Life altering free sodas when it’s 32 degrees outside and almost unbearable.
It’s raining now. A nice change.
Picture credits: Myself.
Life altering free sodas when it’s 32 degrees outside and almost unbearable.
It’s raining now. A nice change.
Picture credits: Myself.
Depression has hit a new high and I have taken to writing once more. Have been busy this past couple of days. Reason? Infinite subjects to cover for my exams. Still, I feel like I am not studying anything. Basically, I have two papers for my lit major examination. Paper 1 has the history of literature part, a part which is all history and mugging up. I can mug up but at times the syllabus becomes too much. You study day and night and then you feel you won’t remember anything on the day of the examination. And you repeat. It isn’t a good feeling, trust me. You feel like nothing’s progressing and you are just stuck with the same old chapter that you have been studying for the last 10 days. When you finally gather up the courage to move to the next chapter, you realise you’ve forgotten everything. Haha. Paper 2 is interesting and contains the study of poems by Keats, Coleridge, Wordswoth, Pope and others. I have covered that already.
On top of that, I don’t have any space at home. The conditions are cramped up and with my family being this orthodox, I can’t just go out and chill with a few friends without divulging every detail. It has become so tiring for me that I hardly try anymore. Also, I feel guilty after I go out or watch a movie or do anything apart from studies. I feel like I have wasted valuable time. So much pressure is killing me, really.
My phone has stopped working and it has been 4 days since. I had installed a new app which was helping me cut down on internet time. But now, I am almost always online and the guilt trip is increasing day by day.
I took an online personality test today. My anxiety level was 100, reservedness was 94, distrust level was 88. These scores perfectly justifies the description of myself on WordPress. I do not know how many of you suffer from anxiety like I do, but those who don’t, you are living a nice life. I am envious. On my bad days, I am anxious about almost everything. My body, for starters, moving on to my boyfriend, my friends. I have insecurities about them leaving me for other people, for other friends. I feel so lonely and I get convinced I am unwanted. Nobody wants me in their lives, nobody wants to hang out with me. I feel that I am ugly and that I could have been better looking, or could have been a little thinner. And bam! Existential crisis hits. The thing is, if you ever meet me, which I doubt any of you will, you will find me to be the coolest person to be around or a friend who listens to you, or even “cute” and “small”. Yeah, I get described by those words. Haha.
I am so secretive that people won’t know anything about what’s actually going on in my mind. Most of us are like this I am afraid. For example if I feel bad about something or think about talking about my issues to somebody, my mind will go haywire and will start telling me things like why are you sharing things with this person? Do you even trust her/him? How do you know she/he won’t judge you behind your back? I think and end up bottling my issues. It is not like no one wants to know. My boyfriend tries to reach out. But even if I go a distance and tell him a bit, I will shrivel up into a ball before I disclose everything. I have trust issues. I fear that people will see my ugly inside and reject me. Sorry. I won’t be able to take that. I get insecured by facebook comments. I don’t know how. But I do. That is how fucked up social network is. I need to go off. But I can’t. Because..insecurities. These are the bad days. Days when you feel claustrophobic and would almost kill for some fresh air.
Sometimes I just hope I could go away somewhere and start afresh. No one who has a pre-formed idea about me, and I can start from the very beginning, leave my impression on a fresh white page.
But, I will tear myself up before I say these to anybody else. Sympathy is basically the last thing I want. I just want someone to listen to me, someone neutral, someone unbiased. I keep these feelings bottled up. I am just scared of upsetting the bottle. That’s all.
I found 2 very relevant quotes.
“It’s sad, actually, because my anxiety keeps me from enjoying things as much as I should at this age.”
“Living with anxiety is like being followed by a voice. It knows all your insecurities and uses them against you. It gets to the point when it’s the loudest voice in the room. The only one you can hear.”
Have you ever thought of running away? Have you ever contemplated about taking a break from your loved ones? (Yes, the sentence is strange, I can imagine some of you raising your eyebrows) Have you ever felt that you needed to be somewhere all by yourself? Even if it was for a few days? I read somewhere that humans are social creatures and it is almost impossible for us to be alone. Maybe it is not practicable for anybody to shun human interaction. But haven’t you ever felt that you need to meet new people, make new friends? That you had had enough of everyone back home and a few days spent with strangers wouldn’t hurt? Because I have. I’ll tell you how I have imagined it.
