#ReactWithKindness

20 Comments

“It was a bright morning. I turned to smile at the person who made life feel like a dream come true. It was a tough year so far and all our money had gone towards mom’s medical bills. Me losing my job didn’t help and with the scarcity of opportunities for someone with average education, it had been challenging. Some days were better than others. Today was one of those better days. My kid had Autism. Therapy was a little expensive but worth it. We were going to participate in a local event. As a family. We hadn’t done anything, the three of us together, in a really long time. I was excited.

We figured too much breakfast might not help us during the day and stuck with juice. The house was abuzz with laughter. Hope was just beginning to resurface. We held hands as we walked to the venue.

The crowd gathered and the little one sighed with impatience. Finally, we heard the voice say, “3.. 2.. 1.. Go !” And we began to run. As fast as we could, laughing and giggling. We almost looked like the perfect family and my heart swelled for I had a very rough and unstable upbringing. But here we were. A new wave of energy took over me and it felt amazing. It was almost as if this was an indication that we were going to move forward. Not just in this race but in life. We were going to run through it with smiling faces just like this. The good times were here. I turned to my left and grinned.

*…………………………*

I’m lying on the ground. I feel suffocated. I hear voices but I can’t make out what they’re saying. I hear a cry but I don’t know where it’s coming from. I want to get up but I feel like I’m tied down. I can’t speak. My kid..My little baby.. I can’t think as pain takes over every part of my body. I want to see what’s around me and I will myself to get up. I struggle as I push myself up and almost instantly regret it. I’m surrounded by smoke, blood, death and tears. I find the point of pain in my body. I see the bone poking out of my right leg. Fear washes over me. My family.. Where’s my family.. I have to find my family.. I look around like a mad person, screaming their names. I’m starting to feel frantic. Panic is the only emotion I feel. Tears run down my face. I try hard to focus on every voice I hear to see if I can hear theirs. I turn around trying to spot them and I almost missed it. Sometimes, I wish I had. Because there, lying beneath a pile of people and a lot of blood, is the love of my life holding on to my child. I went numb. This can’t be.. It can’t happen.. It’s not them.. It shouldn’t be them..”

They say “a certain group has taken responsibility for the incident that led to the death of so many innocent people.” I hate it when they do. They’re shedding light on a bunch of people that shouldn’t be acknowledged as human beings.

This post is a struggle to write as I constantly battle between rage and logic.

Everyone has a past. We all lose loved ones. But we don’t wake up one morning and think to ourselves, “Oh I’m pissed beyond reason. I need to blow up a few buildings and kill a couple of hundred people.” There has to be an underlying reason and an amount of mental instability behind behavior like this that I feel like we’re missing. Everyone is capable of kindness. It’s just a little difficult for some in comparison to others. But no matter what the trigger, revenge is not the answer. Especially if your revenge does not involve the person(s) you’re actually offended by.

“If you release this movie, we will bomb the theaters.” – Does this sound normal to you?

I’m not the nicest person in the world. I don’t care if two people hold a grudge and want to slaughter each other’s heads off. Their consequences are theirs to face. But I would like an explanation as to why the world deems it ok to use people who have absolutely nothing to do with the process as bait?

And if that’s not ok, why are we still not doing something about it?

Blood cannot be avenged by blood. I’m not a Gandhi person. I don’t believe that if someone slaps you, you show them the other cheek. I also don’t believe that I can only come to peace with it by slapping them back. Because if you do exactly what they did, you lose the ability to pinpoint, for at that moment, you’re simply staring at a mirror.

“The one way to combat the sad and terrible things we see is to bring just a little bit of kindness into the world”

– Ben Affleck, PCA 2015

I might not have the perfect definition for what kindness is but I do know it does not involve ruining a stranger’s life. No matter how bad it gets, there’s always someone willing to listen, willing to help.

You will never stop an explosion by creating another one.

And to the ones that walk away without caring because you believe that it will never be you, I’m sure there was someone out there who thought that too. Until the fiction written above became their reality.

#ReactWithKindness

Inspired by Rebekah Gregory, Boston Marathon Bombing survivor.

New Year Ramblings

71 Comments

It’s a new year again ! It’s a new beginning. New relationships, new friendships, new entertainment, new disasters and renewed resolutions.

When you count down the last few seconds, it’s so exciting. It’s the end of an entire year. It’s time to make some new memories. It’s the start of something new, something different, something perfect and 3, 2, 1…

Hi. It’s the exact same life you had ten seconds ago.

