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Creating Something New

I have been struggling with creating something new for a long time now. It’s not that I have a writers’ block but I have stopped feeling writing come naturally to me like it used to. This lockdown had given me sometime to go through my own blog and I observed that earlier I was able to give words to my feelings so very easily but now with overconsumption of content on Instagram, I just end up sharing relevant posts with a caption “Relatable”, “That’s so me”, “Mood”, “Life these days” without actually writing something of my own. Like I share a meme about period cramps when I am having my own periods, I share a depressing as fuck post when I am low on energy, I share a happy dance video of someone else on my instagram story instead of writing my own happy post, I share content about the corona virus pandemic, mental health posted by others instead of actually expressing my “own” “original” thoughts because I often have this feeling that my thoughts are not unique and I had stopped writing for the soul. I do write diary entries sometimes but even my diary writings have become so short and crisp and not long enough where I would dwell into details like I used to do earlier. I feel so exhausted so soon like right now, when I am writing this blog post, I have written barely 200 words by this line and I am feeling exhausted and I don’t feel like writing further and I remember being very good with my expression, I used to write long texts, long letters, long emails and I never struggled with the task of completing my word limit but now I do. Earlier I used to write 500 words in the blink of an eye but now I struggle to write a concrete article or a blog post as a matter of fact. And this has been bothering me for a while because right now I am in a PhD Program, where I have to start working on writing of my thesis and I am struggling to come up with the first sentence itself, even though my guide and my professors have guided me how to go about academics, I still am struggling. So I thought, instead of going into the realm of academic writing, let me first create something for my blog and here I am trying to voice out my thoughts.

Writing is an art that requires natural skill and talent and I used to think I have it in me but with what has been happening lately, I feel it’s more about passion and state of mind as well. In addition to this experience, I am also struggling to find my concentration in reading books, technically, both writing and reading were activities which were usually effortless for me but now they require a lot of effort from my end and now I start writing something, but don’t really complete it and so is with books that I begin reading but abandon them in between and what bothers is the guilt of abandoning my written pieces and books like that. It is that guilt that is making me write this post.

However, what comforts me is that art has not really abandoned me completely, if I am not able to write and read these days, I have found comfort in the art of sketching and photography. That is keeping me sane through this struggle, like

Hum ko maaloom hai jannat ki haqeeqat, lekin Dil ko khush rakhne ko Ghaalib yeh khayaal achcha hai”

I know that the struggle to not being able to read and write to my heart’s content is bothersome but it’s good to find hope in other art forms such a photography and sketching but at the same time I know I missing out on my original essence. The sketches I create are usually art created by others which I simply copy because I am not very good at sketching things based out of my own imagination. However, what is my own is the photography but my photograph of the moon is like any other beginner’s photograph of the moon on Instagram so I don’t find the satisfaction of being unique even there. Yes if I have clicked 2000 shots, about 100 of them would be good, unique and can be dearly called as my personal creation but I still lack that satisfaction and when I talk to my mom about it, she tells me contentment is a state of mind, sometimes, you should feel content that you exist and I struggle with this thought.

In one of the discussions with a dear friend sometime back, we talked about how “Sense of Achievement” is important for our mental health. While it is important to be physically fit, have sound relationships and a stable career for a better life, this feeling of sense of achievement is also equally important. During the phase of my depression last year, I have gained 10 kgs over a period of time and now I no longer fit into any of my clothes and that is a major cause for my personal insecurities. Looking good is very important for self esteem no matter what people say and having gained weight I have become conscious of my body but at the same time I am unable to be regular with workout and lose weight. Food is my weakness, I do emotional eating. There is a void inside of me which I try to fill through good food. So, these insecurities hamper my sense of achievement often. Even when I manage to study well I struggle with giving myself a pat on the back. By god’s grace, I have been blessed with amazing genes that even with weight gain I manage to look elegant and pretty and I am able to pose for self portraits and post them online and gain validation but what bothers me is my own need for validation at times. This struggle to create something new is a struggle of validation from my ownself.

Instagram positivity pages talk about self love, how it is just enough to exist but can someone really tell me how?



