessarily a lover. Was it predestined that you met them when you did or was it a mere coincidence that you happened to just bump into each other on that day or click on the other’s profile on a social networking site randomly?

Tomorrow marks the beginning of an entire year of 22. Last year, I couldn’t have written about this. I didn’t have a blog, a platform to express my thoughts on the 22’s of my life. Is it a coincidence that I have it now? At 22?

When we think about it, there are so many simple moments – the day we meet our best friend, our first trip alone, the restaurant you go to, the family you were born into, the love of your life – there is always the question – destiny? Or coincidence?

Was it because you were meant to meet these people? Was it because you were at the right place at the right time? Or was it simply a predestined coincidence?

Death, The Inevitable End

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9/11 was this past week. I don’t live in that country anymore and I was quite young to understand what was happening when it did. But since then I’ve heard many different versions of what went down on that tragic day. I only took one thing from the dozens of stories I heard – innocent people died for the personal gain of someone else. I don’t care who the person behind it was. It only matters how many family members were made to suffer because of it.

911

I believe there are two kinds of death. The one that comes naturally and the ones that arrives when disaster strikes. But when someone dies, the world doesn’t differentiate it like that. How many times have you heard someone say, ‘Good riddance. She/he was such a horrible human being” ? Death in the human mind is always differentiated in two ways – the kind hearted person’s oh-so-soon passing; the ill hearted person’s long overdue riddance.

I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this before – Death plays a huge part in my mind. For a fairytale believer, death is probably a more commonly occurring thought process than love because love doesn’t happen to everyone. Some people live their entire lives not knowing what it feels like to be loved unconditionally and passionately. But even to them, death is inevitable. It cannot be pushed away. It cannot be erased. This quote is simply a hint at just how much the world tries to make it go away :

“The walls of hospitals have heard more prayers than the walls of churches.”

But it is the undeniable truth. And I’m not as afraid as I should be. For it is the only thing in life that is certain. It has to come some day and I will accept it when it does.

Yet everyday, I wake up in fear of who around me is still safe from it. When the phone rings, my heart skips a beat and I have to check in on everyone to know my family is where it’s supposed to be. Here. With me.

A friend of mine passed away a few months ago. This past week he’s been on my mind constantly. I see someone with a mohawk and think “Oh look ! He’s here !” And then I remind myself, “That cannot be him. He’s dead.” He was a nice guy. Quite young too. His mother was orphaned for he was the last family she had left. I hate to imagine how many mothers were orphaned on 9/11. How many kids were orphaned. Engagements broken, weddings stopped, successful marriages turned single parents.

Then again, just how many of those people were thought of as “Good riddance” ?!

“We understand death for the first time when he puts his hand upon one whom we love.”

– Mad. De Stael

It’s so easy to talk about it from a distance. It’s so easy to dissect the process. It’s so easy to say, “Life has to go on..” And it is definitely easy to say “Good riddance.” But the ones that lose the person they love – disastrous or natural, sickness or an accident – to them, Death is but a ghost that continues to live in them and haunt them everyday for as long as they live. It doesn’t matter if the dead was innocent, arrogant, ruthless or stupid, the ones that get to live never really get to live.

Ever wonder why Disney movies always have parents that die early in the story or are already dead? Especially the mother?

Disney Princess

Walt Disney’s mother died in a fire accident in the house he bought for her. It’s suggested that it may be why the Disney movies don’t have a significant mother character in them.

How many days would he have spent thinking to himself “Wish it had been me” ? You and I may think of 9/11 once a year, but to those families that lost someone they loved, every single day they have lived since the life altering disaster is 9/11. How many times do you think they would have thought to themselves, “Should have been me” ?

I say this now and I will say this always. I will always rather it be me than anyone I hold dear to my heart.

There’s no moral to this post. There’s no inspiring message. Just a passing thought from me to you – Death has to come and it will. To you, to me and to every living being on this planet. It comes to the good guys and the bad. Wouldn’t it be easier if we didn’t all kill each other and just spent whatever little time we have on this beautiful planet laughing away and spreading love?