Because this is the truth we refuse to see. The truth behind every failed New Year’s Resolution.

On the 31st of December 2014, I was not a member at any gym across the city for one exact reason – I’m a lazy bum. About ten minutes before midnight, I had not travelled to any of the places on my bucket list because – I have no savings and no way of getting some anytime soon. When the clock read 11:59:50PM – I hated adventure and things that weren’t planned to the very last detail.

And unfortunately, at midnight, there was no fairy godmother waving her magic wand to change any of it.

When we bring in a new year, we make all these plans. We expect to become healthier and smarter and make better decisions. We tell ourselves that our lives will no longer be what it was. We’re going to re-organize the drama, find a way to lose the weight, save a lot of money and do all the things we couldn’t do last year. And amidst the chaos and excitement, we forget that the only thing that will be different the next morning is that one digit on our calendar.

Change doesn’t happen with the date or time. It doesn’t happen when a year ends. It doesn’t happen when the clock strikes midnight. Change happens from within us. If we really want to become healthier, we have to attempt to eat and live a healthier life. If we want to travel the world, the money isn’t going to magically appear in our bank accounts. We have to consider a way to save, starting today. And as for changing who we are, it’s not always necessary but if it is, it definitely has to start from the inside.

So this New Year, instead of trying to change everything drastically within the first month, try to take up one oath. That you will make small changes everyday. A change so small that it might be insignificant today but will make a big difference 365 days from now. Let this be the year where you keep up your resolutions, not because you made easy ones but because you made logical ones. And I hope this year has more happy and proud memories than all that’s been so far.

And while we’re on that note, I just wanted to share with you something I’ve been doing for the past two years and have taken on again this year.

The Happy Box :

The Happy Box doesn’t have to be a particularly nice one. It can be anything from a recycled shoe box to an old tin you found lying around. Every time you feel joy and happiness, write it down along with the date and put it in your Happy Box along with some money. It doesn’t have to be big amounts. Can even be 1 cent / paise if that’s all you can manage. On January 1st 2016, open the box. We make so many memories throughout the year. Some of them are forever etched in our brains, while others are lost in a sea of thoughts and emotions. This will be a good way to look back on those lost moments as well as a way of saving money, even if it’s just a little bit. So come a new year, you get to re-live the best moments that you’d forgotten and spend the money you saved. This was my unboxing day :

Happy Box 2014

One of the things I’d forgotten about last year, that I was reminded of through a happy box note, was a very normal day spent with family, laughing about childhood memories a few hours before my cousin went back to the US. Do let me know what your happiest moments from last year were and if you think the Happy Box is something you would do.

Once again, Happy New Year you guys ! Last year was absolutely amazing and Thank You SO MUCH for all the positivity you sent my way. I had a post I really wanted to put up this week but I felt like the first post of a new year needed to be much more happier and lighter. So until next week..

Sending a lot of love your way ❤

Make Sure It’s Worth It

17 Comments

I make New Year resolutions just like everyone else. I don’t always keep them up just like everyone else. And if you’ve been around for a while, you would’ve noticed my post about how ‘I feel like a failure‘. Though there were so many kind and motivational comments, I felt like something was missing. Something I desperately needed to hear. The last push. I just didn’t know what it was. I wanted to find out before I started 2015.

On Tuesday, I was looking through Pinterest when I came across this picture :

Pinterest quote picture

I fell in love with this. It made sense. Some thing spoke to me on a very deep and emotional level. That was the first time I felt it. Like that missing part had been found. Like life finally made sense. I knew what the future needed to be. And then it happened again the very next day.

If you’ve heard of South Indian cinema, you’ve probably heard of Super Star Rajinikanth. The man has the mass going crazy about the smallest of dialogues and gestures. He makes blockbusters out of nothing. It’s crazy to think, at one point, he was just a bus conductor and was spotted and introduced to the world of cinema by a directorial genius named K. Balachander – commonly known as KB. A director who has made the most brilliant forward-thinking movies, discovered some of the best names in the industry and was an inspiration to anyone with a dream. Unfortunately, the world saw the last of him on a live funeral this Wednesday. The stars and the crowd that gathered and cried for him was visual proof of the kind of man he was. He changed cinema in a way one cannot imagine. But the only thought I had as I saw that legend one last time was this :

We are born from nothing. We end up as nothing. Centuries later, we would be long forgotten. Everything about us would be irrelevant. Today, he is mourned and missed because his life had meaning. He changed the lives of so many. He made stars out of common men. South Indian cinema wouldn’t have been the same without this man. His life’s purpose was to better movies and bring to the spotlight talented people. History will forever hold his name. So what is the purpose of my life?!

