To all the guys I've loved before...

    There's something about seeing the people you once loved get hitched that hits a weirdly hidden melancholic chord in your heart. Today marks one such day, for the third time in my life, when I feel a quickly vanishing yet piercing pain in the heart in the middle of my usual doom-scrolling session when I see the engagement pictures of a certain muse to whose romantic rejection I owe the inspiration to this blog and the forlorn beginning of my journey as a poet. 

    For those of you who've seen and known me in my hopeless romantic era, guessing who this person is won't be hard. For the rest, here's another relationship-realisation-reflection post you didn't ask for. 

    This marks the third time I'm seeing a person I was romantically linked with (in the past) step into the wondrous, albeit strenuous, world of marriage. Long-term commitments have never seemed like a good idea to me. I have seen so many unhappy marriages and unsuccessful relationships around me that the mere idea of taking on the extra baggage of 'forever' with another person gave me the jitters. But adamant non-believers like me are often paired with hardcore believers by the creator that sits above us. Destiny played its game, and I ended up in a fling—a rebound relationship, if you will—that has stretched itself for almost a decade now, soon to convert (hopefully) into one of these marriage things that I'm so vehemently against (still).

Image by Bruno from Pixabay

    Anyway, I've been on the receiving end of love, respect, loyalty, and kindness for a long time now and know that it's extremely rare to find such treatment in our generation. I know I, too, would be stuck in the shipwreck of situationships and one-night-stands had it not been for this one genuinely true bond that now colours my life in shades of the 'forever' that I used to be and still am occasionally scared of. 

    Yes, there's an inexplicable skip of a heartbeat when you see an ex enter into a long-term commitment with someone else. Its bound to be weird since you once hoped to be that person for them, but I guess, at some point, you realise that life knows better than your wishes. You may think that life with someone else would be brighter, but trust life to give you only that which is suitable for you and that which you can handle—nothing more, nothing less.

    Today, I'm grateful that I didn't end up with all these three people because one's a manipulative chauvinist, the other is an ignorant nincompoop, and the third, well, he is a Greek god in terms of looks but is known to be a casanova. Everything happens for a reason, and everything that doesn't happen doesn't happen for an even better reason. The key lies in accepting this game of fate, although the momentary instinct is to turn bitter against everything.

    So today, a mature version of my teenage self speaks to all the guys I've loved before and wishes them a happy life with whoever they ended up with. I sincerely hope their lives have an abundance of love and light. As for me, I'm gradually transforming from a non-believer to a believer in marriage and all things family. Hopefully, there's light at the end of this tunnel of recovering from dystopian glimpses of yore for me.

    I now know the importance of people who value you, listen to you, and love you. I began the Guwahati chapter of my life with much reluctance, and it took me almost half a year to realise and accept that even in the slowness, biasedness, and blandness of this city, there's something I can always learn, do, and be. Today, I'm more grounded and grateful for all the blessings I have unknowingly overlooked over the last 3-4 years! Life seems beautiful today.

 

Finding my Hiraeth

    My boyfriend tells me that living with your people in your home state feels different...that there is nothing like it. His ultimate aim is to find a decent-paying job that allows him to shift back to Assam (our home state), and while that's completely okay and suits his preferences, it's not mandatory that I feel the same way. Over the years of being in a relationship and seeing couples around me, I developed the opinion that it takes compromises to make things work in a long-term relationship. And while I've seen ambitious wives willingly leave their high-paying jobs (often higher than their husbands) to raise the kids, I don't see them being exactly 'happy' about it. These women, for the sake of their families and everything that patriarchy expects of women, sacrifice their dreams, their preferences, and their ideal bodies and then go around selflessly serving the ones they love. Three years ago, I was halfway there, with these women, in a place where sacrifice came naturally to me, but not anymore.

    My university education has exposed me to a new class of women—the ones who have it all—families, kids, jobs, friends, freedom, independence, and everything else. I've also seen women with a few of these many things willingly chosen or removed from their lives—job satisfaction and luxury minus a husband, or perhaps a great job and a loving husband minus the kid....and it all works for them; they seem 'happy,' unlike the above scenario where sacrifice makes everyone happy but the self. This post is not about feminism; I have too little knowledge on the subject to write a blog post on it.

    It's a Saturday today, a weekend, and I woke up at 5:21 a.m. (about the usual time). Then, I willingly chose to stay in bed and catch another round of sleep. As is the case with morning sleep, the best nap happened from then until about 9:30 a.m. I was content. I could have left the bed then, but I chose to break the early morning cycle, with it being the weekend and me having nothing better to do and all of that. So, I decided to finish the film I began watching the previous night. By the time I was done with the movie, it was 11 a.m. So, I finally left the bed. I made myself some tea and had it with half a packet of Marie Biscuits (this combo is my all-time favourite). While doing all of this, a thought came to me: I should go out. It has been three days since I left the house, and while the inner traveller wants to step out and explore Guwahati, two very logical problems stop me: firstly, the stupid humidity and heat of the place, and secondly, I don't want to spend my money. So yeah, the overpowering voice in my head that constantly tells me to YOLO it away has suddenly succumbed to reason, and I am simply amazed. This has never happened before, at least not while I was in Hyderabad and Bangalore. I know that reason is the better friend; the proof remains in my fewer travel stories in Shillong. I just didn't want the same thing to happen while I was out there in a metropolitan city so I had made an unofficial pact with myself that for the brief period that I was away from Assam, I would make the most of everything and travel as much as I could, hang out with people from different states, gather knowledge from them, exchange cultural experiences, etc.

    

    But here we are, three years later, back in the home state where reason has a better chance of sustaining itself than YOLO wale feelings. So yeah, I am saving money and choosing not to step out much. My parents were here for two days, and I had to go out a lot with them, but now there's very little reason for me to step out. I have even switched back from Instamarting and BigBasketing everything home to going to the local shop and getting stuff. A major lifestyle change is happening here, and I'm not exactly unhappy about it. But because of all of this and the fact that I'm here for my Ph.D. and that I should be engaged with books and research rather than idling my time and money away on the streets, I have switched to a low-key life. If you follow my Instagram stories and post captions, you'll remember that lately, my life has been very unstable and that I've constantly been on the move. I have prayed for things to slow down, for some permanence and stability, and I have also feared that the stability would make my life dull and make me all gloomy, like my childhood and lockdown days.