In memory of every lost loved one. ❤

(Images courtesy : Google)

Great Expectations : The Body Issue

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Screen Shot 2014-09-06 at 12.09.37 PM

I was going through Freshly Pressed when I came across a blog about fashion for fat women. Or rather, the lack of it. I’ll admit I’m no size zero. I never want to be either. But I cannot begin to explain the number of times I’ve heard someone say to me, “Lose the weight. It’s unhealthy;  you’ll look pretty if you do.”

I recently sat down with someone who has been cajoling me to lose weight for years and I explained to her, “I understand you have a problem with my body and even though it makes no sense, I accept that you’re not very happy with it. But here’s the thing – I’m ok being me. I do NOT feel the need to lose weight. This is who I am, I can accept it and maybe it’s time for you to do so too.”

She didn’t understand what the heck I was saying. Because – How can someone be ok with being fat?! With not being a size 0-5? I mean, that’s just unhealthy and awkward and not nice to look at.

Now, I can agree that being FAT is unhealthy. I emphasize that word because it is not a disgrace to use it. But being skinny isn’t exactly a celebration. Size zero used to be what is now a size 4. Or maybe even a 6. The concept of thin is no longer thin but just bones. There was a time when the model walking the ramp looked absolutely stunning. Now they all look sick. So why is the world not looking at it the other way around? Instead of pointing at heavier women and asking them to lose weight, why not tell the skinny models to gain a few pounds? Ask them to stop giving young girls an unrealistic vision of beauty? Why does the cover girl have a photoshopped thigh gap? Why do we still pay to read about her?

I want you to imagine the first day of high school as a fat kid. Someone who’s used to being who she is. Someone who loves herself. Walks into the world where other girls her age start dating and wearing make-up. She walks into the exact same store her classmates shop from, but she can’t find anything in her size that doesn’t look like something her mother would wear. So she has to wear a baggy sweater and weird looking pants and hang her head when her best friend ditches her out of embarrassment. She gets bullied, pushed into lockers, mocked behind her back – I assure you these are the kids that end up with eating disorders or mental issues that make them want to hurt themselves. The confident girl that held her head high, at the end of four years, walks with her shoulders slouched, hiding her face in shame. A shame we as a society allowed to be thrust upon her. Because someone somewhere did not realize that a size ten girl would love to be just as fashionable as a size 1 girl.

The little things matter no matter what size we are. A therapist once asked me, “If there is a job interview with two eligible finalists, do you think they would pick the fat one or the skinny one? You have to lose weight, sweetheart.” That ‘sweetheart’ made no sense because I’d just lost all hope of a bright future.

There are ways to handle situations. Calling someone fat does not make them want to become thin. It makes them want to vanish. You’re worried about their health? Talk to them about eating healthy – not losing weight. Never make someone feel ugly – always remember everyone’s concept of beauty is different. For all you know, that person might just be the nicest one you’ll ever meet.

This is not a social issue or a health topic. This is about someone’s emotions. During 4th grade, my friend and I bought similar outfits. We wore it to school on the same day. A kid I didn’t even know walked up to me and said, “It looks better on her. She’s thin. You should wear something that doesn’t make you look so ugly.” I will never forget that moment in my life. I felt hurt, upset and disappointed with myself. Today, I love and accept who I am. I know that the rude comment the kid passed didn’t speak of my flaws. It spoke of his and how he was raised to be mannerless and disrespectful. But that little girl who wore her favorite blue dress to school will never forget the day a stranger called her ugly.

From fancy clothes to seats on buses and the world of dating, a fat person is always an outcast. Mocking them, bringing them down and telling them they’re ugly is not the way to show you care. Do we even have to talk about the number of people that turn to medication and have complications because of social and peer pressure?! Talk to them, learn how they feel. If they honestly feel comfortable with who they are, let them be.