This was the second time I felt it. The first time, the picture was a movie theatre. The second time, was the death of a man who made cinema what it is today. Maybe it’s just coincidence. Maybe it was meant to be but KB gave me the spark I needed to move forward.

I will live to, maybe, 60? If not, less. Then I’d be gone. Burnt to ashes and thrown into the ocean. Few generations down, my own family will suffer to remember who “that grandmother’s grandmother” was. This is pretty much half the world. And yet we sit around, we gossip, we surround ourselves with so much negativity, we judge others based on what we see and not what we understand, we spread rumors, we fight, we cry, we get heartbroken and we finally wither away. What is the point of this life?

When you’re breathing your very last, will it matter that you knew her boobs were fake? Will it matter that you were right about the neighbor’s affair? Will it matter that you thought the woman in a sexy dress on the street at midnight was a “total slut” even though she might have just been a mother trying to make some money to feed 4 kids after their father died at war? Or will it matter that you’ve done something worthwhile and brought some happiness to yourself and others around you?

Life isn’t about the success or failures. It’s not about how much money you’ve made or how big your house was. When I die, if there is one person that feels as shattered as the thousands that stood by KB’s corpse, I know I have lived a life worth living.

So this year, I’m not going to make a resolution to lose twenty pounds. I’m not going to tell myself that I can eat healthy all through the year. I’m not going to set unrealistic financial goals so I can take a trip around the world. Here is my 2015 resolution :

This life that I was either blessed or cursed with, I am going to make worth my while. I am going to walk away from negativity and I will surround myself with the ones I love and the ones who love me. I may not be able to change the world, but I can change at least one person’s life for the better and I will. Besides..

New Year 2015

I hope you have an incredible day and year ahead. Happy New Year 2015 ❤

The Santa Claus Theory

35 Comments

I didn’t grow up with Santa. I don’t celebrate Christmas. I don’t know the story. But I like the concept. I’ve always wanted the presents and the tree. When I was 16, I went to Santa Anita Mall in California and took a picture with Santa Claus. My first one ever. I now have that picture on a keychain tucked safe inside a box. A priced possession. That’s what I think Christmas is about.

In kindergarten, my teacher would ask us to bring a wrapped gift from our parents to put under a tree so during our last class before Christmas, one of the staff members could dress up as Santa Claus and give it back to us as presents. It was the most wonderful time of the year. Technically, it’s a present from me, for me and yet it felt unbelievably amazing. But can every child have that?

I have parents that took the time and spent the money to buy me a present and wrap it perfectly just so I could have something to be surprised about on a day that I don’t even celebrate. Can everyone do that? Can everyone afford to do that?

This year, my best friend and I have decided to start a tradition. We love the idea of Christmas and presents. So we set a common budget and said, “We will meet on the 25th and exchange gifts. It is definitely going to be so much fun.” The day is drawing close and I’m starting to have second thoughts. There’s nothing we’re going to buy that the other cannot afford now or at any other time during the year. There’s nothing we really want that we can’t live without. You see, we live pretty content lives, materialistically speaking. So what is the point of starting something like this? What is it that the two of us crave but can’t have right now? And then.. I had a light bulb moment.

Happiness. We are both going through a very difficult and trying time. It is a struggle to get through the day and we would love it if, just for a few minutes, we could feel undisturbed happiness. But how do we give each other that?

I called her. I explained what I believe should be done on that day and she agreed without hesitation. So here’s the thing.

This year, my best friend and I have decided to start a tradition. We love the idea of Christmas and presents. Just like so many other kids in my city that actually celebrate the holiday but can’t afford to buy presents. So we set a common budget and said, “We will meet on the 25th and go to the closest orphanage or homeless shelter and give them gifts. It is definitely going to be so much fun.” The day is drawing close and I’m starting to feel excited. These are kids without parents, without families. All they have is each other and there’s not much they can give to each other but love and though that is better than any material ever, a little Christmas miracle never hurt anybody. So we want to give them something they can enjoy. It doesn’t have to be big or expensive. It just has to make them happy.

