Bits From Life, Life is such, Uncategorized

Let Me Write My Heart Out, Please – A Note To Self

 

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Image source : here

Sometimes, to passively glide through a day seems the most daunting of the tasks. Unembellished moments lie scattered on the path; uninspiring thoughts float around like an aimless bottle on the surface of a murky water body. Believe it or not, life is never an easy ride. Neither is it filled with thorns from start to end. One day, you smile like the happiest being on earth; the next day, your nerves are stifled with the darkest fear. One day, you are at peace with yourself; the next day, you are overwhelmed by the agonising tentacles of apprehension. To not surrender to the vagaries of life might sound the hardest thing to do. But somewhere down the road, one comes to peace with the truth that powering through each day keeping one’s hopes high makes all the difference. To be satisfied with the irrevocable facets of life, yet daring to address the weak ties becomes a necessity. Finally, but most importantly, to live the present to the fullest, whether it sounds clichéd or not ends up being acknowledged as the best advice around.

You might wonder why I would dust clean the decks on this blog saved for personal posts and visit the same with a philosophical post. Well, certain phases arrive in life, when you feel you have hit rock-bottom. You feel uninspired and the days seem unbearable and long. You are left with few options, and one of them would be to take things in its stride, to breathe in and let the moment pass. It is good to do that, but one should also be astute enough to know when to stop being passive and to start taking control over your life once again.

I have been through a passive few months in my life a while back and the hiatus inevitably spread to this blog as well. I was left with no option but to take things slowly, and not to fret over the dreariness of the situation. There were a few reasons for the impasse, mostly personal ones, but definitely impinged with those prickly stubs of professional downsides. I was having troubles with writing my heart out too; every time I sat down to write I had niggling thoughts about how the post would be received by the readers and whether it would sound biased or whether the reader would pick up meanings hitherto not meant to be passed on through my writing.

It took me some time to come to terms with the fact that one ought to write for oneself first and foremost. The judgement stemmed from the realisation that I indeed write almost every time for my happiness and to appease the passion in my heart. That the reader could strike a chord with my writing and at least some of them like what I write is a joyous bonus. And that is exactly why I narrowed down to a particular genre when I decided to write and polish a manuscript of my own, my first solo work of fiction, not surrendering to the irrational hype over certain genres and not being wary whether my book, when one day it comes out, would not be accepted by the mass simply for the fact that the genre is seldom touched upon in the Indian literary scenario. So also, when I finally made up my mind to restart blogging, I was determined to not let unimportant matters overpower me and let me down. No one ordered me to start blogging. I started blogging at my own will. Similarly no one asked me to start writing. Writing found me one fine day, filling the void that had been missing from me since my birth. I feel complete when I write, just like mothers confess that they feel complete after the arrival of their baby, even though they were unaware of the vacuum that had been residing inside them before. When the truth remains so prominent, why should I worry? 

 I have read many blog posts where the writers confess how they shook free their hearts from dilemmas and hiccoughs of this sort. The one thing that definitely carries them forward, or any writer for that matter, is the sheer amount of love they have towards writing and the revelation that if one doesn’t write from one’s heart, the act of writing itself would be vapid, static and short-lived. The conclusions that took birth as a result of much brainstorming have paved way to this post and I am happy that I finally wrote this. 

I sincerely hope I don’t flounder further along the trail writing has so gracefully guided me through all these years. Let me wrap this up with a toast that summarises the whole essence of this post in one line. Here is to many more posts right from the heart!

Before you leave let me ask, have you ever had roadblocks along your writing journey? Do share. 

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Bits From Life, Journey, Life, Life is such, Mid Week Quests, Uncategorized

My Delicious Bait – Mid Week Quests

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There are people who, with utter madness, admire talented personalities. I am not saying  I don’t admire laudable talents, but I am not excessively, fiercely dependent on them when leading my life. Good books satiate me, good music fills my heart and soul with joy and a beautiful piece of writing, magnificiently laced with evocative threads, never fail to uplift the person in me.

But these days, I find myself lend an attentive ear to memoirs – both written and spoken. Perhaps that bit of character has been an innate part of me for long, since I have always liked reading personal blogs more than anything. I am not overtly dependent on them, but yes, I do find happiness out of taking a stroll through the life of another person. I am yet to decipher the craziness that resides in the liking, or if I have company in the form of people who nurture similarity in that regard. Some are of the opinion that such people are diffident about their own lives. But then, what if the act inspires me to be more? In my case, there is a second reason too, to which I shall reach in a while. 