    So, this morning, when I woke up and had the mental monologue of whether I should go out, I realized that the fear was materializing. I am stable but not happy about it. Turns out, I was happiest when I was living out of a bag in an unknown land, adjusting, trying local food, making reels and stories, travelling, seeing the world, and just living freely. That I realized is my hiraeth. The dictionary defines hiraeth as 'a deep sense of longing, a yearning for that which has passed.' It is homesickness and yearning for a home or loved place. But having found my hiraeth and looking at its definition, I feel the need to dig deeper into the subject because what I crave is far from the definition of hiraeth or that which my boyfriend craves. He craves home and all that's known and familiar, whereas I find bliss in the unknown, the anonymity, and the fear of being lost in a sea of lost.

    Hiraeth is a longing for a home or homesickness of some sort. But who decides the definition of home? Home could mean different things to different people. Home could be a feeling or a person, too. So, what’s home for me, I wonder? I finally realized that for me, home is any place where I am alone with strangers; home is a comfortable room with all my essentials and a deep desire to travel, write, click, and exist. Home to me is a room and a feeling. Google tells me that this longing that I have for a faraway place is called fernweh and is actually the opposite of hiraeth. Shocking, isn’t it?

    Now, the dictionary defines fernweh as ‘a desire to go to faraway places.’ It’s wanderlust of some sort. While I agree that my yearning is for a faraway land, an unknown place that I eventually fall in love with, it’s also my home. So, could the opposites be the same under certain circumstances? Could my hiraeth be my fernweh, and vice versa? In my case, the answer is yes.

    At the beginning of this post, I talked about how people compromise in relationships. My decision to relocate to Guwahati was something close to a compromise, a compromise not just for the long-term feasibility of my romantic commitments but also for my filial duties. However, two weeks down the road, I see myself deeply unhappy. I know it's too soon to discard a beginning, for beginnings are often rough. But a part of me has realized over the last two weeks that I may not ever be entirely happy with a place again, and I have accepted that too. When has life ever been perfect for anyone? Some parts of our lives are more special than others, and some memories are evergreen while others instantly fade, and that's what makes them precious. Change eventually catches up, no matter how fast we are at running towards the things we love. So my mind tells me two things: either stay back and try to love where you are, or run away to that which makes you truly happy. After all, it's your life—not your lover's or your family's. And then I go numb. The selfless version of me who's now made room for a version that believes in self-love is lost. I am so lost. Whoever said that adulthood is better than adolescence knows nothing. Your twenties are as complicated and confusing as your teens. My friends and I talk about this every day. No, it never gets easier; you just learn to cope better. Even if you don't learn to cope better, you begin complaining less and panicking less; you just deal with sh*t and move on to the next challenge that awaits you. All our loved ones have done that, and we are doing that too. That's how life works.

    Amidst all that chaos, if you manage to find your hiraeth on a random Saturday morning, as I did, appreciate the realization and make room for it without disrupting the rhythm of your present. Life is lived in the little pleasures and small breaks. A lifelong vacation is no vacation; the key to everything beautiful is balance. It took me some time to realize it, but I finally saw it, and I am working on accepting it every day. Guwahati isn't my hiraeth; it never will be, but it could be the place that allows me to breathe freely whenever I choose to visit my hiraeth. So, let's bloom where we are planted and reach for the stars! Let's embrace change as it embraces us. Fernweh or hiraeth, willingly or unwillingly, one must make room for reality whenever it knocks on your door. It's at my door now, so I must leave now. Thank you for being patient readers. Have a lovely weekend!

In the name of adulting

Image Source: SnapwireSnaps

    If you ask me, change doesn't feel good—never has, never will. But change has always been a welcome guest. It's been a week since I shifted base, and I am still struggling to mentally accept this HUGE change that has somehow affected every single aspect of my life. For the first time, I'm without friends in a city; for the first time, I am living alone in a huge house; and there are so many other things I've done for the first time in the last week. Yet, for the first time, I don't feel like continuing. The idea of change has never failed to excite me; however, this time, it feels like the bulb of my life has suddenly become dimmer; like I've come from the summer of my life to a premature decay. A part of me screams every morning, asking me to leave everything and run away—run away to all that I love, all that now lives and breathes in different parts of the country. And then there is the other part, the sensible one, that tells me to shut up and go on with the day.

    Humidity is a killer of productivity. Summers are unbearable in Hyderabad. I've had days when nothing I'd do would help me breathe peacefully in Hyderabad's heat. But things somehow feel worse in Assam's heat, mainly because of the humidity in our air. The constant sweating and heaviness of the air make one irritable and unwilling to give one's best in whatever they are engaged in. This has been a common complaint from residents in our part of the country. Living away from this place for the last 5–6 summers somehow took away this irritable summer memory from me. When I sat on that flight from Bangalore to Guwahati a week ago, I didn't expect it to be this hot and humid. On the contrary, I was expecting showers. But here we are, travelling in the crowded city bus for 3–4 hours every day in the unbearable Guwahati heat.

    There's more than just the weather, my separation from my loved ones, or my unsatisfying solitude that have made embracing this city and this change difficult for me, but I am not ready to talk about it. Perhaps I am ready mentally, but I am still struggling to find the right words and approach to express such a thing on a blogging forum. That's a task for another day when I am in a better place, but right now, all I feel is a terrible void of trying to survive in a city with known unknowns, possessed have-nots, and all things paradoxical. I am hoping for things to turn in my favour, not just for now but on a long-term basis. I know it isn't too much to expect from one's life; it's just that we are a generation of overthinkers. Right now, there is this dilemma of whether to embrace things as they are or keep manifesting that faint ray of hope that has the potential of reuniting me with all that I deeply adore. And what's at stake, you ask? Well, it's my heart on one hand and my happiness on the other. Lucky are those whose hearts and happiness lie in the same place. For the rest of us, it's plain sacrifice and compromise in the name of adulting.