Because the only way you can ever give happiness to yourself is by giving it to another.

It may sound selfish but there’s nothing wrong in feeling good as long as you know that the reason you did what you did was for the other person and not for yourself. So here’s what I think – When you look at it from a distance, there’s more to the tiny little things that surround this day, more lessons, more joy than what it has become. And when I think of Santa, I think it’s what he intended to do. This was Santa Claus’ Theory :

He’ll teach the kids to be nice all through the year by tempting them with a reward. He’ll teach them to appreciate the people in their lives. He’ll help them understand the next person’s needs so they can buy exactly that for a present. He’ll show them the art of happiness – not because of what you have as your present but because you watch the other person smile at what you’ve gotten for them. He’ll let the family create a lifetime of traditions.

Like I want to create with you. So let’s do this – you and me. Our little Christmas tradition to be done year after year, for as long as we live.

When you’re shopping for presents, buy a little something else. Can even be a bag of chocolates. Drop it off at the closest homeless shelter on Christmas day. If you’re feeling up to it, walk in and hand them to the people there. It’ll be our little thing every year. It’s not expensive, it’s not mighty but it’s a memory. For you, for me and for them. And I’ve always said, a memory is the most priced possession you can ever have.

Sending a lot of love, joy and miracles your way,

Merry Christmas 🙂

I Feel Like A Failure

70 Comments

There. I’ve said it. I’ve said the words I’ve been afraid to say for weeks, months now. This is what I feared. This emotion that I do not know how to process. This emotion that I do not know how to rise from. This emotion that I can’t make go away. This emotion that consumes me from the moment I wake up. The one that keeps me from sleeping at night.

We all make plans. Long term plans. I made a five-years’ plan. I was going to graduate university, get a job at an advertising agency and work my way up to one day be the Creative Director. Get my own apartment. Call my mom when I missed her food. Have this life that was so perfect and filled with flaws that were sprinkled all over it like tiny little snowflakes. I was moving forward and there came a point when I could see everything I ever wanted right there in front of me. All I had to do was grab it with both hands and never let go and I almost did. But then..

..The Universe happened.

I can be naive and childish about a lot of things but the very big decisions, I put a lot of thought into and I insist about sleeping on it because I believe you always see things more clearly after a good night’s rest. So that’s what I did. After a lot of thought, I made the decision to drop out, not because it was the right thing to do for myself but because it was the right thing to do for my family. I told myself it was a temporary situation. What I’d forgotten was that my five-years’ plan didn’t have enough wiggle room for that break. Because when I made that plan, I told myself it was all or nothing. I aimed for All. Life gave me Nothing.

In two months, it’ll be two years since my life stood still. When everything around me came to a screeching halt.

I’ve written five versions of this post. Nothing sums up what I’m feeling. I have no words to explain this thin line I’m standing on. This feeling where the smallest of pushes will turn me into a crying mess. I have lived all my life with insecurities that I locked deep inside me and some time over these past few months, they’ve been set free. I avoid conversations. I ignore successful people. I refuse to acknowledge happiness. Not because I’m jealous or negative. But because I long for that. Because it was so close and now it feels like a faraway dream that I might never have. I am the Titanic right after it hit the iceberg. Filled with chaos. Falling apart.

The most success I’ve had today is that I swallowed my tears. I didn’t let myself cry like I wanted to. And that’s not ok. Not by a long shot. This cannot be my life. I have made so many mistakes but the biggest one so far was the moment I let myself sink.

When talking to my father about a potential groom, I always said – “He has to be the kind of person that started his life from scratch. He can have the smallest apartment and we could be saving not more than $10 a month and I will still be proud of him because everything he has came from his hard work. I will remind him everyday that he’s worth it. Because he is all that matters.”

This was the mistake. I had so much encouragement and pride towards someone I’ve never met and yet, I didn’t have it for myself. I didn’t tell myself it’s ok to fall. I didn’t take pride in having the strength to live through that. I didn’t encourage myself enough to want to rise from this and make a life for myself. I didn’t value my life enough to do something about it. I just let myself go.

When I started this post, it was going to end right here. But as I pour these thoughts out, I’m starting to see things with clarity.

And now when I look back, I feel like I’ve paved the way to my own depression and I’m afraid that if I don’t do something about it, this will be the rest of my life.