Self Quarantine

We are in a global pandemic. Life has suddenly changed for everyone across the globe, the schools and colleges have been shut, people are working from homes and apparently there is a shortage of groceries and toilet paper and what not. This year started off with Australian fires. In India, Delhi saw the worst riots and now this corona virus has shut everyone back to their homes while the earth heals from the kind of pollution it has been exposed to. These are tough times to live in. Everyone you know is worried, economy is in a slump, jobs are not there and you can’t be cuddling with your partner because of this virus so the comfort also goes away. As someone who survives on hugs, at our home, we have stopped hugging each other because of corona and it sucks. Mental health also goes for a toss, no matter how hard you try, in times like these, it is very difficult to maintain a positive outlook. Chakra Healing, youtube videos of spirituality don’t work either. It all seems like a facade. In some random moments of the day, I somehow wish for the virus to hit me and take me away from this life but I might sound very selfish here again because there’s still hope of a better future, there’s still family to hold on to but when depression hits again in the middle of the day, this is the dominant thought. I often tell myself that I have healed from depression just because my therapist said so and I have also been doing normal but who defines normal and what is normal but yeah whenever I see a possibility of death I want to grab it more than I want to grab that job opportunity. Sometimes I feel I am just existing for the sake of it and not really living life the way I would want to but at the same time, there are people who depend on me for their happiness and it is for them I have to be strong. I have often observed that it is always easier to be strong and be there for others than for ourselves. And this self quarantine is just for that, you are forced to think about others and for humanity and for the world. In times like these, stay strong for the world if not for yourself. The world needs you. And please please please respect your health care system, your nurses, your doctors and wash your hands.

See you on the other side of the crisis.


Some Random Philosophical Shit

I find it hard to write blogs now. There is so much content on the social media that I don’t know how to express myself uniquely anymore. Everything that I feel is already been said in some or the other quote on Instagram that I just keep sharing quotes without actually doing the catharsis of writing things myself but today I had to. You may not find anything new in my blog but what you can expect out of it is all things human, things that we all go through at some point because after all, we are all made of the same stardust but we are all unique in our experiences of life and in our own little ways. There cannot be another you and there can never be another me. Me is Me and You are You. Don’t judge on the grammar of the expression Me is Me, just get the point that I am trying to make here. Life has been kind to me lately. After an year of depression, I am learning to love life. I end up finding pleasures in the small mundane things like raindrops, a cup of tea, cleaning my room, writing a paragraph, reading something for my PhD, participating in discussions, going for walks, wind blowing. Ab Zindagi ko Jeene ka Mann karta hai (Now I feel like living life) and I think that is an achievement for someone who always thought about ways to kill herself. Honestly, if corona virus had broken out during my depression days, I would have seriously met the infected people just so I could die but now things are different, I want to experience life as it comes. However, last night was something different. Despite being happy and wanting to live life, I had one of the darkest nights where I felt that I had lost all hope, I felt depressed again and there was a sense of emptiness that made me choke in my chest, I tried to sleep but I could not. And for a second, it felt like I had not healed at all. Like my wounds are still afresh, there was hurt, there was panic, there was jealousy but what made me come back to my normal state was how well aware I was about my feelings. Sometimes all it takes is to be aware of what you are feeling, I think what depression has really taught me is that it has made me so much self aware like I now know what’s happening to me and where I need to stop and breathe. It’s important that we take care of our mental health as we take care of our work because in today’s time, work holds a higher priority than anything else. Some have told me that talking about mental health is a privilege, there are people in worse situations who cannot talk about mental health, they cannot afford to, they just have to live life the way it is without really questioning its premises and I agree but I am a reader of Calvin and Hobbes and following comic defines how I think:

Image result for life could be a lot better too calvin

Calvin speaks my mind often. I feel he is the most sorted kid ever. Anyhow, I think even if I come from a position of privilege, I should try to make my life better in whatever ways I can and sometimes you need all the help you can get, just to be yourself and there is nothing wrong in being vulnerable. I somehow feel that my vulnerability is my strength.

On that note, a very happy women’s day.



Fighting Depression

Depression hits you when you’re at your happiest. The point is that you work so hard on being happy and positive all the time that you manage to reach a happy stage but that feeling of happiness is just not sustained, suddenly happiness tires you out. You try to shake off that negativity through art, poetry, music, web series, trying to concentrate on your studies but at that time nothing drives you and all you want to do is to sleep and when you end up waking up, you feel guilty for not being functional enough but at the same time you still don’t have enough strength to get out of your bed, move your ass to get shit done, you just sit there blankly staring at the wall above or scrolling through your phone, trying to make a conversation and then failing at it too. So you take out your laptop and try to express your feelings out here but then after a few sentences of describing what you went through, you’re blank again and just stare at the blinking cursor about what next. You know it’s not the complete post or anything and also the fact that nobody gives a flying fuck about what you go through because your battles are your own, so you just sit there staring and staring and staring and then hitting the post button in hope for some likes and views seeking validation that won’t last just like the efforts of keeping yourself happy.