People are different, I believe, and everyone has his/her favourite bait, which quite positively hooks them, feeds their souls and releases them for a better life.

Well, I have a few other such similar nourishing baits too on my list – like A.R. Rahman’s music, A Kazuo Ishiguro novel, an Alice Munroe short story, a Mohanlal movie, a chat with my best friend and so on. But the latest one to have conquered my heart, once I started working on my own manuscript, is reading the writing story of my favourite authors. Sometimes, I might not even have read their works, but their presence – their sheer authoritative presence and their diligently acquired accomplishments, out of the many other reasons, inspire me and I look forward to knowing more about their writing journey. I have been flipping through many such authors, a few of them blogger-turned authors, when my eyes fell upon the blog of the acclaimed author, Ruchita Misra – Blogging All The Way. I read and re-read most of her blog posts and they brought smiles to my face more often than not. There is something surreal about reading the amateur works of a person who have been a success ever since. 

Is it because of she is famous and widely accepted now, that I find her earlier writing amusing? 

I don’t have an answer. But I do know that I have a soft-spot for innocous memoirs and I can read and re-read personal blog posts for any number of time I want. Somehow, they take me closer to the writer and I feel I have been given a huge comforting bear hug by an invisible force. 

I came to know that she too is an anxious person like me and although I never read the blog aiming to end up with a tutorial to alleviate my anxiety, my haphazard mind was pacified to realise that I am not alone when it came to matters such as that. She, in one of her posts’s, mentions about bringing down her anxiety by trying to solve the mathematics table in her mind. Every person has his own technique to deal with his problems, griefs or similar downsides. For me it has been work. But I cannot work round the clock and there are times when struck with a bout of anxiety ( for a reason ), I discern methods to escape from it. These days, it has been reading good blog posts for me. I blog-hop, find interesting blogs and devour the articles which strike a chord with me. They inevitable leave me at peace at least for a good one hour or two, when my mind returns back to the jovial self.  

Even as a child, I used to listen to my dear ones sharing stories with one another – my mother about her work place to my father, my grand mother about our relatives to my mother, my mother about my brother and me to her friends, my brother about his eventful day to me . .  the list is endless. No, I am not nosey, nor am I a gossip-monger. I simple love stories. Good stories. Happy stories. Intriguing stories. Undoubtedly, there is something soulful about listening to true stories. They are flawless and pristine. On the contrary, I hate movies made out of real stories. The tweaked version irks me and I would rather have someone narrate the story to me than watching it. 

So much for my love for true stories. As I wrap this post up, I can’t help but leave you with one simple question. If ever you feel lonely and would like to have a friend listen to your story, you now know who to approach, don’t you? 🙂

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P.S: This post is tagged with Mid Week Quests, a sub section of this blog where I write on a Wednesday, about random nuggets from my life.

Bits From Life, Life is such, Uncategorized

Desirable Chaos – The Tale Of A Hectic One Week

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Last week was chaotic. Too many things happened in a span of seven days that at one point of time, I felt my head almost reeling out of control, thanks to the multitude of emotions that sprinted through me seamlessly. Those wonderful readers who have been frequenting this space would remember how I have been travelling dizzyingly and how it has been acting as a double-edged, bitter-sweet sword for me. You may also remember how I contemplated on moving to a rented house near the hospital where I worked, so that I would be more productive, with lesser amounts of work time and less frequent hours of travelling. Well, the hours of contemplation bore fruit over the last two weeks, when the raucous thoughts inside my mind gave way to heated discussions in our living room, which eventually led to renting the upper storey of my father’s friend who resided at a kilometer distance from the hospital.

I moved in last week and what more can I say, the stay has found the naive, amateur me cooking for my survival. I find the cooking part easy and hassle-free, but the work that comes with it and the cleaning afterwards are harrowing. Perhaps, I think so because I haven’t cooked anything further than a few dishes out of egg, noodles, pasta, tea and similar tiny bits of acts that harbour around the wide precincts of the giant that is cooking and haven’t had to cook the ‘real’ dishes ever before in my life. But I have a feeling that I am slowly reaching there, although I do have mile to cross before I could happily serve my food to those who are brave enough to experiment it. 

I didn’t sleep properly the first day I stayed there, and again it was the first time that I was living in a place alone. For my MB.B.S course, we were accomodated in a hostel where I shared rooms with three other girls. After graduation, I had to do rural service as part of my one year bond and for that too I stayed in a hostel, a YWCA, and those few months saw some of the most memorable and beautiful days of my life. I had three friends who were extremely jovial and fun to be with and we had the best of times, mostly during the dinner hour and during the hour long walk we had through the hostel premises after dinner till the time came for us to retire to our respective rooms. I remain friends with two of those girl, and I haven’t been in contact with the third one, since she got married and moved to Chennai. I lost her number and anyway she would have changed her number too. Sadly, I couldn’t trace her on Facebook too! She was sweet, amiable and used to talk a lot, which indirectly drained the home-sickness out of me more often than not. I hope our paths cross a second time and maybe if I keep trying, I would be able to track her down someday. 