So this is where I will start. Today, right this moment I take an oath to myself that I’m going to turn this around. I’m going to pick myself up and dust myself off. I’m going to find a Plan B and leave enough wiggle room for a Plan C. My cousin is getting married in March. When that wedding comes, I will not hide behind a fake smile. I will not avoid conversations. I will not find excuses to not go. Because right now…

I feel like a failure. But it’s not who I am and I won’t let it be.

Failure J.K Rowling

Because I’m Happy

33 Comments

Happiness. That’s the ultimate goal. We all want to be happy. The moment we throw our heads back and laugh without a care for the world. When we cry with joy and sigh with contentment. When everything feels calm. When life feels serene. Sounds so perfect, doesn’t it?

So what does that for you? What makes you happy?

My mother’s friend was planning on sending her son to university in a foreign country. Unfortunate for them, the plan was cancelled last minute and he got stuck here. During a fight about the whole situation, he said “I cannot live here. This place does not make me happy. I need to go there to be happy.”

Do you remember a time in your life when you were so happy that it was undescribable? When nothing you will ever say could sum up what you felt at that very moment? Was it the place? Was it the people? Was it you?

I remember, when I was a kid, my grandmother and I used to play cricket with a plastic bat and ball in the living room. There were only two rules. When I held the bat, everything was a winning hit. When she held the bat, she lost in the first play. I was so happy. It was a tiny house with a living room the size of my current bathroom. We didn’t have a lot of money and we didn’t have a lot of things. It was the happiest time of my life.

I feel like, as we grow up, we begin to feel more miserable by the day. What we feel no longer depends on the people who love us or the moments we have. Our happiness starts being defined by the person sitting next to us. She has an iPad. He has a Ferrari. They have a Phd. His family is bigger. They are more in love than we are. I don’t have those things. My life isn’t like theirs. I have nothing. I don’t feel enough. My house is smaller. My car is older. And I won’t be happy until I get that particular iPhone with the slow motion capture or that fancy car with those amazing speakers. I won’t be happy until I am loved as much as he is.

“You wrecked my happiness by not giving me enough !”

That is not right. I do not agree with the concept that I will only be happy when I have what someone else does too. That I can only be happy when I’m loved like someone else is. It’s not how it works.

I’ve had some very unhappy moments. But they came from within, not from the outside. When I’m upset, I can’t blame the next person for it. I will always have more than someone else and if I don’t know how to use the opportunities presented to me, that’s my fault. There is always someone looking at us and thinking “I want what they have so I can be happy.” Instead of gloating in that feeling, wouldn’t it be nice to set an example ?!

And often, people get the feeling of happy and lonely mixed up. They presume that if you’re lonely, you’re depressed. But that’s not true. You can be so utterly happy and yet feel unbelievably lonely because you don’t have someone to share that happiness with.

We don’t need that man, that woman, that mansion, his car, her earrings, their life – because you can have it all and feel absolutely miserable. You can be sitting on top of the world and be the most unhappiest person on the planet. Take a look at a poverty stricken area in your neighborhood. I will assure you there are more people laughing there than in that of a fancy gated community. They are not happy from the money. They are not happy from the fancy phones or cars that they cannot have. They are happy from within.

Any moment of joy you will ever feel has to come from you. Because I can give you the best of the best but know that with time, something better will come along and you will be exactly where you were all over again.

I’ll say it now and I’ll say it always. Life is shitty. It’s miserable for the most part. There’s always the lack of something or someone. If we want to start picking on all the things that are wrong, we will spend the rest of our lives feeling so irrepairably miserable and depressed. There’s never a moment in your life when something is not right. Find that. Hold on to that little positive thought. And choose to smile. Be happy. Not because it’s what’s expected. Not because you’ve got something someone else doesn’t. Not because you’re loved like no one else is.

Be happy because you can be.

P.A.I.N

56 Comments

0001-17545461

Pain. That’s probably one of the most dreaded words on the planet. Pain. The sound of it makes me cringe. It’s emotional. It’s physical. It can numb you from head to toe and take away your ability to think or act rationally. Pain – that’s the word. But what is it really?

The doctors often say, “Rate the pain you’re feeling from 1 to 10, with 1 being the lowest.” I have never said 10. Because I know nothing I will ever feel is 10. There’s always something worse right around the corner. It’s like education. The older you get, the worse it becomes. But you also understand that everything in the past was just a preparation for the present. And the present is preparing you for the future.