And to the person on the receiving end,

Never let someone bully you for who you are or how you look. While I will advise you to eat healthy, I will also assure you, that size zero girl on the cover of a fashion magazine? That’s half sick and half photoshop. It’s a camouflage created by an industry that is filled with hypocrites and head weighted arrogant designers that do not believe a size 15 can pull of a halter – low dip – neckline just as well as the skinny one, if not better. Never give into someone else’s great expectation. Love yourself.

“Because if you don’t, then who will, sweetie?”

– Marilyn Monroe

 

A Good Deed – No Return Policy

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A long time ago my father told me a story about people who give to others. I was inspired and for my birthday, I gave sweets and food to the homeless. It was something I felt so good about for years. And then I stumbled upon Season 5 Episode 4 of F.R.I.EN.D.S. In that episode, “Evil Genius” Joey Tribbiani makes a general assumption / statement –

“There is no unselfish good deed. Selfless good deeds don’t exist.”

Phoebe spends the entire episode trying to prove him wrong and fails, miserably. Now I can begin to argue about how a mother cares for her child selflessly or how a dog loves his owner selflessly. But I’d like to take this statement away from people bound to you by love.

No matter what good deed you do, you almost always benefit from it. It doesn’t have to be in the form of a top of the line Porsche or a penthouse over looking the skyline in New York City. It is that moment when you’re sitting by yourself at home, reflecting at memories and you smile because you feel good or happy about something you did for someone. That is when you’ve reaped all benefits of your good deed and it stops being unselfish.

I wanted to prove this wrong. Maybe, just maybe, there was a good deed with nothing to offer in return. So I spent a very long time trying to come up with one thing that would make an unselfish good deed. Donating clothes and food, helping people stuck in disasters, helping the elderly – no matter what I came up with, I always felt good about it. Even if I tried not to. So what is a good deed? 

I remembered a quote my father told me when I was a child, “A good deed is not donating $1 out of your $1 Million. It’s taking $10 for your own needs and giving away the rest for others’ needs. That’s when you’ve done a genuine good deed.” Is that it? Giving away everything you have and keeping just enough for your needs? 

But needs differ with every person. So what if I want $1 Million to fit my needs? Then is it a good deed if I don’t donate anything at all? Or am I just unbelievably selfish because seriously, do you know what someone in the slums in my city could do with $100 ?! Let alone a million !

But then, there are Gurus. Saints. They give away knowledge, blessings and good fortune without expecting anything. They don’t feel good about it nor do they wish they could have kept it for themselves. So should one turn into something like that to be able to do a good deed without getting something in return? Let’s be honest, that’s not going to happen in the near future. So what is it then?

After watching that episode, for a while there, I gave up on good deeds. I mean, if anything good is automatically selfish, why bother?! The last thing I want is to think of myself as a selfish person. 

I still remember the day I found a person that did something so unselfish and yet so good. It was raining cats and dogs and I was standing outside of university waiting for the shuttle when a woman in her mid-40’s suddenly held an umbrella above my head. She was getting drenched and still she tried to keep me dry. When I tried to explain to her how unfair it all was, she simply said “I don’t go to work. I can get sick. You have to come to school. You have to stay healthy. Keep your laptop safe. It’s ok. Your shuttle will be here soon and then I’ll go.” My hands were full so I couldn’t even hold the umbrella and so she held it for me. She just stood there for almost five minutes waiting for me to leave and then she left. I cried about it when I got home. 

She didn’t know me. She didn’t know if I’d just gotten expelled and didn’t have school the next day. She didn’t know if my laptop was already broken and hence shoved in my bag. She didn’t love me like a mother. She wasn’t faithful to me like my dog. She just did what she felt like doing. And it was the most unselfish good deed I had ever witnessed. The most important thing about it was that she wasn’t going to rush home and post on Facebook – “Held umbrella for university girl. Got drenched. Worth it.”

There is an Arabic proverb that says – A good deed vanishes once spoken about. 

Because really,

You don’t have to give away your million dollars. You don’t have to donate all your clothes or your food. Just like you don’t have to boast to people you don’t even know that well on social networks about how you helped a blind man cross the street. Sometimes, a good deed is sharing an umbrella, giving away the extra cookie or maybe even commenting “get well soon” on a blog post. So Thank you for all such comments on my previous blog. 