Of new cities

I took a big step by deciding to leave the metropolitan life that I'm so fond of, and coming to my home state - to a place with less avenues, yet people with a more helpful nature. Like any other place, there are plus and minus points of being in Guwahati that the last 24 hours of mentally accepting to be a part of this city has brought to my notice. I'll start with the positives:

• The city is sweet. Because I know the local language, and have so many relatives in the city, there's always security and assurance that I won't get lost anywhere or that people won't exploit me. Everything safe is just a dial away.
• There's Uber and Ola, so if you wanna skip the city bus traffic and discomfort, there's that luxury for just an extended budget.
• Home is an overnight journey away so I know that I can keep going and checking in on the old folks any time I want or any time there is a need.
• The food options here are quite nice and in line with the eastern palette. No more craving for juicy momos and settling for rubbery, overpriced ones; or yearning for Chicken thali and Kaji Nemu and making do with average food and the regular chota nimbu. Food in restaurants is, by and large, cheaper than the bigger cities which again is a BIG plus point, especially for students.
• Things are comparatively cheaper if you know how to live. If you chose to travel by city bus, eat basic homely food, spend less on posh stuff, then this is the perfect place to save money. Although all these apply to any place, this statement is keeping in mind the price difference.

Now coming to the downside which I now see and hope to overcome in the near future:

• I don't own a place here. So I gotta rent a place and that is not an easy thing to do especially in the absence of apps like NoBroker that let you set your requirements and look for a place accordingly.
• If you don't know how to ride a car or scooty, or if you don't own a personal vehicle then daily commute has the probability of soaking up all your productive energy (no metros or local trains here, just the city buses, e-rickshaws or Tata Magics). But yeah, good music on earphones helps. I also feel, carrying a book for a light read, or having meaningful podcasts on your earphones could be a nice way to utilise the commute time. Ofcourse the ultimate time-killer - talking to your parents, siblings, friends, or partners on phone tops this list!
• You can't say KELA out loud like you would in other cities of the country and world without being judged for randomly and loudly uttering the official swear word of the state, and that too being a lady! So yeah, no fun like that. Also, since most of the people you interact with are probably gonna be L1 Assamese speakers, there's no excitement of teaching KELA and other curse words to non-Assamese speakers ( a delight I thoroughly enjoyed during my time at Bangalore and Hyderabad). But this isn't really a downside, this point is really just for me!
• People are judgemental and narrow-minded to a great extent. Although Guwahati is the biggest, most populous and most developed city of the state, our people are yet to evolve out of their gossipy and judgemental mentality. This is not a generalisation but the reality of the vast majority. Perhaps by the time our generation becomes the oldies in town, things will get better, cause my generation and the ones after and just years before us are pretty open-minded, accepting and chill. I make this comment after having enjoyed and admired the anonymity that city life brings!

And a few general downsides include pollution, and traffic. However, I'm here for at least 5 years and if destiny makes it happen, then perhaps for even longer. So I think it's in my best interest to try and see the good in this city that I'll now call 'home.' Guwahati has always been a vacation destination for me. I've only come here on my summer and winter vacations to spend time with the paternal side of the family.

Growing up, I visited Guwahati multiple times but my visits were limited to home visits or prolonged stays at my Uncle's house in Beltola. As a college kid, Guwahati became the transit hub - I would come to Khanapara or ISBT to board my buses to Duliajan. Guwahati was the midway where I would change vehicles from Shillong to my hometown, and so, exploring Guwahati wasn't that readily available an option. There were a few times when I visited this city to hang out with my friends (this was during UG), but even then I was a pillion rider, an uber-dependent and ignorant traveller, or simply a guest who was taken care of by the others. I never felt the need to be on my own ever in this city. There has always been someone or the other to show the way or hold my hand.

Through my travels through life and places, I've learned that attachment to a place is strongest when you know the place well and can confidently travel alone in it. This hasn't been the case for me in Guwahati so far and perhaps that's why the city hasn't grown on me in the last two decades. But I think beginning my PhD here would serve as the ideal space for me to acquaint myself with the ways of this city. Guwahati is the Mahanagri that so many of my friends are genuinely fond of. It's the city that witnessed my father's glorious youth. I think it's fate that I'm here alone and in my twenties, walking the same streets that my father had once walked on as a guy in his twenties! A guy from a lower-middle class family in Nazira once stepped into this city with eyes full of dreams, and he left with so much! Today, here's his youngest child struggling to fulfill similar dreams! Life has come full circle. The question now is, will there be a mutual acceptance between me and the city?

The answer will probably be here in this page, some years down the lane, in the form of my memories and yearnings. But the hope that these memories will be those of fondness, growth and mirth is strongest now than ever before. It's 6:30 in the evening now, I'm sitting at this cafe called Quick Pick in Silpukhuri (entered to enjoy the AC vibe and ended up having a delectable Chicken Roll and Masala Cola), I spent 3 hours in the city bus going and coming from the University today. Room hunting on foot is no piece of cake. I'm exhausted but happy that the first day alone in the city hasn't been so bad after all! Here's to new chapters in old places....to adulting and struggling for the cause of the bigger picture! Here's to beginning life as a research scholar!

The magnificent and the mundane

    Sometimes I wonder if I'm living a lie. Sometimes my life seems too good to be true. You know, those moments when you're on a car ride with those you hold close: there's the beautiful scenery outside, a chilling breeze adding layers to your hair, there's carefree laughter, a sense of belongingness, a sense of joy, contentment, peace and everything else that completes the idea of perfection and bliss. And then there are times when life seems a lie because of all the unwanted solitude, the self-imposed exile, the disturbing thoughts, the weight kept on your chest to relieve loved ones from the pain your words might inflict on them, the weight of carrying unrevealable secrets and sins, the self-loathe driven by under-achievement and exceeding expectations from the self and others...and just plain, painful existence. Both scenarios make life seem like a lie and I don't know why but in recollection, the two emotions feel the same. Like, the good days and the bad days merge to become this memory that life is...it's so simple that I find this explanation futile yet much needed for my emotional release. 