Because pain is evergrowing.

Like the moment you watch your perfect family crumble and fall. Your world stops and you think the worst has happened, only to realize that it is a permanent fall and can never be rebuilt.

Like feeling hope for the first time in years when someone promises not to walk away and watching that hope crash as you sit on your bed, clutching your phone and sobbing silently.

Like giving up on a dream. Giving up on your five year plan for no fault of yours.

Like heartbreak. You think you’ve figured it out after the first time. You understand what it is. You can handle it. And then the second one happens and it’s ten times more than what you could have ever imagined.

Like the very second after you’ve said “I love you” for the first time and the person on the other end pauses. Your hope sinks with every tick on the clock and yet you feel so unprepared for the “Hmm” that you think you heard in a hallucination but was reality.

Like that little eight year old girl sitting on a couch while her aunt called her “a brave kid” and she grinned – a fake grin – to cover up the stab she felt deep inside her. The need to be anywhere but there. To wake up from the nightmare. To have someone tell her that this is not her life, this is not her childhood.

Pain. When you’re four, you think the scratch on your feet is horrible. Then you get bruised and it leaves a scar. Eventually it becomes ligament tears. And then broken bones. One fine day, you’re struggling to get out of bed because every part of your body hurts. Everything feels painful. But it doesn’t mean the world is over. You don’t give up on school because your classes got harder. Like you don’t stop living because the pain got worse. You go on. You learn to put one foot in front of the other and walk it off.

Because sometimes, pain is good.

Pain lets you appreciate happiness. It teaches you the value of those small moments in life. It helps you learn the concept of empathy. It brings people with similar battles together. It gives you wisdom. It makes you stronger. And when looked at right – Pain gives purpose to life. Maybe pain was created, not to sink us, but to let us help others who are going through the same thing. Maybe pain was meant to irk a positivity that I have failed to see for a very long time now. It’s the only thing you can do about pain without creating a more traumatic experience for the people who love you. Maybe that’s why the word exists to explain that emotion.

Maybe PAIN is just an abbreviation of – Positive. Attitude. Is. Necessary.

Maybe that’s why, like positivity, pain cannot be killed. Pain cannot be willed away. Pain cannot be destroyed. Pain cannot be ignored.

“Pain Demands To Be Felt”

– John Green

Inspired by the comment by Ceolittle :

“I was feeling down today kinda lost what the real meaning of life is all about through all the pain”

What You Leave Behind..

21 Comments

Andy Warhol

We all want to do something significant. We want to leave a part of us behind for everyone else to remember us by. We buy all these things and then we write a will about who’ll get what. That’s the part of us we leave behind for them and they’ll leave behind to their kids and for generations this will be passed around and you will be known as the person to whom it belonged. You will be remembered through that object.

I was at an Andy Warhol exhibit in Singapore a few years ago. I loved the art, the creativity, the small facts I got to learn about him. Spread across many different walls were quotes. His quotes. As a writer, I love reading quotes and thinking about what it might have meant to that person when they said it but when I read this particular quote, I didn’t care. I didn’t care what it meant to him or what he was thinking when he said it because this quote was all about me. It spoke to me in a way that I can’t explain. It was every thought I had ever had about death – My death. Andy Warhol had read my mind before I even existed.

Death is one of the most commonly occuring thought processes in my mind. Last night, right before I drifted off to sleep, I couldn’t stop thinking about the number of people that would be affected should I die that very second. My close family is a given and I can’t stop them from feeling miserable about it but the outsiders. The friends I’ve made and the people I affect. The ones that choose to love me and the ones I presume our affectionate towards me, though I may be wrong. How many of them will actually have a day when they pick up their phones just to realize I’m not alive for them to call? How many will miss me? This was the best thought I have had in a very long time.

I hate to admit this to anyone because it always rubs off the wrong way – I’m a control freak. If something is a certain way, it has to be that way. If you make a plan to meet me, you better show up. Do not call me in the very last minute and say “I can’t make it.” I’ll understand. But I will also be so so annoyed because that just completely wrecked my day. A few years ago my brother and I were supposed to go birthday shopping. He ditched me last minute. Even today, I always call him ten minutes before I leave to ensure he’s going to make it. And it’s difficult to find a friend that is not annoyed by this. Someone who understands and accepts this part of you.