I am an Indian and I belong to an orthodox family. It is not possible to go out of your home without any valid explanation. Be it hanging out with a friend, or going out for an important meeting, it is almost like holding a conference with your parents, measuring all the pros and cons, how it is going to affect my studies, or whether I should be allowed at all, and so on and so forth. So, the prospect of running away has always appealed to me. (Yes, laugh all you want, I won’t know.) Such ideas always come to haunt me at night and I spend sleepless hours contemplating a foolproof plan, how I won’t be caught at all and shall reach my destination unhindered. If you are an Indian or a half Indian, you must have heard of Manali. If you aren’t an Indian but know of Manali or have visited it for that matter, you must understand what I am writing about here. To those who are planning to visit my country, make it a point to visit this place. You won’t regret it. As for me, I have never gone to this famous Indian town I am talking about. But I will, no doubt, someday. It is a very beautiful hill station in Himachal Pradesh, a state that lies in north India. My relentless imagination and romanticism about this place have been shaped by the innumerable films that have showcased this place.
I tried to make this fullproof. This is how I imagined it.
This is a very romanticised version of running off and I am sure that most of you must have found a thousand and one flaws in this already. But I don’t care if it is imperfect. The thing is, it is nice to have some optimism in life, believing for once that nothing could go wrong. Trust me, I have never thought about this so intricately. While I was writing this stepwise, it felt different, adventurous, as if I was about to do this. It was so exhilarating like I was actually planning my escape. Writing this felt so real, I imagined every aspect of this. Not that I am planning to do this anytime soon, I have my studies and everything, but it remains in the back of my mind, something highly plausible, something I could do.
Just a tiny disclaimer. I should not be held responsible if anyone is influenced by this post and tries to run away from home. This is without the tiniest of doubt, my personal views and I do not encourage anyone who will try to do this.
The Rantings of a Hopeless Romantic (and an Ugly Mind, of course)
In the previous post, I had mentioned that my exams were knocking on my door and I had a huuuuuge syllabus to complete. I finally did the math and found out that I had exactly 71 days left since my final exam and it is high time that I take matters into my own hands. I had mentioned in my first ever post that I was good at making routines. But this time I will make sure that I abide by it. Hence this post. If you look at the image attached with this, you will notice that I have a mock examination on the 7th and that I have added notes for myself. A little dramatisation is never harmful, right?
So, I shall be explaining my plan. Bear with me.
The reason I am posting it online is because, one, I want to keep a track of my studies. Two, I need to start being in control of my life. Three, this is my daily dose of motivation to push me forward towards my goal of scoring high.
If you guys feel that I need to add or delete something or make a change in my plans or want to provide bits of encouragements or advice, or you just want to tell me how you prepare for your exams, please feel free to drop in a comment.
So today I will be revealing something about myself. Nothing much, obviously(my blog is anonymous, duh?!), except the fact that I am an Indian. First of all, this information is important since most of the things that I write or will be writing here in the future is not experienced by the people not residing here. Second of all, this is just another way of bringing my readers closer. That said and done, let me warn you right in the beginning that this will be a long post and I will be ranting a lot. The reason? Well, you will get to know that as you read on.
It is summer in the Southern Hemisphere. It is summer in India. But instead of the pleasant summer which grows flowers everywhere, gives you the urge of going out and having fun, this summer is cruel. The sun’s heat is so scorching, that it dries up everything in its wake. Summer afternoons are absolutely horrifying. It feels like the sun after sucking out every bit of fluid and happiness from your body will toss it aside and will go for the next victim without any remorse. And do you know what’s even more terrible? Living in a home where there is no air-conditioning. I live with my parents and grandparents( as I go on, I will be explaining the customs and practices of Indians for those of you who do not know. I am a college-goer and I live with my family. It might appear weird, but Indians are very family-centric. We generally move out when we go out of our cities to work, study or whatever) and my father cannot afford air-conditioning. The weather’s humid, it is disgusting. Taking a shower every few minutes is an absolute necessity but you might catch a cold which will be even more pathetic. Growing up poor sucks. Well, not technically poor, but we aren’t rich either. My exams are almost knocking at the door and to top it all, I am PMSing. H A H A H A.
The Indian education system is horrible. The university I am studying under has a beautiful syllabus which is at the same time huge, but we have very less time. In order to complete this syllabus, we try to cram everything in, by mugging it up, which does not really give us a scope for research work and getting to know our subject better. There is hardly any application. We dig up notes or prepare them from utterly boring books and at the end of the day we study and try to absorb everything. Since there is 0 application, almost noone enjoys what they are studying. The students might score well in the exams, but when you ask them in-depth questions regarding their subject, they will draw a blank. There are exceptions, obviously. Some interested students totally in love with their subject wil definitely try to study and research more, no matter what. I am just writing about the general scenario.
In almost all the countries you have the option of doing a side-job and earning steady money. Trust me when I write that we hardly have any time. If we do a job besides studying, we won’t be able to complete our studies. Hence Indian students are almost always broke. Thus moving out and living on our own is absolutely out of the question. So I guess everything is linked.