    There's so much more I can add to this, and maybe I will today. Why leave everything to be understood or implied? Sometimes it's good to address and acknowledge the obvious. If not for the world, then at least for the self...not doing so, in my opinion, eventually fades out the thin line between the 'magnificent' and the 'mundane'. So, I'll attempt to track my magnificent and mundane moments today, so that, I know that my existence isn't futile, no matter what the inner insecurities make me believe.

    I'm sitting in a park, surrounded by strangers of all age groups and presumably, different social classes. There's the old couple that's lived life, gained perspective, done their duties and is now out for a walk. There's the middle-aged couple that probably has lived a middle-class life providing for the family and is now struggling with the growing ailments of middle age, and hence has incorporated an evening walk into their schedule. There are countless kids at the play area with their boisterous chattering and antics, the bachelors running hard to let go of academic and/or professional baggage. The teenagers on the phone with their lovers can't be missed either. And then amidst all this stereotypical and subconscious story-formation in the head, while brisk walking to release my own mental blockage, there's the accidental eye contact with a sweet-looking elderly, the innocent smile of a toddler being held from both sides by either parent, the pleasurable checking-out of a good looking stranger and the excitement of treating myself with coconut water after finishing the much needed 10k steps of the day. This mundane seems magnificent right now and I'm sure it will continue to feel the same if and when I come back to this post later.

    The magnificent for me, also includes the kindness I receive every day, the help I get without asking for it, and the compassion extended my way when there's little hope of even being understood. Friends who go the extra mile to make you reach your destination, people who let you inhabit their private spaces and make you feel welcome, so that you may experience that which was probably never accessible to them, lovers who overlook your flaws and make you feel loved despite it all, parents who seldom show affection but manage to get print-outs of you posting about your achievements online, despite their technological inexperience and barriers. I wish I had better memory and permanent storage in my head to remember the countless moments of love and affection I've received lately, but there's nothing that matches words. Words have always been my truest comrade, not pictures, not videos, just words. And of late, I've learned to appreciate gestures too. So, deeds recollected in words are what I find to be the best means of recording the magnificent and perhaps, of overlooking or letting go of the not-so-magnificent (mundane) memories.

    Coming back to things that make my life seem like a lie in a good way. Talk about funny friends whose comments make you laugh hysterically and forget all your woes. Or a home-cooked meal prepared with love, a long hug where you can feel the other person's heart pump, an eagerly awaited text from a loved one, appreciation from a mentor, expressing gratitude for the kindness received, taking the high road and keeping your cool when all you want to do is be as sarcastic, insensitive or mean as the other person...basically, all things that sustain relationships and help them thrive. There's more but I feel content and must stop now. As perfect as the picture of the park I described above is, it is not without mosquitoes, so I must leave now.

Here's to living life despite the moments when it doesn't feel worth living. Here's to cherishing the good, embracing the bad and finding a way to redefine the ugly. Here's to the magnificent in the mundane!

Let's rant, shall we?

 

I have always tried to make this blog a space where the lighter side of life steals the limelight. But an occasional variation doesn't do much harm, does it? I don't have a positive highlight for this post... it's just me blabbering yet again. Happy reading!

I am told that writing is my strength and that I should write often. But nobody tells me how? How do I write on days when I can't even feel things I desperately want to feel? How can I be creative on days when even doing the basic chores feels like a task?

I am blessed to be living on a central university campus where I get to interact with people my age from the entire country on a daily basis. My conversations with some of these people have made one thing clear: mental well-being is one of the most important issues the world needs to address today irrespective of gender, age, profession and other classifiers. I feel that along with driving, swimming, financial planning and sex education lessons, psychology should also be one of the life-skill-enhancing subjects taught in our school curriculum. That way, we're at least preparing people for real-world challenges!

It's mind-boggling to realise that human reactions to everyday problems are largely triggered by their past experiences, heartbreaks, traumas, setbacks and pain. Everyone is healing. Everyone is scarred. From a five-year-old kid to a ninety-year-old elderly....nobody here is writing on a clean slate. We deal with broken colours, faded prints, unclean boards and consequent moods around us. So while we must be kind to one another, we should also acknowledge the fact that we too are human and might come out as rude, insensitive, unkind or mean at times and while that may be unintentional, it's still heartbreaking for the recipient.

I can't go into the details, but lately, I've realised that love is a myth. Love is an obligation, love is a duty, love is a need, love is codependency, love is a habit, love is showing up when all you want to do is run away. I started this blog as a sixteen-year-old girl stuck in tears of unrequited love. Today, as an almost 24-year-old, I realise that the first blog post I wrote here was perhaps the purest form of love I've felt. As you grow older, you realise that love isn't always the romantic image that movies, novels, reels, poems, society or our vanity feeds us. Love is different for different people. Love languages are different and sometimes, in fact, most times, we end up with people who don't share the same language as us. But we don't stop loving them, we just make our peace with the mutual unintelligibility of our love languages. 

Love is routine. Love is boring. Loving is dull but passionate. Love is empty but fulfilling. Love is painful yet the most peaceful emotion you'll ever experience. Love is the poisonous elixir that keeps us running while making us tired of it all. Perfection in love is inexistent. But love itself? It's the perfect oxymoron of all things right and all things wrong.

Having said that, it's also true that not every love story reaches its happy ending. Sometimes, the love we share with one becomes the roadblock to happiness in our relationship with another (childhood trauma coming in the way of our adult relationships is a classic example). Love can become the pinching weight on our fragile hearts that makes us yearn for the 'what ifs' all the while knowing that that picture is never going to be 'complete' or even 'happy' for that matter. This is what happens in modern-day relationships too. We all bring our pasts, and that one ex we regret losing, or perhaps regret never having and that memory comes in the way of our relationship with our current partner. In other cases, it's the expectations of flawlessness and the realisation that 'I don't need to take shit from another.' By now, you must have understood that I've really just come here to rant today. So hear me out some more.