They say a friend is the only person who doesn’t judge you for your choices and sticks with you no matter what and I got to realize exactly who they were in my life last night and I felt bad. Because when I die, I affect some of the kindest people I’ve known. Is that really what I want?

This is why I think suicide is selfish. It’s not cowardly. It’s not stupid. It’s selfish. When a person decides to take his own life, he is only thinking about himself. He is only thinking about ending his misery. He doesn’t stop to think just how many people around him, how many loved ones will suffer for the rest of their lives because he chose not to care about anyone but himself. They will live forever wondering why they didn’t see. Why they didn’t help. Don’t you think Robin Williams’ daughter wonders that? His friends? His family? His colleagues?

A long time ago, I had this plan – When I’m old and done with all my responsibilities, I want to throw a party. A big one to invite everyone that’s ever known me. And if any of them ever wanted to write a euology, they can write one and read it to me at that party because seriously, what’s the point of saying nice things to me once I’m dead? So I just want them to read it. And I’ll say goodbye and I’ll take a little bit of the money I’ve earned in my life, pack my bags, erase or throw away any object that could remind the people that love me that I’m no longer there and just leave. They won’t know where I am. They won’t know if I’m alive or dead. I’d have vanished. Like Andy Warhol said he’d like to do.

Because we can’t live in fear. We can’t keep away from the ones we love, the ones who love us just because we’re afraid of the scar we’ll leave behind. We can’t not make memories in fear of those incredible moments turning into nightmares someday. But there is something we can do :

We can stop spending our times accumulating materialistic things and instead just care and be compassionate. We can learn to be kind and show others what living can truly mean. We can save something that five generations wouldn’t just pass around but would talk about. Would want to live upto.

Because the things you leave may rot and fade but the memories and life lessons – they’re here to stay.

The Bigger Problem

29 Comments

Glossophobia. Do you know what that means? I didn’t. In my first year at university, I stood in front of my entire class and instead of flawlessly explaining the cultural differences, I froze. Two weeks later I wrote a very long paper on that word. Glossophobia – The fear of public speaking.

We humans do this very often. We tend to not notice something until we have the need to do so. There aren’t a lot of things on this planet we learn about willingly.

Unfortunately, the people that aren’t a part of our lives fall under that category.

If you had looked at my History book at the end of an academic year, it would have looked brand new. I hated history. I was very clear – Somebody killed somebody. They’re both dead and I couldn’t care less.

And I know there are a lot of people that agree with me about that but even they cannot deny the fact that though History may be insignificant, the future will always matter. And I don’t want to wait until I am left with no choice again. Because Glossophobia – it is the smallest of our problems. There are bigger problems with fewer support groups that nobody talks about. But I want to talk about it.

Because the fact that my mother wakes up every morning and knows I’m going to be fast asleep and not dead is actually a privilige – That is a problem.

I’ve tried to put this thought into words for a very long time now and luckily someone else did it for me. Because this – this moment when we realize that someone out there could be smarter, better and absolutely amazing at doing exactly what we do but with no means to show it – this is the truth.

“I have never understood why some people are lucky enough to be born with the chance that I had—with this path in life. And why across the world, there’s a woman just like me with the same abilities and the same desires, the same work ethic and love for her family who would most likely make better films and better speeches. Only she sits in a refuge camp, and she has no voice. She worries about what her children will eat, how to keep them safe, and if they’ll ever return home. I don’t know why this is my life and that’s hers…” – Angelina Jolie, Governers Awards Speech

And I have wondered for a long time how it is fair that I get to wake up in the morning and her innocent, darling child didn’t. And the truth is, it’s not and I would love to be the individual that changes that, that changes the world and brings about world peace but I can’t. I can’t do this alone.

I can’t stop poverty alone. I can’t stop wars alone. I can’t save those kids with amazing talent – the ones being shot in war zones, the ones dying of hunger, the ones struggling to jump from one refuge camp to another and the ones that might not wake up tomorrow – and help better their lives.

“She speaks more languages than anyone in the family. Because she plays with all the children in the street.”

This was a quote describing a little kid on Humans of New York. It makes me feel sick that a child has the ability to see something so simple that we as adults have failed to understand. That she has the ability to look at a child and see just that. She doesn’t see where they come from or who their parents are. And if only we could do that.

Do you know about the photographer, Kevin Carter? He killed himself after shooting a picture of a kid in starvation. I can’t count the number of times I’ve looked at my mother and said “I’m going to die of hunger. Feed me now !”