My exam is in 2 months. And my syllabus? You can guess. I have been binge watching movies, being absolutely frustrated with life and this PMS is not helping. Romantic movies help and my hormones are going haywire. I do not know how many of you have watched ‘Me Before You’, but let me tell you Sam Claflin is absolutely gorgeous. Through out the entire movie I was like *marry me* *marry me*(I am not a girl who romanticises marriage but, but Sam is an exception. *DROOLS*). Sam did not hear me and I feel exceptionally sad. 😦 I cried a lot at the end, sobbing uncontrollably, tring to hide my tears from my dad who sitting close by. I do not know whether he noticed or not. If he did, I would be very embarrased.
Pink Floyd and Steven Wilson helps too. I like to switch off the lights and sit quietly with earphones plugged, Floyd overwhelming me. These are the times when I wish I lived alone, with no one’s wishes to cater to and absolutely minimum human interaction. As if that is an option at the moment.
Organising my thoughts and putting it one after the other is extremely hard right now. I wrote this without editing and wrote it the way the thoughts came to me. This is just a way to let it all out.
I feel calm.
This post has been inspired by the series, yes (this is for those who have no idea what this challenge is). I particularly like this challenge because this lets you appreciate those small things that you have in life and no matter how depressed or heartbroken you are, you should always hang in there. Suicide is never, never an option. I know that this is actually a very sensitive challenge, but nonetheless, I am speaking from experience. One of my best friends attempted to take her own life back when we were in high school. For a few days, we weren’t even sure that she was going to make it, but then she did.
So for those who are lonely, just remember, someone is always there, somewhere. Email me if you need a friend or just need someone to confide things into. I’m here. And a huge round of applause to #terrymcnude for starting this. You can visit her blog at https://terrymcnude.wordpress.com/
“Most of the time I have all these thoughts bouncin’ around in my head… but with a brush in my hand, the world just gets kinda quiet.”
-Young Allie, The Notebook.
Well it’s kind of the same, but for me, the world gets quiet when I start typing on my laptop. However much someone is talking, the continuous rhythm of the keys on my laptop keeps me focussed, and it is just me and my thoughts. This is my escape.
It was midnight when I started and now I can hear the birds chirping outside. The sun is rising and I can see its first rays lighting up the sky. The air is a bit chilly, yesterday there was a nice storm. Everything looks so fresh.
Yes, my post is pretty large and I feel that even after that I am missing out some of the important things. But I don’t care. To those of you who have read till here, I want to say that the most important thing is I feel happy because this post has blessed me with a realisation that I have 13 reasons to be happy, maybe more than 13 to live. So maybe the fourteenth reason why I am happy will be this post. Thank you for this wonderful opportunity. 🙂
Every day, at exactly 10:30 am I take the subway to college. I am never alone. Hundreds of people do the same, everyone having some purpose in their mind. They all have backpacks, all of them are in the same hurry, they are in the same compulsion to reach their destination on time. All of us have someone to please, either our bosses or our professors or our families. We have our own deadlines, different fields of work, own workplaces, own lives, but in the very end, we are all so similar. The entire human is locked in an endless loop of a rat race. It feels like if somebody suffers a heart attack and dies on the spot, nobody will spare a second glance. We are just a bunch of robots working according to a same set of commands. Nobody strives to make a difference. Our mentalities have been shaped by society. We are convinced that we should take jobs that will secure our lives and the lives of our families. We have been wired in such a way, that we are afraid to think out of the box. We are afraid that the world won’t accept us and we will fail miserably if we try something else. At the end of the day when we sit down to contemplate about our day, most of us aren’t happy, while the others oblivious to their own sorry plights. We feel sorry for ourselves, but when the time comes we hardly do anything about it. Once, I read a beautiful poem called “Father Returning Home” by an Indian author, Dilip Chitre. The poem is post-modern. Below is an excerpt:
My father travels on the late evening train
Standing among silent commuters in the yellow light
Suburbs slide past his unseeing eyes
His shirt and pants are soggy and his black raincoat
Stained with mud and his bag stuffed with books
Is falling apart. His eyes dimmed by age
Fade homeward through the humid monsoon night.
Now I can see him getting off the train
Like a word dropped from a long sentence.
We are all so different, yet so disturbingly same. Everyone has their own ambitions. But after they grow up and reach a certain age, all these dreams and wants slowly accumulate dust and are stored in the darkest closets of their hearts. The dream of changing the world is housed by millions, but almost nobody can turn it into a reality. Each of them is the same boring individual. It is like leaving your footsteps on the sand. Whatever you do, stays in the limelight for a few moments before the next wave wipes it out. Everything is so routinely, so disciplined that it’s suffocating. We do not make any difference to the world. They just exist, we just exist. We are as insignificant as a word dropped from a sentence. We are too imbibed in the system to be the change. What is the point of surviving this way?
Most of us do not contribute significantly to society. We take, we are pros at taking, but when it comes to giving back, we all escape. Giving back to the world, to the society which has helped you grow into the individual you are is no doubt the best way to make a change and to feel good about it. Just because most of us haven’t done anything yet does not mean that everything will remain static forever. Start small. It is never too late.