I come across rude, mean and insensitive people and begin to wonder: why is he/she being mean to me when all I've been to them is nice? Anger and bitterness is the first instinctive response to unkind behaviour, but trust me, every person who's gone bitter on the world has had someone close to them spit the seeds of bitterness on their face, or experienced some incident grave enough to impact their core beliefs and behaviour. Grief left unexpressed often manifests as unkindness or coldness to those around. People often don't realise that they are yet to heal from past scars.

So, all this rant on love and pain is just to say the obvious: human actions are always logically explainable and often emotionally charged. At this point, learning the art of forgiving the other and the self seems like the key to a peaceful night's sleep after a day of analysing one's daily actions and reactions! And with that, I lay another burden off my chest, dear reader. I don't know if any of that made sense to you. I'll be honest, I've been cruel lately, rather, fate has been cruel and unfortunately, I'm cursed to live with the repercussions. I'm gradually learning the art of smiling while being stuck somewhere. This piece was really just me getting some writer's respite. Thank you for making it till here!

P.S.: I've recently added the 'Leave a message' field to this blog. So go ahead and text me the things that make you mad, sad, happy, angry or anything today (it comes directly to my mailbox, so no broadcasting happening)! Feel free to drop me a text!

Of Breaks and Rekindlings

 

Living life through the lense of a loop,

Seeing things happening in a hoop,

Pangs of depression followed by

Moments of merriment and joy.

Oh heart, rest not for life is a loop:

Of unfamiliar familiarities it is a hoop.

Growing up, if there is one thing that I've constantly realised and internalised, then it has got to be the process of unlearning, learning and relearning. Those who know me personally would agree that I have the memory of a new-born child. Anything not emotionally linked to my core belief system, gets auto-erased from my memory. The process is as silent and effortless as stealing is to a kleptomaniac! But unsupportive jokes aside, this life lesson is something that I'd want this blog post to talk about. With unlearning, learning and relearning comes an important realisation that life happens in endless loops. I see this as undertaking life's long walk with a hula hoop constantly around our waist. The hula hoop doesn't necessarily keep us stagnated at one position but rather expands our horizon and enables us to walk further without us realising when a round of circling gets over and is succeeded by the next.

Image source: Pixabay

While life happening in circles is a rather arbitrary claim, I'd like to present an anecdote of a particularly dark episode of my life. It happens to be a rather recent development and one that I haven't discussed with too many people. In the month of August, I had gone home, back to Assam, for two weeks. I was visiting my folks after a good break of a year. When I had left home the year before (to attend my MA classes at Hyderabad), I made a commitment to return home only after completing the course. Having outlived my self-imposed exile and also attaining the brownie point of returning home with a "job" (yes, I had joined a Content Writing job at Bangalore soon after finishing my MA programme at Hyderabad), I was back home for a little break from all the chaos. But my trip home got shortened by a very unprecedented turn of events. The prestigious English and Foreign Languages University released its entrance test results for this particular one-year diploma programme that I had attempted in June. As someone who has never been a first-rank holder (academically), the release of this entrance-based merit list turned out to be a rather euphoric and significant moment of my life, for I had topped the list, and could see my name on the top of a numerical list, for the very first time. Naturally, I was elated and hysterical. My vanity was beyond satisfied and I instantly knew that this was God's way of compensating for not getting me into PhD this year. Manifestations of 'not having to sit idle after MA' seemed to be working after all! 

Since getting into academia was the goal from the start, I didn't think twice before availing the luxury of finally putting my Flexi-Plus return ticket to use! I preponed by trip back to Bangalore, cut short on my relaxing Assam trip, decided not to meet some friends this time and get my documents ready for the document verification process at Hyderabad, which was to take place on 1st September. Life's beautiful way of making the right things happen at the right time was making sense to me and I was glad that, I could save enough from my 2 months' salary to sponsor my trips home, my trip and stay at Hyderabad and even my admission at EFLU (albeit at centrally regulated and therefore subsidised rates). My meagre savings from two months were drained but I had absolutely no regrets! Afterall, I was returning to the university that had given me the best of friends and academic awakening. On a side note, I had resigned from my job immediately after getting the entrance results and as per my offer letter, I was prepared to serve a month's notice at the company, soon after getting back to Bangalore. 

Everything appeared to be going as per the bigger plan. I was affirmative that considering that my MA was in hybrid mode where professors gave us the flexibility to attend both offline and online classes and the fact that I was now an 'ex student,' the university, or rather the professors would readily agree and let me join the course after a month (since I had my notice period to serve)! But where do you see stories progressing that smoothly and as per the protagonist's plan any way? A plot twist was just round the corner and since it's me, there were two plot twists! For starters, EFLU was unwilling to listen to my plea, let alone co-operate with the idea of me physically being on campus a month late. I was told rather blatantly by the coordinator that if I don't come and settle down at the hostel in seven days, I'd lose my seat. I was dejected, but took the admission nonetheless. I returned to Bangalore the same night. 

