Of Age and Expectations!

Growing up is never easy. Being an adult, we ought to give up so much. Not to anyone in particular. But to life. The dark circles of an inch size, wrinkles caused due to constant worry, pale face with not an iota of natural glow. Grey hair. Permanent state of tiredness. I am always tired. Tired of work, of travelling hours in metro, of worry, of thoughts and anxiety, of complaints. Of fighting with myself and my thoughts. How much an exhausted person could fight anyway? I feel I will give up. Very soon. This world consumes a lot of my energy. And I am not ready for it. Maybe because I have no energy left, with all the struggle and the fights with the world. There is no progression in my thoughts. No broadening of perception. No moving forward. My energy gets waste in things that hold no value. That shouldn’t hold any value. This is the least I expected from life. Could this be because of my surroundings? Coz I am not surrounded by people with whom I could talk about life, about something productive. I don’t look at the moon anymore. I look at my face into the mirror. And I feel, I feel nothing. Numb. I want to ask myself where I am heading towards. But I don’t. I can’t. Coz my mind is not healthy enough to ask such questions. I feel with age, I am not learning anything that would help me to grow as a person. I am tired of all the negativity around me. Usually, I just step back from such people and surroundings. I maybe a loner. But I have been a hopeful person. Not enthusiastic. But a little hopeful. That life will be fine. If not good or best, it will be fine atleast. Now. Now I don’t claim any such thing. I cannot think about life anymore. Or maybe, I do not have the stamina left to think about life, myself or anything else. Do you think it’s worth it? A life like this? I want to read though. Read and travel. I wanted this year to be full of books and travel. And I could do none. No explanation. No excuse. I just couldn’t.

With this year coming to an end, I am not hoping anything bright and beautiful next year. I am not. Coz this burden of expectation ruins a lot of things. I just one want thing. That may this year never repeat itself, not even in bits and pieces.

October Sky!

October in Delhi is not so October-y. Mornings and Nights are comparatively breezy though. But days are hot. Feels like June. However, there is this strange emptiness during the afternoons. Like the day loses its soul during the afternoons. I feel a strange void. Sometimes I feel a sense of shiver down my spine. My hands feel cold. My legs feel weak. And my mind….my mind feels numb. Numbness is the lack of feeling though. I could feel the numbness. I find it hard to type, to see, to speak, to hear. And this anxiety. This anxiety of what is going to happen next. The uncertainly. The excitement. The rush. The scary feeling.

Last year this time, I was busy shopping for my wedding. And I remember feeling the same thing that time too. Does this happen every year with me? I don’t remember. This is the third year when my life is undergoing a major change during this time of the year. Do you think this maybe the cause?

Last night I couldn’t sleep. I twisted and curled but I just could not sleep. Could this be a kind of hangover for last night? My mind feels restless with no sign of calming down. I just need to calm down. Sit quiet for some time and think nothing. Is it that tough? To calm your mind and your body for few minutes?

Is it because of the hormonal disease? Or is it just psychological? I want to believe in the former. I could treat it atleast. I have to. People may not understand the changes I am going through. The havoc this disease is causing in my physical and mental being. But atleast I know the reason if it’s not psychological.

What else could a person like me hope for? A reason to know the insanity within.

Sex, City and the world around!!

When I started my journey with Sex and the city, it was not with the season but with the movie. I watched all the parts in a day. I was fascinated and thrilled. I loved each and every character. I could relate to Carrie and at times with Miranda as well. I was the one who was looking for love and I am not ashamed to accept that. While Charlotte was always sweet, I was blown away by the strong and charismatic Samantha.

Then, I started watching the series. And, oh my God! I thought back then, that this is the perfect kind of life. I, my friends and the love of my life (after going through all the wrong ones of course). The heartbreaks, the personal challenges, the traumas and the ups and downs of life. Everything was so real and I lived with them. I roamed around the streets of Manhattan with them. No, they are not perfect. Nothing was perfect in their life. And that’s exactly what I loved about them.