I wanted to put up that picture on this blog but I just can’t bring myself to. I can’t look at it. It may have been taken a long time ago but I assure you, there is still a kid somewhere in this world that looks like that and is going through that. And yes, there are people rallying about it and screaming about it but nobody with a life takes the time to listen and that is a problem.

Because..

Is it fair that we get to whine about not having pizza for dinner? Is it fair that I get pissed with the Universe for not letting me travel the world when some kid out there can’t even travel home? Is it fair that this life that I don’t do much with, some kid would have used to the best of his ability and maybe even cured Cancer with but he’s sitting in a little room made of plastic scraps and wondering where his next meal’s going to come from while struggling to ignore the mental images of his dead parents?

And should we really wait until we are left with no choice but to listen?

And Just Like That..

9 Comments

… It’s been a year. One whole year of LoudThoughtsVoicedOut… I still can’t believe it.

The first time I ever read a blog, I was 16. I was fascinated with the concept. The fact that people read what some stranger would write was so interesting to me. I didn’t want to start one then. Because “Seriously Poornima, let’s get realistic. Who’s going to read what you write? NOBODY ! That’s who. Don’t embarrass yourself like this. It’s pointless. Go read something.” And that side of my brain won the argument.

When I was in school, there was this particular friend who encouraged me. Kept telling me that I should write for a living. That  writing is my calling. I’d like to thank her first for believing in the words I wrote when I didn’t think they mattered at all.

I gave in at 18. I started a blog. But what would I write about? My everyday life? Hmm. Let me think – I woke up. I ate breakfast. I hung out with friends. Dad and I talked about universities in Singapore. I ate again. I slept. – If that doesn’t make for an interesting blog, I don’t know what will. I don’t even remember what that blog’s name was.

A friend of mine writes blogs and I could relate to them so much. I enjoyed reading them and I always thought if I ever tried again, I want to write about something that people could relate to. The kind of things that would make the readers go “Oh yeah. I know that feeling.”

Last year, my best friend from university came to visit me. We went out for a ‘fun night out’. My idea of fun was never a party or a club and it became undeniably clear the night of November 8, 2013. So I just sat there and observed the difference between the crowd that had fun and the crowd that got wasted and used. It sparked a thought in me that I couldn’t push away.

It was 6 in the morning when I got home and even after a long nap, my head was stuck with how ridiculous the world of clubbing had gotten. How fun was no longer fun. The peer pressure to drink more. I still cannot get over it.

One thing I’ve learnt to do over the past few years is that when my mind refuses to shut up, I write about it. I didn’t have a journal. I just wrote on anything I found and it could get trashed and I didn’t care. I just needed an outlet, that was all. But this experience was different. That night – the most gorgeous view of my city, the best of friends and yet, instead of enjoying that, people were drowning themselves in alcohol. This deserved more than a scrappy paper. There surely had to be someone, somewhere that felt the same way.

Ladies and Gentleman, the most incredible blog of the season – Clubbing – A sober choice? Or a social need? I thought it would go off the roof. Everyone would love it and I was going to be blogging sensation. I had one visitor and one view.  Hey, Rome wasn’t built in a day. But, I got excited and though it was supposed to be an anonymous blog, I had my closest friends read it.

I will be honest here – when I started this blog, I told myself, “If you do this for one year, and you have 10 followers at the end of the year, you’ve achieved something.” Today, there’s more than 400 of you reading what I write, giving me such positive comments and feedback and I can’t thank you enough.

I’ve said this over and over again – I was miserable when I started doing this. But this blog and the comments you all write has gotten me through so much. Like yesterday, when all I could do was cry, someone commented something nice and I smiled. So many of you have shared your struggles with me and you have given me hope, courage and wisdom. I mean, I’ve even learnt new words. Thank you.

This blog has gotten the man that said “You will not pick writing as a career” to say “There’s ways to make a writing career work.” (Totally you, Dad)

So, Thank you, Thank you and Thank you so so so much.

These are some of my favorite posts over the past year :

Fear | What are you afraid of?

Beauty…

Homosexuality – Love in its purest form : Illegal

Way Too Much Sex, Everywhere !

The Woman I Admire The Most | A Dedication

“I’m Not A Girl Anymore..”

Trust In Time

I am going to kick off my second year with a post I’ve been working on for months now. So until next week.. 🙂

P.S – THANK YOU ❤