On Monday, I went to office to interact with a rather disappointed and pissed off Manager who both understood my perspective and cursed his own luck for having hired and recommended a newbie who had resigned just two months after joining a full-time role. But he was a softie within, and could eventually see my passion for academics. Then came the second plot twist which can also be called my interaction with the HR guy. The HR guy brought to my notice that the clause of the notice period being a month-long while on probation was a mistake typical to my offer letter and that nowhere in the company policy is it supported. Everyone needs to serve a two-months' notice period and I had to abide by that. It was almost as if the universe was laughing at me and mocking me for being an impulsive, emotional fool. So many emotions were crowding my mind....I got into my dream University for yet another prestigious course but fate won't let me have it. I was mentally out of the corporate world (irrespective of my liking/disliking towards it) and now I had to stay for longer than I had anticipated. I was answerable to people at the office and it was kinda embarrassing to narrate the stupid story of my fate's game. Amidst all this internal chaos was the ultimate guilt of having wasted my sister's hard-earned money in paying the deposit of my Bangalore home and my own investments in making a home out of that room. I had hoped to live in Bangalore for at least a year when I initially moved in, hence the investments in a room and other worldly things. And here I was, planning a quick exit from the city in just four months. After all I had resigned. And EFLU clearly wouldn't let me join late. For one moment, I had two things and the next moment, I had none. With no job in hand and no chance of returning back to academics, the only sane and economically viable option at my disposal was going back home, living off my parents' money and preparing for NET. Well, if you know me as well as I know myself, then you'd agree that this was a disaster plan. I'd be frustrated within a week of returning and won't sit to study, because let's face it, I'm not much of a sit-and-study-sincerely kinda person. I'm a typical spoilt millennial who studies the night before exams, panics, loses sleep and does well despite it all. Naturally, all this was running in my head with images of different scenarios flashing one after the other. I was lost in the realm of possibilities as to how the year ahead would unfold. Things were still fine in my head till the end of my notice period on 25th October. As long as you have money coming into your account and a purpose to wake up to every morning (no matter how excited/dejected you get by it) things remain okay. For someone like me who's always been on the run, the calm nowhere-to-report-to, with no-deadlines-to-meet phase that followed job-end was extremely depressing. Reluctantly, I booked my return ticket home for the 17th of November. The only highlight being my Dad's seventieth birthday on the 18th. I foresaw nothing but darkness in the days after the 18th. My heart ached in ways I'm incapable of describing presently. Small-towners are answerable to so many people once they step into a bigger city. There'll always be that toxic uncle/aunt who'll give you the "Aisa kya ukhaad liya bahar jaake?" look in social gatherings. Previously, none of this bothered me because I have been financially independent since I was 19, but when I left my job this time, I also left all other means of side-hustle that I had (some of these were associations I've maintained for the last 3-4 years). I had a major burnout from constantly overworking myself. My MA Dissertation was a hectic project and I didn't allow myself a break after the completion of MA. I jumped straightaway into the corporate world just a week after leaving University. I thought that if I stop now I'll lose the spark. Turns out, that was a shitty theory.

The mind and body deserve a break - no matter how old or young you are. Breaks keep us going, breaks keep us young. Narrate my sad tale to anyone who professes otherwise!

So, after the 25th of October, life went from a speed of 10x to 0. With decreasing financial reserves, ample of free time and the solitude that comes with living alone in a city came the pangs of much-disliked depression. I had zero motivation to get up from bed because if I do, what will be my next course of action? I didn't wanna look at the laptop screen for longer than a second, hence re-approaching my clients was out of question. I wanted to take a break but this break was becoming a living nightmare and I wasn't ready to be back in game either. I've always been someone who loves the 5 am-10 pm routine and now, I was this grumpy kid who survived on chips and Maggi and showered reluctantly once in two days. Hope was an alien word now; light - an unfulfilled yearning. As the date of boarding my flight back home approached, a good friend requested me to stay back in Bangalore for a little longer and I complied. I rescheduled my return ticket from the 17th of November to the 4th of December (Flexi coming to rescue yet again). I was going through this rather dark phase secretly, always maintaining my hyped-up spirit while talking to my folks. My mum would often ask me on call, "Are you okay?" "Do you feel bad now that you're not working anymore?" and I'd usually say something like "Yeah, yeah. It's all good. Can't wait to be back home." But this one time, around the 11-12th of November, this same question of hers brought me tears. I hadn't cried about this whole episode until now. And that day, I hung up and cried. I cried for like 10-15 minutes. That's when I knew that I was in a constantly deepening pit of darkness and if something bright didn't come up soon, I'd sink.

I'm not a regular prayer but like they say, in our deepest moments of trouble, we turn to God. That day, after shedding tears of uncertainty and helplessness, I took a shower and humbled down before God's door. I asked him for light, any kind of light, but just something bright enough to redeem me from my pit of dissatisfaction and self-doubt. The light came, some five days later. Once again, in the form of two plot twists.

The first being a text from my landlord asking me to come collect my deposit. I had left my apartment before the completion of the 6-months lock-in period and there was little chance for me to get my deposit back. But I had played my word game while writing my vacating email and blamed my early exit on their shitty water supply (which was partly true). So, the landlord was returning my entire deposit (minus maintenance charges of course), assuming that me vacating the house was solely because of their incompetent services. I had initially thought of returning this deposit amount to my sister who would insist otherwise. But I wanted to return the amount to her and lessen my own guilt of not putting her money to the best use. Anyway, while on my way to collect the deposit, I got added to a WhatsApp group and you can call this the second plot twist. I got added to a group called "PGDTE 2022-23" by our course coordinator at EFLU. And 'amazed,' 'surprised,' 'shocked,' 'confused,' 'freaked out' are all understatements to express what I was feeling in that moment. Instantly, I texted a fellow-classmate from that course whom I had befriended on the admission day. He revealed the most unexpected news to me. He said, the course hasn't officially started yet. I was like, WTF???????

[Side Note: Later, I got to know that there were some internal admin issues which delayed the beginning of the academic session for most courses]

Once again, my brain started functioning in 10x speed. I was calculating all the pros and cons of this big revelation and having an internal debate as to whether I should return home or to Hyderabad. My sister's marriage was to take place from our home in a month and I knew that my presence at home would be helpful for my folks but then if I chose to return home, would I be letting go of the light I had prayed for? Am I being unreasonable and selfish yet again or is this something my soul needs from a quick redemption from the perennially deepening pit of anxiety and self-doubt? The chaos in my head seemed louder than Bangalore traffic on a weekday and I knew that my otherwise independent self now needed the opinion of the sagacious father. So I dialled my dad and explained the entire episode to him, mentioning all the pros and cons. He sensed my internal uncertainty but said nothing new. Just the same two words: Go ahead.

I asked for a more solid response and then he said, "Do what feels right."