What Depression Feels Like?

I have been clinically depressed for the past 4 months and life has been hard since then. I have lost interest in most of the things I loved to do. My concentration levels have fallen too low. There are days when I cannot get out of bed and all I fantasize about is how I want to die and ways to kill myself. I feel nobody understands me anymore and I feel incapable of expressing myself in front of anyone. I have way too many filters now. I feel too fake with everyone I know. Whenever I try to open up, I get scared. I get scared of disappointing people I love and then them leaving me. I feel like I am failing everyday of my life. Everyone and everything says that Love Yourself but I am unable to accept the human I am, how am I supposed to love myself. I feel blank and unhappy most of the times. And writing things out helps but not always. People say, talk about it, but there is nothing to talk. It’s just constant feeling of unhappiness and sadness and lack of will to live. I don’t feel ambitious anymore. I don’t feel capable anymore. Others have more faith in my capabilities than I do myself. They say that the strength is within but I feel too weak. Even sitting up and smiling takes effort. Happiness takes effort. Life takes effort. This is what depression feels like. It’s Diwali and I don’t see the light.


Coping with high functioning depression

Nobody realizes this but I am depressed. I only feel like I deserve to live when I get work done. When I am productive, I feel like okay I have done something worth to be alive. And when I don’t do anything or when I don’t get that feeling, all I want to do is to die. I am not sad. But I am always tired. I am always having something on my mind and while I love pampering myself with expensive foods, I know I am not pampering but filling an emotional void with that cheesecake, with that brownie. I have hope. I know I am not a gone case even when I feel like ending my life preparing various scenarios in my head. A part of me always pulls me out whenever I am on the edge of ending it all. I am not that weak to put a full stop yet. I want to fight because I know I can. I know I have been a fighter. Somedays are really hard, I try to keep myself happy but sometimes all I really want is to sleep for eternity and not being productive gets me into further depression. I feel guilty for sleeping, for not having the strength to work. I feel guilty for having emotional eating sessions. When you look from far, you will find absolutely nothing wrong with me and even near too. Because I am always available to solve other people’s issues and I do solve their issues effectively. I feel guilty for even coming out about it but then I know it’s best I come out, maybe someone will hear me out and help me with a problem which seems almost invisible and all in the mind.


Solo Travels #1

Hello! my dear readers,

It’s been a while since we met. I haven’t been too active with my blog writings lately because for a while I have been feeling that my writings were focussing on the same themes and getting repetitive so I stopped till I had new content and today I do have a lot of new content to write upon.

I have always literally craved solo trips, as a 24-year-old young Indian girl, I wanted to explore the places and just have the experience of traveling alone by myself in a new city and this time I got the opportunity to do that, thanks to my job. Otherwise, getting permission for trips is another ball game altogether, because by nature, Indian parents are overprotective and they don’t understand the thirst for traveling and experiencing new things. For them, living an ordinary life in the comforts of the home is the best gift you could give to yourself. Anyhow, I had to go to Amritsar for some official work and then I took permission from my boss to have few extra hours, instead of taking a straight morning flight, I chose to come back by the night train. I checked out of the hotel at 12 noon and then off I went to explore the city.

I won’t write about my city travel experiences but how it felt to be alone. First of all, it felt extremely empowering to figure out places and itinerary by myself. Finding a cloakroom and keeping stuff there and then hopping about the local places, markets and talking to people for directions and help, it was empowering. While I was anxious too about whether I will able to find the Golden Temple or not, or whether I’ll be able to figure out how to get inside and keep my stuff somewhere safe and do photography too. I was always cautious about where I kept my wallet and my phone. What solo travel actually teaches you is to be constantly aware and be in the present moment which we often forget in daily routine. The mind is constantly wandering, this time it wasn’t. I was too focused on getting to the right place. You learn to trust people and trust the universe. Solo travels look very tempting on Instagram but they are a lot of hard work, patience, stamina, and presence of mind. Mostly I have people around me taking care of me so I move about lost, not keeping track of directions or sometimes harmful elements too because I have someone around but this time I was way too aware of my surroundings, people looking at me, I was constantly checking if I was being followed which I don’t do normally in my own city while Delhi is an unsafe place in itself. More or less, it was scary at times but mostly empowering and I can’t wait to go on a full-fledged solo trip again.

I managed to meet a few kids and locals and had some stories which I shared on my Instagram blog. Solo travels give you people and stories and a human connection to cherish. Here is a toast to all those who travel alone, you’re doing a great job and those who want to experience it, you must. Don’t be too adventurous in the initial stages, explore slowly, build confidence and then go wherever you want to be!