And also, dear Joey Tribbiani,

There is no such thing as a selfish good deed. I’ve realized that doing a good deed – it’s not about me. A good deed doesn’t care whether I feel good about it or I feel shitty about it. A good deed in its true meaning is – even if I feel like absolute crap about it, I do it because someone else benefits from it. It makes someone else’s life a little better. And if along with it, my day is made, I say “oh well !” 🙂

 

 

Sick Again – Sketches and Photography

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Yet another sick week. I’ve tried to write but everything feels like crap and hence, the third post of this kind. We’ve done poems. We’ve done doodles. This time I thought I’ll add a few of my favorite sketches and photos I’ve done and taken over the past four years. So here goes :

Taken during a lecture at university. I was bored.

Unknown

I was having a terrible week and I needed to let out some steam. This was how I did it. Charles&Keith stilettos that I still cannot walk in. Seriously, how do women do it?!

ni

Taken while traveling. Best of both worlds ? I was closer to the clouds than land. This picture does not do justice to the view I had.

sky and land

This is the view one has from Board Walk at VivoCity of Sentosa right before dusk. If you ever visit Singapore, you have to try and go see this view. It is the most calming thing as the sun disappears behind the buildings and the lights are turned on.

sentosa 

Part of my attempts at learning to draw  human body parts. Being a self-taught artist, I am sort of proud of this.

eye

When I bought a sketchbook, I had no idea what I could do. This was done with the help of an online picture tutorial and this is also the second sketch I had ever done. This was the sketch that made me realize that if I keep practicing, I might be a decent artist. There began the journey that has led me to four sketchbooks, two cases of pencils and large amounts of practice.

lighter

I look for the word love everywhere I can. If I can’t find it, I make sure I leave a little love for someone else to find. One such attempt.

love sand

Last but not least, one of my favorite photos ever, taken on an iPhone 4 with natural lighting and no edits.

temple

Sorry you guys. I promise to make up for this with a kickass post next week.

Until then,

Sending a little love your way. 🙂 ❤

Trust in Time

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Timing of Your Life

Let me begin by saying, Happy Independence Day / Weekend to every Indian out there..

My grandmother was here to visit a few days ago and in the middle of a normal conversation, she suddenly turned to me and asked, “Do you want to get married? There’s a boy looking for a bride.” My face was probably a comic strip with shock, fear and absolute horror. “Of course not. I’m so young !”

Note : Born into a culture that encourages arranged marriages, I am blessed with parents who would happily nod their head should I bring a man I love and ask for permission. However, I choose to get into an arranged marriage for two very important reasons.

1. I honestly believe that my parents know me better than I do. Also, I’ve given them the checklist. So now it’s their problem you see..

2. There is a certain quality that I am drawn to in men. It is a quality every guy I fall for or date possesses. That specific quality is called – Mentally Unstable. I don’t think it is fair that my future generations should suffer for my bad choices.

Anyway..

Turns out, I’m not that young. In fact, my dad promises that this might just be the first of many such proposals that people from different social groups will bring to the table in the near future. This is also a warning – The timer is officially on.

And with every tick-tock I can feel the future, I dreamed about as a teenager, inch closer and closer. It is no longer “When I’m older, I will..” It’s along the lines of – “Now it’s time to..”

I can deny it, I can run from it or I can accept it. The one thing I cannot do is turn back time or make it stop.

We all have these lists of things-to-do. Not particularly a bucket list but just certain things we want to do before we reach a certain point in our lives. I have a list of things to do before I get married :

  • Write a book – I don’t have to publish it, but I have to finish writing it.
  • Read every book on my list – I will be sure to post the list later.
  • Travel alone.
  • Go hiking in North India.
  • Visit as many religious places as possible – Not as a spiritual person but from an artist’s point of view to absorb the architectural marvel that people in ancient times with no modern technology were able to achieve.
  • Learn to cook.
  • Invent a recipe and master it.
  • Get rid of any addiction.