So I did. I packed my bags (yet again). This was the fourth time in five months that I was shifting (what did I tell you about life being a box of clothes?). I had to pack my entire life and move to Hyderabad within 2 days to be able to join classes on the 21st of November. My slow-paced life momentarily picked up and I felt a smile on my face for the first time in three weeks. That smile was enough indication to tell me that I was making the right choice. It's been more than a month since I'm back at the campus now. I take small steps these days. Waking up on time, taking a shower every morning, eating healthy, getting my 10k steps and 7 hours of sleep, finishing assignments on time, reading for 20 minutes a day, interacting with peers and watching FRIENDS. That seems enough for now. Just two days back, I felt ready to finally re-initiate contact with my long-term writing client and I've delivered one article so far. I won't say I'm 100% ready to hustle again, but yes, I sought light and I've found it. The only objective right now is to keep that light going, in whatever capacity I can. I know I'll be faced with such an intense uncertainty again in one year's time and then again sometime later. This uncertainty keeps coming back to us in different forms, at different times, but we gotta keep ourselves afloat. When the inner spark evades, perhaps seeking light outside helps. But external light isn't 100% reliable. I was lucky that my prayers were heard this time but in life, it's plans and deeds that work, not prayers and pleas. I think, a graceful acceptance of my circumstances and a better perspective towards slowing down would have helped me cope better but then again, that's something I'm yet to develop. I'm working on it and so should you. Our plan A's, B's or even plan Z's should always make us feel in control of our life, if otherwise, then we're on a sinking ship. And that's my biggest learning from this episode.

That's where I leave you today....to reflect and enact. To breathe even when you feel suffocated, to walk even when all you wanna do is step back and lie down.

Childhood is sweet, so is adulthood

This post is about growing up and my perspective on this journey from being toddlers to taxpayers. I'm 22, soon to be 23, and as I enter the birthday month and what will be the last month here at the dream university, I realise that growing up has meant different things for different people, especially those I'm surrounded with. While some of us vibe to Zubeen Garg's epic Assamese song 'Jontro' that reminisces the golden days of childhood, some less fortunate ones thank heavens for ending the miserable period that childhood and being a 'dependent' was.

I say this not just from personal experiences on the journey of life, but from observations I've made for quite some time now. Childhood is a beautiful period of life - a chapter where maintaining cordial relationships, being nice even when you don't like a person, thinking about bills, dealing with expectations, failure, and other shit were out of the picture. Childhood is supposed to be that sweet phase of life where all we are concerned about are our games and grades - at least that's what Garg reminisces about in his song. However, this bright picture is the fate of a rare few and for the vast majority, we grow up to be broken colors that can still be used, but with a lot of care, or musical instruments still capable of melody, but with broken chords that need mending. A majority of us grow up to be broken children traumatised by past experiences of parental fights, disharmony, ailments, violence, abuse, penury, neglect, bias and so much more. What do you think is the take of these broken-children-turned-adults on childhood?

I'd say just one word: DARKNESS. Darkness and light are subjective because what's dark for me, might signify light for another. After all, the opportunities we take are chances missed by somebody else! Darkness, in my theory, is that feeling of helplessness, cluelessness, pain, absence of freedom, clarity, stability, happiness, love, health or wealth that makes us feel like we are under huge, thundering clouds that might soon drown us in an ocean of torrential rains! Darkness is the uncertainty that makes a 'peaceful night's sleep' intangible, it's the grave we push ourselves deeper into, every time we face an overwhelming situation. I can go on and on with my metaphors on darkness but I take it that you understand that I'm just trying to indicate earthly struggles here. 

Photo by Melissa Askew on Unsplash

So, while childhood is that sunny picture we'd all like to have framed in the living room wall of our house of memories, it can just be another ugly part of someone's life. For us less lucky folks on that childhood bit, adulthood is God's way of compensating (or at least I'd like to believe so). You ask why? 

Once again, I'd say just one word: POWER. I mean, don't you agree that as adults we have the power to voice out our opinions, perspectives, or preferences and stand up for ourselves!? Unless we give another being the power to speak over us ( could be a sibling, a parent, a partner, or even a child), the power to decide lies on our shoulders. That's the point of calling ourselves 'independent' right!? Independence could mean so much more than financial, or professional independence - it's this feeling of not being answerable to anyone for our actions and being in control of our destinies. Adulthood, irrespective of whether you're a university kid like me still living off your parents' money or whether you are that corporate worker living alone in a city, cooking their own meals, paying their own bills, and doing their own laundry; is this chapter of life that brings autonomy and the power to make our decisions and take responsibility of our actions. 

I speak for my tribe when I say, that childhood is sweet but so is adulthood. Yes, living with just the worry of finishing the homework or performing well in that Unit Test was nice, but so is this feeling I get every time I make an impromptu travel plan! I mean, can you imagine the joy felt by a girl out there on her own, without having to return before dusk or worrying about who will pick and drop her!? Or the contentment felt by a guy who can take his bike/car and go for a drive any time of the day/night he feels like? Or the respite found by a smoker/drinker who doesn't feel guilty for smoking/drinking or having to justify how it's something they like without having the need for a third party to come and remind of its repercussions? If you are an adult, with some trauma or baggage from your childhood but now find yourself at a better place as an adult then I'm sure you're just like me and feel that no matter how hard this adulting gets, it's manageable and survivable. Nothing's ever gonna be worse than the voicelessness experienced as kids with independent minds being subdued by external pressure. Nothing better than knowing for a fact that we alone are the pilots of the vehicle of our lives and that makes adulthood, with all its day-to-day struggles, an experience worth having and being grateful for.

Everything we do is and should be a personal choice. No child deserves to be the mediator of parents' fights or the subject of an elder's plight/frustration. No child is without a mind and voice of his/her own and suppressing that voice is the shittiest thing we do as adults. Often, parents don't realise this and use 'love' and 'concern' as excuses to sabotage the independence that their children are entitled to, since the day they were born. But hey, that's the best part about adulthood right!? We have the power to change the narrative. We can choose to be more compassionate, empathetic, patient and mentally and emotionally available parents when we choose to have kids. We can choose to be better versions of whoever we idolised as kids, or even abhorred as kids. We can be anyone we want to be, do anything we feel like doing, and just exist the way we prefer without ever having to worry about condemnation from another. I have realised this only recently and it hasn't been easy to get rid of the burden I carried in my heart for so long but thanks to two very special ladies I met here at EFLU, I now know that I am not answerable to anyone and don't need to feel guilty about doing anything that brings me pleasure, even if it's my life-givers. Not prescribing a rebellious and uncaring attitude here, just promoting the idea that the scope of thinking about the self is what makes adulthood different from our dependent childhoods and you may choose to disagree!