Happy Tripping!


Sailing through adulthood

Hello Dear Readers,

It’s been a long while since I actually came on the blog to write about things and life in general. This post is going to be more random than all the posts before and it’s going to be something that you call from the point of the stream of consciousness where one just babbles whatever thoughts strike the mind. Sometimes I think it’s important to write thoughts once in a while because we are all mad here.

I am now 24 and I am still learning to be an adult, being irresponsible makes me want to behave like an adult and when I feel that I have been too responsible for a long while (long while here is probably just one week of doing everything right) I feel that there is a missing spark in life and let’s do something controversial not realizing that controversial stuff will give me a self-created headache. There is something called “The Political Death”, if you do everything as per the rules and everything goes smooth, as it should, things get monotonous and you don’t get too much attention from people around you, your family starts saying stuff like “Everything feels so nice when there is no turbulence, and you behave like a good girl”, and very often the term “good girl” annoys me more than it makes me feel validated. I have always been a good girl, no rule breaking, always taking the right path all the time as a kid and throughout my teenage years too. I haven’t really made mistakes and sometimes I regret that. I have got one life which I have lived playing safe, never landing up in drama or trouble and that somehow sucks, I don’t have many legendary stories to tell. My mother tells me that I have done enough rebellion, I disagree, I have taken minor decisions of life without their permission and that is considered as enough rebellion, I don’t know how I really feel about that because sometimes I think my mother is right and I now I need to take care of my health, my life, my focus and do things that are healthy, eat healthily, build healthy relationships, meditate and go towards spirituality which is all good and nice things and a part of me really wants to do that and be an ideal human being but then I wonder what will I accomplish after that? Suppose I do all things right, get settled in a stable career, earn crapload of money and get married to a good guy, where is fun? Where is the adventure in life I have dreamt of? Where are the failures after a huge risky step and where are the simple joyful successes after a weird adventure? Where are the funny travel stories? Where are the strange encounters with strangers? Where are those random bumping into a celebrity moment if I all I end up doing is being a good girl and playing safe. Sometimes I feel that I restrict my life a lot by what people will think of me because as someone who was not really accepted by the people around her throughout her childhood, I crave acceptance and that’s why for a lot of times I don’t do what I really want to do, for a lot of times, when I want to be selfish, I end up in self-harm where I am torn emotionally, mentally, physically. I constantly have guilt for doing something for me because very often it disappoints everyone around me and even if I do something for a person A, person B will be disappointed and that sucks. I constantly feel the need to keep everyone around me happy and take care of them while I feel hesitation in demanding that I “want” something out of someone because I always feel that they are not obligated to, which is true. Nobody owes anybody anything. I don’t know where am I or who am I or what I want or where I want to be, but I am sailing through adulthood. And I guess I will make it because I see people around me, a lot of them are well let me not say it, or to hell with it, let me just say it- Dumb, Unaware and Weird Folks who are doing just great in their lives, I guess I’ll do above average too because I don’t settle for average things in life, I may settle for below average men in my life for a couple of days or weeks but not when it comes to life.

Anyway, thanks for reading and wasting your 5 minutes knowing about a strange girl living in Indian Subcontinent with dreams that wander in French Novels, American High School setup, all things Disney and Bollywood. I hope you have a good day.


Confessions of a 20 Something Slightly Above Average Indian Girl

I am just another slightly above average Indian girl who might be called as the girl next door. On most days, I feel that there is nothing special about me while I have grown up listening to the fact that “I am special” from all my teachers and parents. Everyone seems to just consider me as an extraordinary person who can do anything she wants to do but here I am full of doubts about myself, the number of efforts I am putting into achieving my goals, the number of people I make happy because once I was told that no matter what you do in life, on your death bed, you should have only two thoughts- How happily you lived your life and for how many humans you are leaving happy memories.

While I am happy in my life and I know I do make people around me happy, if not all, at least some of them I do manage to keep happy and that is the only thing that should matter right? But that is not the case because I care about a whole lot of many other things which should not be of significance ideally but they are to me. Over a period of time, I have realized that I might not be addicted to drugs or anything that can potentially harm my physical well being but I am addicted to seeking approval and validation from my loved ones about anything I do. My decisions might be completely my own but they are often guided by how my loved ones feel about me taking a particular decision. While I own my decisions and take up responsibilities for my mistakes, I still let my loved ones have a say in my life thinking that they might know what is better for me rather than my own self.