By addiction I do not always mean drug abuse or being an alcoholic. There are simple things in life that we get so used to, we forget what it feels like to live without it. I found the one thing I spend 14 hours a day on – Facebook.

On any given day, if someone had asked me to delete my Facebook account, I would have laughed and said no. But this time, I voluntarily did that and I cannot explain how ridiculous I felt when the first night without it I felt so insecure because I did not know what the world was doing. I felt a little ashamed that my life had come to that.

I have chosen to adapt a healthier lifestyle – It is not enough if your mind desires a hiking trip. Your body has to agree too.

Someone from the outside may say that these are small changes, but in my life, these are mighty and I wonder..

If you read my previous blog, I mentioned that someone was hospitalized. If that hadn’t happened, my grandmother would not have visited me on that particular day which automatically means she would not have mentioned a groom on the looks and I would not have gotten a one hour lecture on how the future is here. My Facebook account would still be intact and I would still be addicted and insane.

Everything happens at a certain time and everything happens for a reason. The one week I spent walking through hospitals made me realize I’m getting older. My grandmother’s question made me want to act on that realization and I don’t care how childish this sounds – I am proud to have taken those baby steps towards the things I want. And I hate to accept just how peaceful I feel knowing that I’m working towards my goals.

We don’t always get to choose what happens, when. We have all cursed time at some point in our lives. On Independence Day, my grandmother turned 79 and I cursed time for aging her too fast. I cursed time for taking away the years I spent with her and turning it into mere memories. I thanked time for not slowing down and letting me grow up when she looked at me with so much pride and said “My granddaughter bought me a birthday dress with her money !” Time is our worst enemy when we’re happy and our best friend when we’re upset. Time is the only thing we cannot control. It hurts and it heals. Whether you’re a billionaire or a homeless person, time does not sway and only gives you 24 hours in a day. Time is the only thing that treats us all as equals. And when you think about it, time is all you have to do anything in this world.

Trust in the timing of your life..

A Reason for Responsibility

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This has been a trying week to say the least. I’m not going to bore you with details but to put it in simple words, every outfit I’ve worn in the past seven days stinks of hospitals and Critical Care Units. I have come to the realization that within every family dynamic there is one brave human that thinks with logic when the others succumb to emotions. It isn’t always the oldest or the strongest. It can be the grandfather, the mother, the daughter, anyone really. In my family, fortunately/unfortunately, it is me.

I say unfortunately because the older I get, the bigger the problems get and it is very difficult to put on a brave face when my emotions are begging to be let out. I say fortunately because when I do cry, I’d like to be left alone without someone constantly nagging me, telling me everything will be ok and this way, I get to go home, shut my door and cry peacefully.

We have all been told at some point “Take some responsibility.” So many of us have sat through hours of story-telling where our parents or grandparents explain how ‘when they were our age’ they used to do so much and the kids these days ‘are always beeping on that thing’. While some smart people understand the reason behind those words the very first time it is said, people like me have to go through certain bad experiences to realize it.

Type the words “parents growing old” on Google images and you will see this quote in 8 of 10 pictures :

“Love and appreciate your parents. We are so busy growing up that we often forget, they are also growing old.”

The reason a parent asks you to be responsible or to do things around the house is not because they want you to learn to do your chores or because they want to make sure you’re doing something. It’s simply because their ability to do everything is slow fading away. What they really need is your help and they don’t want to put it in those words. When a parent asks for help, we tend to get a little worried about why they cannot do something and they want to avoid that. Because what they understand that we don’t is that – Life, it is a circle. What your mother or father did for you as a child is exactly what they end up needing eventually. They try to put it off for as long as they can and let you lead a normal life.

I never saw it that way. I always believed my mother was trying to train me so she can get me married. That she was simply trying to get me off of my computer. She hates that I’m always on the internet.  My father wants me to do some work or the other. He never lets me do what I want. Always at his beck and call. Oh, they just cannot let me sit down for just a few minutes ! – All they were doing is asking for help but never putting it in quite those words. The inability to accept what was once a piece of cake was now starting to become very difficult. The feeling of not wanting to say it out loud.