I have never been a fan of Indian television, except for some exceptionally good soaps which used to watch when I was a kid, which I re-watched while growing up. Else, I think series like FRIENDS, HIMYM, Grey’s Anatomy, Sex and the city has taught me more about life than anything else. I was a lil uptight person (I still am) but with that, I started accepting things. I started accepting that closing your eyes does not mean that the thing does not exist. It broadened my perspective towards life. Towards relationship. They (all the above states series) have always bring me back to life when I was low and when I needed some advice. It taught me that I am not alone battling with this life and that no matter what…life must go on.

When Samantha found out about her cancer, When Derek died, When Monica broke up with Richard..it was a lesson, that you must fight back and fight hard.

Yes, the society, the people are very different. I live in a country where every other person is judging you. Where people are more interested in your life than cleaning the shit in their own life. When people have all the time in the world to sit and gossip about every other person. But then, like Samantha once said “If I worry about what every bitch says about me, I’d never leave the house”.

People will always put you down. “What are you wearing”, “Look you have so many grey hair”, “She is so arrogant because she earns”, “She can’t do household work”, “She is way too educated”, “She must slow down coz she’s a women”. Well, yes my dear friends, it is just a tip of an iceberg. These statements will keep on floating from the people who could not do anything with their own life. And yet, here you sare, with a glass of wine (Which by the way your husband or your papa didn’t pay for :P ) and a smile on your face, listening to these losers and saying “I am not a type of a women who sits all day at home waiting for a Man”.

You should never be ashamed of who you are. Never feel bad because you are earning more than your husband. Such thoughts only comes in the mind of insecure people. Never feel guilty because you cannot do household work. You have a 12 hours demanding job to do. Be demanding. As long as you can pay your own bills, it doesn’t matter. In a relationship, it is not only husband’s duty to work their ass off so that you could swipe his hard earned money. It is your relationship too. And no matter what the world says, always be independent and demanding. Coz that’s your right. And nobody could take that away from you. Do not be ashamed to accept your success. Do not hesitate from accepting how proud you are of yourself. You are here coz you worked hard for it. You are successful, coz you have gone through worse. Let people hate you. This means you are doing something that they can’t do. Breathe. And Move on.

Year gone by!

It’s been really long since I stopped writing. Not that I don’t want to. I feel this urge to write and just vent it out. But life has been busy. Busy with so many thing. With changes. With marriage. With job. And with myself. I open the page and I just go blank. I think I have lost my capacity to think. Or maybe I just don’t want to think anymore. Coz the more I think about the past year, the more I want to run from it.

Few days back, one of a friend said why I over-analyze things. That got me thinking, that do I really think this much? Now that I really don’t want to. I run from it. But, you know what. I was wrong. This is me. This is a very essential part of my being. That I am sensitive to few things. That I do think. And I can’t separate that part of me from myself. I don’t want to. I would prefer living without people who cannot handle or accept the way I am. But I will not lose the very essence of me.

Coming back to writing. I just want to get back to that phase of my life where I would just wake up in the middle of the night and write it down my thoughts and never read it back. Today, I re-read my old posts, thinking, how I could just write all the things going through my mind. Why is it so tough now? Why I could not get the things out of my mind and my heart. Why words fail me everytime I want to write?

I am hoping this phase will pass soon. I hope things get better within me. I hope I could train my mind better and just listen to my heart. Year has passed but I am not myself.

And since I am out of words, I am concluding this post abruptly.

Raina!

She has those lil dreams..you know. To have a home …to have a huge shelf full of books. To have flowers and plants all over her balcony. To wake up and drink her first cup of tea amidst the silence of those small little plants. A home she could decorate and nurture with her love. She wanted her home to reflect her soul. She never wanted expensive cars….diamonds… gifts. She was never like that….she was capable of buying all those things herself..yet she never did. Coz this is not what she wanted from life. Never.