Disclaimer: This post is one of my rants filled with my own ideas. It is not meant to offend anybody.
I just have too many thoughts in my head and it’s paining. I feel so claustrophobic you have no idea. I just want to run off to someplace open and breathe. Breathe for a bit. There are so many things bugging me. I can’t place a finger on all of them. But I have to try. I’ll try to be systematic about it.
I am in a relationship where my boyfriend does not understand the concept of space. If I say I need to be alone, he’ll ask me why. Which is perfectly justified I suppose? When I tell him that there’s not really any reason and I just want to stay alone, he goes into depression, thinking that it his fault. He thinks that it is his inability to make me feel good and that if he would have tried a bit harder, I would not have felt this way. I love him, I do, but it’s not possible for me to express that every time. He needs reassurance. He’s afraid I will leave him. His home is fucked up, his parents don’t love each other, they fight all the time, even hinting at separation recently. I know it’s hard, but I am trying here. He’s so sweet and tells me he understands me, completely. But tell me, is that possible? To understand another person just after 10 months? Isn’t he an idealist? He claims he understands me completely, he tells me he understands my need to stay alone, but he just cannot comprehend why. He feels that wanting to be alone is impractical. I’m quoting him “You don’t need to be alone! I understand that you are habituated to this, but you don’t need to isolate yourself all the time! I am here now. I am here in your life waiting for you to let out things, to tell me things so that I can understand!” But OH MY GOD. Why don’t you understand that I need this. I NEED this. Everything is not about you. I have a life, I have my own problems which do not concern you. I have trust issues. I can’t trust anybody, not in such a short span of time. He keeps on insisting that I tell him everything. I have had a talk with him, where I told him clearly that I need time. I can’t do this right away. But he finds ways and means to go back to that. He thinks I am alone and I want solitude because I am sad, and I am sad because I don’t tell him anything. He is hurt because I keep this blog and rant here instead of just sharing it with him.
Maybe he is right. Maybe this claustrophobia is actually because of my inability to maintain friends. I push away everyone who tries to be close with me. Sometimes, I just find a fault with them or a tiny excuse and use that as a reason to not be with them. At other times, it is just the distance. That is what I did with the friend whom I thought was my closest. I graduated from high school but she dropped a year. Initially, when we had the same classes together, and I used to see her every day, everything was perfect. But after my graduation, the distance grew. She reached out to me on Facebook all the time, in the beginning. My replies were only half-hearted. I got busy with life, she tried. She looked back, dropping me hints through facebook posts regarding how we were moving apart. I did not pay heed. But now I am the one who is looking back and begging her to come back in my life. But she has got her friends now. She has moved on. I have to, too.
I’m listening to Ludovico Einaudi while working on my blog. It’s a good feeling, really. It’s dark outside and all I can see through the open window in front of me are the lights shining far away. There is a little chill in the air and I’m on my bed, in my favourite grey pyjamas and the beautiful deep red loose fitting sweater Father gifted me on my last birthday. I am wearing geeks with a black frame and my collar bones are fairly visible. Ha!
The black laptop is open in front of me. One wall of my room is indigo and decorated with black butterflies painted with ink and yellow fairy lights. The other walls are just off-white. The lights in my room are dimmed, the single blue wall giving off a purplish hue.
The lights in the distance are those of towns in the valley, the valley way down below. Straight ahead, in the distance, I can make out the silhouette of the mountain peaks. The sun has just set. The sky is deep violet and the red and orange blends perfectly. The effect is beyond compare. I do not need a person. I make nature my muse.
The house is empty. Mother and Father have gone to a party Down Below. There would be wine, they told me, old, old wine. I refused. As usual. I don’t prefer human company anymore. It’s just claustrophobic. I can breathe freely and be in my skin when I feel no one’s watching me. I like that. I have grown fond of it.
The focus returns once again to the mountains in the distance. I open my spectacles. The distance becomes blurred, the edges soften. It seems like an artist has splattered the landscape with acrylic colours. They are just splashes of colour which refuses to obey boundaries. The black of the mountains blends with the misty purple of the skies. By now, the orange has disappeared. Only the red remains, becoming deeper and deeper, complimenting my sweater. When I look down to the valley below, the lights are blurry too, like tiny fireflies, blue, yellow, pink. Mother and Father must be having their dinner by now. I frown. They’ll be back soon.
The window panes are white. A chilly wind blows. The glass windows shiver. I put my arms around myself, staring at the computer screen. The music reaches a crescendo. My heart beats faster. And then it stops.
Everything returns to normal. The deep red sweater vanishes. The beautiful room fades. The mountains, the valley, the lights disappear. I can hear my parents’ conversation in the next room.