The second half of the past week saw us packing our bags and going on an impromptu pilgrimage of sorts to a temple in Tamil nadu.The plan had been peeking in and out of our talks for a long time and I now realise the best way to make such plans work is to let it rest, when one day you are shaken out of your sleep, panic driven by the same plan and you decide to do it finally for fear of not being able to sleep, owing to a sudden feel of urgency. Is it what people call destiny? 

Girivalam Callender

We had a three day long trip, which saw us hiring a cab and going all the way to the temple, an arduous ten hour drive. Now, the particular way with this temple is that the seekers could par-take in ‘Giri valam’, where you walk a long, hard 14kilometers around the hill where the temple resides , so that you are freed from your sins of a life time. We went ahead and performed the ritual. We started at 4 0’clock in the morning and finished it by 9 0’clock, when we walked for five long hours, with few scattered two minute long breaks in between to catch our breaths. We reached back the hotel and slept through the day and revisited the temple again in the evening. We felt pacified and calm after the ritual and to this moment we find it hard to believe how my grand mother, who accompanied us, could walk the endless sinewy path with almost the same agility as us at the age of 82. ‘She used to work hard as a young lady’, my mother’s comment set my grand mother nostalgic and she sat recollecting those years, around 60 years back, when she used to walk for miles to reach her school and after graduation, to the place where she worked. I sat listening to her awed by her sheer diligence, patience and resilience. 

We returned the next day itself and as usual, the pain that ineviably follows while wrapping up a trip started to bother me. A trip undertaken with the family is special in more ways than one. It brushes the rusty corners of the relationship, lending them bright and resplendent again; it brings the members closer, consolidating the treasured bond that binds them together. 

Owing to the trip, I didn’t have to stay at my new home for more than two days. I will be going back in a day or two and that is when the real trial starts. Will I survive the month or not? My hunch is that I am going to return a much better cook. What do you say? 

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Bits From Life, Life is such, Mid Week Quests, Passion, Uncategorized

Self-doubt And The Likes: A Piece Of Me

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So I sit down to write and I find myself doubting whether I will be able to churn up a good post or rather, put my thoughts into words most precisely as they fleet through my mind. This is not the first time this stump of doubt has left me wondering about my writing abilities. I find the same, old, irksome piece of bone gnawing at my peace of mind, every time I sit down to write – be it a story, a poem, or maddeningly enough, even a personal rant, which I assume, I would be the best one to be writing. Even when the heinous mote of doubt lurks as a shadow in the precincts of my conjuring mind, I somehow make my up mind to bring to life the idea that sprouted in my mind anyway. This has been a routine, since forever. No, wait. How can it be since forever, when the fact remains that I started ‘writing’ when I was 20 years old. Random thoughts on the many inconspicuous nooks of my belongings wouldn’t classify as writing, I believe, even though, they could be the first appreciated signs of the likelihood of spring around the corner. Continue reading “Self-doubt And The Likes: A Piece Of Me”

Bits From Life, Life is such, Mid Week Quests, Passion, Uncategorized

Of Good Conversations And Birthday gifts- Mid Week Quests

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I am forced to keep this post short due to constraints of time, but you wouldn’t mind it as the topic is one that is packed with the sweetest of flavours. Before I proceed, I would like to recall a scene from a movie I hold close to my heart, ‘You’ve got mail’, where the character played by Meg Ryan, after an impulsive bout of speech, confesses to the character played by Tom Hanks that it was the first time in her life that she has been able to say the exact words she intended to say. She goes on to say that it was something she had wanted to experience for a long time. Now, I don’t know if you have thought much about it before, but I don’t usually dissect the conversations I have with my friends or family. I am not much of a talkative person and I don’t make friends in the blink of my eye. Socialising doesn’t come easily to me. It takes hours of cajoling from the aspiring author in me to put up a post on my page on Facebook. I am an introvert and proud to be so. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t discern good conversations the moment I have one. I do. I am an ardent admirer of soulful conversations. I love soulful bonding over a cup of tea or a dinner spent in the company of my near ones. Continue reading “Of Good Conversations And Birthday gifts- Mid Week Quests”