All she wanted was a house she could call home….someone she could love and be loved…late night conversations with someone who could understand her with a glass of wine. Conversations that could touch her soul and make her feel alive. She wanted to travel but never expected to live in 5 star hotels. At this point of time…all she wanted was peace.

But life is not fair. It is not fair with anyone and this is what makes it fair…I guess. She was ‘she’ for herself. The idea of being her was limited to her own self. The world never gives a damn..you know…to who you are. That’s how it works. But, she never understood this concept. She always thought that one day she would find a world full of love and harmony and peace. Little did she know, life had other plans for her.

Her passion left her…her desires failed her. Day by day…she became someone she could not recognize by looking into the mirror. She would wake up at night and pray! Pray to some god, she never believed exist, to end this. To end the nightmare and take her back to the time when thinking about the future excites her. What was wrong..she was never able to get an exact answer. All she knew was she was not happy. Or maybe..being happy is a concept. She was not herself. Yes, she was not herself. She could not feel the happiness. It was just never ending melancholy she could feel. Like a deep hole in her heart. A heavy weight that kept in increasing.

Sometimes, she wish to have a place where she could scream. Scream and just let things go. She is still waiting for it….to scream and let tears flow down her cheeks and just let it go……

Hiraeth!

I turned 28 this Wednesday. 28 years of existence. When I left home, I was 22. I couldn’t wait to leave home and have a life of my own. I never felt settled when I was there, always looking for something. Something unknown. I used to feel suffocated at times and wanted to run away. For no particular reason. I have had a very liberal upbringing. Always taking my own decisions. My privacy was never hindered. My friends were never judged. I could go anywhere I want, eat anything I desire for. Yet, there always exist a sense of isolation. As if the place I used to call home was never actually ‘Home’. I thought maybe this is temporary. Maybe things will get fine once I’ll leave this city.

And I did. In March 2011, I left my city in search of a place I could relate to. I visited a few places in India. I went abroad. But I never felt settled. I changed apartments but again the void was there. Everytime. In every place.

In these five years, or rather 28 years, I have been looking for ‘Home’, but failed everytime. When I visit my hometown, I just want to come back. I feel incomplete there. The moment I reach here, I just want to leave this place and go back. But ‘back’? Where? I never understood. I think I never will.

I realized that I have been looking for a place that never was there. And I think I will keep looking for it. Coz no matter where I go, no matter where ever I’ll live, I will never be at home.

There is a word for it in Welsh. Hiraeth”.“A homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was. Isn’t beautiful? This word. Hiraeth!

Art of Sharing!

I always had someone by my side to share my woes…my heartaches…my stories. I was good at it. Sharing things but keeping a lot to myself. People who were there used to think I have opened my heart out to them. But that wasn’t the truth. It could never happen, me opening my heart out to anyone. ANYONE. Though I was good at keeping secrets…I still am. I was confidante of many…there were few who were mine..but never knowing the whole story.

I never wanted anyone in specific in my life. It’s just that I have never been alone. Specially after I started my graduation. There were lovers, more than friends…un named relations. I have had them all. With few I connected like anything. But as they left, the power of me sharing my stories reduced. I never missed anyone for long enough to not let someone else enter. ‘Missed’, I guess is a wrong word here. I missed them all, I still do at times. Rather I never needed anyone. Coz I always had someone.

It may sound selfish or mean or whatever, but that’s the truth. Not every person is there for emotional support…nor for physical one. Few are/were there only for conversations. I have lost my ability to keep a conversation going. I feel I get bored…or I bore people. Either way, I just can’t keep the conversation going. It is not pity…not misery..it is just the way I have become.

I want to live alone…sleep…watch sitcoms after sitcoms…eat good food…and just be alone. I don’t like people asking me what has happened to me, or why I am angry all the time. It’s because people make me so. They make me angry. Maybe because I could not connect with anyone. I can’t talk. Not that I don’t want to. I just can’t.

So, yeah. That is, it. From bad I have become worst with sharing. And I do not regret it. Just that feel alone at times. But I guess that is okay!