Life: An Endless Loop

Ever since I was a kid, I wanted to grow up, deal with my problems independently, be financially stable, and give a lot of presents to my loved ones without having to think of the money to get these gifts. At 23, I am halfway there – living in a city quite far from home, living in a room which I can call my own, paying my bills (partially), and of course, showering my loved ones with occasional gifts and cards. But what I didn’t expect my twenties to be was this huge mess of emotions - a mixture of calm and chaos, and an almost comfortable feeling of uncertainty and unpredictability that makes me question every single decision I take, be it wearing that short but comfy dress, or applying for that placement job in the city I like but with a pay too less. Life decisions are only getting complex, and I have realized that being in your early twenties can be challenging (just as being an adolescent felt some years back). And if I think of it now, the sixth standard seemed so much worse than the fourth, and twelfth was way more horrendous than the tenth, but while in eight, the tenth boards were all we dreaded. Perhaps what I’m trying to suggest here is the increasing level of complexity at every stage of life where we are taken uphill, to our own Everests, at our own pace, with our individual set of problems which we deem ‘challenging.’ Interestingly, all these levels seem like the MOST DIFFICULT THING WE HAVE TO DO IN LIFE until it's done and dusted and we are confronted with the next level of difficulty – don't you feel that all this is an endless loop?

You may be in your teens and be worried about getting into the right institution for higher education, or you may be in your early twenties and contemplating what to do after you graduate (much like me). You may be a person being pressurized by family and society to ‘settle down’ or you might be a married individual starting a family. You may be a young, clueless parent certain about what not to become as a parent and yet finding yourself clueless as to how to be all that you missed in your own childhood, or you might be a person struggling to find your identity without the job, or person you thought would be a defining character in your life – all the struggles we can possibly list, are as difficult as we feel them to be and we are right in feeling that the world doesn’t understand the quandary we are faced with, at any given time. It's all valid, and yet what we tend to forget is the potential we carry within ourselves to overcome each of these challenges.

 

I feel so lost right now because life doesn’t get easier for me (or anybody for that matter): it only gets intense. I’m 23, soon I’ll be out of college and still wondering what to do with my life while trying to be happy at the success of people around me and attempting to console those who may have had harder fates than mine. We are all doing the best we can. I have a million things to say about this phase of not knowing where we are headed and yet being in love with the imaginations we have of the future, the recurring questions we feel upon seeing people live our dreams, and still finding ourselves miles away from being anywhere near that vision. But hey, this post isn’t about me or my realizations, it's neither about you, it's about life, and its consistent attempt at making the puzzle more and more complex for people - for you and me.

The complexity shall remain but learning the art to smile between those difficult hours, rediscovering ourselves, and finding a sense of contentment with how far we’ve come and where we are headed is what the objective of this maze is. Life’s maze ends when we die, but until then, all those days that feel shitty, when the world seems boring, and our chores seem pointless, when people seem mean, and loved ones sound annoying  - all these nasty days are to be heaved out. I’ve realized that breathing these dark days out is the key to reaching all those hopeful days when we feel like we have achieved what we wanted to, or found answers to the questions that always bothered us. And if reaching that optimistic feeling means taking a step back, re-learning a lesson we might have forgotten, re-working on our basic values, or going back to a mechanism that previously worked for us, then what's the harm in taking such a step back, right!? After all, reaching our Everest isn't always about taking steps forward, sometimes, a step back can become the push needed to take ten steps ahead!

A Year Wiser?

As I'm adding more years to my life, certain things are becoming clearer and certain others have lost all meaning. Growing up is tricky business and I've realised that what we deem to be our fate or the best that's available out there, may just be a limitation we have set for ourselves fearing the loss of the ever-so-comforting comfort zone. Take my definition of friends, best friends and love interests for example - I know this is a vague example since I'm not presenting any context but hey, you're growing up too, this will surely make sense someday. So yeah, about friends, best friends and lovers. Why do taunts from friends about the way you look or being taken for granted by lovers have to be normalised? Why can't we point out a toxic behaviour as toxic on its face and move ahead? I'm sure the bold readers are shifting in their seats thinking, 'What is with this girl? Why is she generalizing her inability to speak up against misery?'

Well, you see, not everyone possesses the audacity to call a spade a spade. Fortunately, I have a sister who possesses what it takes to confront people and I'm slowly learning from her. I recently told one of my oldest friends (and someone I thought to be a dear friend) to fuck off and stop with her body shaming. I said: look, I'm aware that I'm putting on weight, you don't need to remind me of that every time you see me or a picture of mine. Yayyy. There are no words to describe the joy I felt after finally saying that to her after years of being referred to as a 'hog.'

So, as I was saying, growing up helps us set our priorities right. Over the years I've seen people not so serious about life or with low morality become dedicated professionals and honest comrades and that's because they have had a change of perspective along the way. Not that being impulsive is bad, I am one impulsive kid myself but what I'm hinting at is the inner journey we all embark upon at one point in our lives.

I finally came to the EFLU campus after a year of online classes and I cannot tell you how much learning, unlearning and relearning I do here everyday while communicating with my peers from across the country. This change of place is doing me good and I feel like I'm becoming more appreciative of whatever I've accomplished which is very important to achieve all that I wish to attain. My inner circle here comprises of three very positive people and they have taught me so much along the way. I think its important that we read people just like we read books, so that we can pick lessons from their journey. Doing this has helped me develop an opinion about many things which I earlier passed off as too technical for a mind like mine. I lived in oblivion before and now that I'm letting my guard off, I see that there's an ocean of knowledge that I'd been denying for the last few years. Life is really short to experience and learn about all that this world has endured. But with a little zeal we can cover a significant amount of this and perhaps that's my resolution for 2022 - to keep the thirst for knowledge alive! Here's to bettering ourselves everyday and getting rid of whoever and whatever brings down our morale!