I often feel that my heart is too courageous while my brain is such a risk-averse scared jerk with several trust issues and insecurities that it actually hinders the adventure in my life. It’s not like I am not happy with my life, I genuinely am extremely content where I am today but at the same time, there must be more than this provincial life as said by Belle in The Beauty and The Beast. I know I am dreamy, I know what I imagine life to be with my dreamy bollywood disney fairy tale glasses, it is not that way but I have seen some of my dreams come true, I have had my share of bollywood romantic moments, I have had my disney princess days, I have had my fairy tale fantasies turn into real things and I have seen myself in a power position in my career, all of that  for a brief moment of time. I have seen great highs and lowest of lows and now I am in a stable life pattern which actually makes me feel like an average but I do like to call myself a little above average to keep the hope of my dreams alive where if you think you are above average you might end up doing above average things.

But the more I grow up, the more I realize that there is beautiful simplicity in the monotony of life and instead of letting my heart go crazy, all I should be concerned with is how to enjoy this monotony of routine and climb the ladder in this limiting domain of adulthood because that is what is safe. As Indians, we are concerned with being safe and secure with our future. And if you are a girl, no matter what you do, you are always asked to be safe and make sure that whatever career you take up, it leaves you enough time to balance the family responsibilities because at the end of the day, everyone settles down and has kids and that’s how life works.

How about I want to get married to someone who loves adventure as much as I do, who really do not feel content with the monotony of routine, all he wants is to wake up in a new place every single day of his life with the love of his life (that would be me for sure in this fantasy), how about we both are at the top of our careers and travel to new places, explore every corner of the world and have amazing mindblowing sex with no kids on the cards and keep falling in love with each other without a fear, without a doubt, without any god damn social construct guiding our life and decisions. For once, I want to be free. Free of my own self. Free of my god damn risk averse brain. Free of my addiction to seeking validation and approval. Free of the monotonous routine where every day feels new and full of fire and adventure and spunk and what not.

Or just get me a real-life Bunny from Yeh Jawani Hai Deewani.


Write what hurts, till you get over it.

You come to me in phases of your loneliness and I hold you tight in my arms, numbing your system with a blanket of love and putting you to sleep.

You smile, live, laugh and breathe the next morning and thank me and then vanish to a place where you completely shut me out.

I don’t bother much because I am happy that you are happy.

I come to you in weak moments and you are too busy and I leave a note and leave, you read that note, crumple it into a ball and toss into a dustbin before your  girlfriend sees that note saying “Call me whenever you get free” , you never call back and pretend that nothing happened when we happen to bump into each other in the metro while going to our respective offices.

You abandoned me when I needed you the most and said “I can count on you” when I say that sometimes I wish I could talk to someone about how I really feel over a cup of coffee we shared. I have been lost and distraught but stood up and I have managed to do the same for myself what I do for you, held myself tight, numbed my systems and asked my tired soul to sleep.

You make me feel guilty for doing that and not really loving you because if I loved you enough, I would come to you in my weak moments and I have no defense to your statements because I don’t want to be rude.

Our bond now is precarious one and I leave this time, I don’t stay anymore while I remember asking you to stay on one of the nights when both of us were drunk and chatting way past 2AM and I thought I cannot live without you but I don’t want to stay anymore because I know you have faces and I cannot keep on dealing with your masks  no matter how much I love you.

It has been years now, we don’t talk anymore.

But you still come to me in your dark days, I still hold you numbing your fears and demons with love, holding you in my arms and putting you to sleep. You get upset with me that now I don’t talk anymore with you, now I don’t tell you about my days, I don’t tell you how my heart aches when you leave me the way you do even today and how I cannot seem to hate you even when I really want to. I sometimes wonder what is it that we share? I sometimes wonder why you had to leave me when it is you who still haven’t learned to live without me while I managed just fine without you, I missed you and I still do but I no longer need you in my life. I wonder who am I to you because friends don’t do what you did to me and the way you assert your right on me is like that a lover does but darling we were never lovers. You don’t hurt the people you love, not intentionally at least.

And I still have that question why you had to crumple the note I left you because I remember setting you up with your girlfriend and I remember all three of us being a happy trio which is now a Bermuda triangle where all three of us are empty in different spaces.

I was told to write what hurts because that’s how you get over it., stumbling upon your old letters and facebook memories don’t make me cry anymore but there is this strange sadness but I am not hurting anymore, and I hope you’re happy because I am happy and I really hope you learn to live without me someday.  I cannot be there anymore. Not anymore. Not anymore. Not anymore. You gotta say the final goodbye because goodbyes are not my forte.