Though they do this for our well-being and for our emotions, a lot of bad tags along with it. Either we never learn the reason for us to be responsible or it comes and lands on us like a ton of bricks. We suddenly realize that they’re old. They can no longer drive all night, eat what they want and have fun like they used to. The time spent laughing away and lifting you on their shoulders is now time spent eating tablets and struggling to do simple tasks around the house.

I know it is not an easy realization but the sooner we understand this, the better it is. The last thing we want to be doing is to sit around years from now and wish that maybe we’d noticed sooner. Maybe we’d helped more. Maybe we’d fought less. Maybe we’d laughed more. Maybe we’d told them how much we love them. Maybe they could still be here..

To every parent, everywhere.

With gratefulness and love.

 

 

A Person Behind The Face

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I am one of the most impatient people I have ever seen. I do not do well with crowds, long lines and people who stand at the cashier for hours and still cannot decide what they want. I especially hate when I have to listen to the same thing or answer the same question for the millionth time. “I already answered it. It’s over. Asking me about it every other day will not change what I’ve said.”

There is absolutely nothing that tests your patience more than the service industry. Incompetent staff, forever on-hold call centers and gossiping employees. It is always a struggle to not yell at a person who cannot do the one job he/she is paid to do. 

I recently went to a store and it was still pretty early in the morning. This staff member walked up to my dad and offered to help – it’s his job. We were probably his first customers for the day and when my dad asked him something and he gave an answer that hinted at an alternative suggestion, my dad snapped. This bothered me.

The lady at the cash register has been paid by a beauty products company to mention two of their products to every customer. So right before she takes money from us, she has to ask “Would you like this deodorant? This cream?” It is her duty. My sister gave her an irritated look and said “No. Just bill this. That’s enough.” It wasn’t nice.

A friend of mine had a problem with his internet connection. He called the person at the call center and screamed over the phone for not giving him the perfect solution. The problem was that the man sitting on the other line was not an engineer and had no idea what to do to get the internet to work again. They have a list of solutions written on a computer screen and if it’s a different problem, they don’t know what to do. This is common knowledge.

These are three instances that have happened over the past month. Three instances that I look down upon. Yes, the man at the store is paid to please my dad. But his day was just starting and the least we could do was not ruin it already. When you start your day by getting yelled at, it really puts you off. 

My sister and I were shopping and I had gotten my things just a few minutes before her. The woman who stood in front of me was there for twenty minutes trying to figure out if she wanted to pick the brown hair clip or the black hair clip. I looked at her and said, “Could you please go stand in the side, decide and come back? You’re holding up the line.” Because it wasn’t the cashier’s fault. The cashier gets paid to stand there and smile at even the most irritating of customers. She can’t tell the woman to walk away. It is not ok to be shouting at that cashier for doing her job.

We often let money cloud our judgement. “I pay the bill, they better treat me like I deserve to be treated.” We forget that the face you see has a person behind it. A person that hurts when you scream at them first thing in the morning. A person who has to repeat the same question about the same products to every customer and get irritated looks just so she/he can make ends meet. 

Someone sent me a private message criticizing my blog recently. It upset me. If she didn’t have something nice to say, she shouldn’t say anything. There is a difference between creative criticism and being mean.

Always remember, money or not, no matter which side of the cash register you’re standing in, you both bleed the same when poked. Yelling over the phone just because you can and writing mean comments because you don’t love it is not healthy or nice. Give out a smile. A genuine one. Don’t feel like it? At least don’t frown.

The best mantra to live by – Never treat someone the way you wouldn’t want to be treated. 

And never justify it with “I’m great ! I have money ! If people like me didn’t buy things, she/he wouldn’t have a  job !”

If people like them didn’t exist, you wouldn’t have someone to yell at. 

It doesn’t matter whether the person on the other side of the computer screen, phone or register is the most stupidest person on the planet, their emotions are still valid. Just like yours.