Teenage Conundrum

Mr.Blob is this dusty spot on the lens of my specs who is situated at an angle of elevation of forty-fucking-how-did-you-get-here degrees. He gets a real kick out of playing pee-ka-boo at obstructing my vision and sometimes getting on my nerves by making me squint to see properly. With time, I got used to him. I let him stay on and he became a part of the lens. On good days, when the sun rays hit Mr.Blob in the right mood, there would be a kaleidoscopic glare that I claimed to hate but if I were being completely honest I liked it quite a bit. Today, I picked up a cloth and an optical lens cleaner and wiped my lens clean, bidding goodbye to Mr.Blob. Having put this off for so long and so often, I must say this goodbye was long overdue. During the bus rides back home in the night, from project classes in final semester I would think about it frequently, this word, this degree, this designation – Engineer. It’s hard to explain the feeling it evoked. There was sure to be a h...

Toss. Turn. Blink. Breathe. Stare ahead. Surrender. Parched lips. Pitter Patter. A slap in the face from a pillow that got tired of drying tears aroused the screams I had silenced. They came together imitating Edvard Munch’s famous painting The Scream and in a stern voice whispered words in a language I alone understood – “ Be. Beyond the reach of the ordinary.” Here she is now, writing about the ordinary. Lost in the vast sea of thoughts lapping the folds of our minds, going on and on as life goes on, some ideas come through in re-iterated waves of déjà vu, others don’t make it to the shore. I like to imagine them in a circular room that is whiter than the purest white you have come across, the squeaky clean glass floors reflecting glittering lights from the chandelier above. There are identical wooden doors with intricate sculpturing all around the room , locked away behind each door is a lost trail of thought. Who do these trails lead to ? The guy in House Gryffindor ...

Not black, not white. On a greyscale, A shade more on the darker side. Light hearted clouds in camaraderie, out for a cotton candy break. Condensed molecules of vapour no longer weighing them down. A drop that claimed to be distant fell upon a leaf who believed his claim. Sparks of callous connection trudged deep. How, why, what or when are questions for entropy (to answer). Entropy - who took on the role of Cupid, for an evening. He resigned that post, that very night. They began to dance, a slow waltz. Orchestrated by winds - carefree and young. The raindrop making his way through her veins. Wondering if they were real, she gazed into his eyes. In the drop was a reflection of a different time. He had stopped listening while her insides were still singing. As unexpectedly as he'd come, he left too. Slipped away with the ease that fluids do. The leaf tried to justify her drop. ( hers, was he ? ) She did, for quite some time. One day she took off ...

The first thing that caught my attention today morning as I was parking my vehicle near yoga class ( my dad threatened to stop paying for dance lessons unless I joined yoga. Only happens when you're an Advocate's daughter.True to the bone. And am so grateful he did that cause two or so months hence, I can't imagine starting my weekdays any other way ) were these three puppies huddled together, dozing off in a shallow pothole, drawing warmth from each other. I can tell they have already grown since that one time they chewed the laces of my shoes and dragged one of them away to the middle of the humble tar free ground they inhabited. Rest of the day progressed with glancing a few poems , reading few others and off I went to make changes to the project report that always seems to need changing. Fast forward to the part where it was raining on my way back from dance class ( favorite part of the day. Duh ! ). I chose to drive home in the rain why ? I lack patience and am ...

At 9:00 pm today, results of Wing word poetry prize was announced. I had sent in what I considered three of my best works - Drapetomani, Human and Winds. I didn't win or make it to honorary mentions even. I scrolled and scrolled again, just to be sure you know. (Like that would magically put my name on the list) Next few minutes, I gulped down dinner hardly registering what am eating ( those close to me would know that's saying a lot my fastidiousness considered) , digestive system busy doing it's thang. The human body is thing of beauty, no ? Imagine having to consciously chew, forcefully swallow AND deal with an emotional breakdown at the same time. Staring at my favourite ice cream, I swirl the spoon till it (the ice cream) is liquefied. My mom had to intervene with her consolation and reassurance but those tears came down like a downpour on a summer evening, a necessary relief from the heat. Why am I being such a baby about one silly competition ? Frustration...

Deep and darkening galore of dilapidated sheds. Treading on diligent dullness, lives the man I call master. The grass on his side greener, the smile on his face familiar. Whiff of fresh paint. Built on an elevation is his decadent abode. To the door ajar, do my bovine eyes wander. “...a flood hits northern parts of...” “...but I still love you...” “...new version is available for just Rupees...” Disrupted voices boom from channels being switched listlessly, on a TV aged six. Here comes master says Dhena, the milch cow. Tethered to a pole, I am. Master's will, the halter around my neck. I am. Here comes master dragging along his baggy clothes. Here comes master wearing a hat as old as him. Circles I draw. Confined by certain circumference, I draw. Defined by length of rope of master's choosing, I withdraw. Babhru's ruminating. Wasn't much of a talker, that one. His kind, the ploughing ones usually aren't. Master's limp...

[Around 10 pm,  28th November] When I woke up today, I had a list of things to do written on a flimsy sheet of paper with not so flimsy determination from the night before. As of tonight, I haven't crossed off one thing from that list. And here I am. Have you ever sat on a roof top, breathing easy and looked up taking in the immensity of the sky ( a sky taking a new birth with every sunrise, a sky vanquishing the dreary day with every sunset, a sky full of stars that commands the curiosity of artists, scientists, philosophers, preachers and all human kind alike) simply delved in the questions not really seeking answers ? Nothing like the cosmic perspective to shy away from the mundane.  So, my grand plan was to watch the night sky to derive inspiration except it's really scary to be on the terrace at this hour and I chickened out. Don't laugh. Try doing the same , you 'll know. xp [Around 11:30 am, 29th November] One month left in 2016, going t...

The grey lines on the tar road whizzed while racing along with darker grey wheels of the college bus. We were travelling on a flyover, in a giant metal contraption controlled by a circle and a few foot buttons. Approximately fourty odd lives at the mercy of one bus driver.   There was a brief talk about a change of principal. A buzz that surfaces every now and then only to be doused by the perpetual presence of that short , skinny man in an ill fitted suit  ( my friends like to call him Rat – Face) . He was appointed  princi during the inception of our great institution (or so some would claim ) in 2001.  15 years a Principal. 15 years a dictator. See what I did there ? :p Noo? Poor joke? Okay. Anyway , I stayed immune to all this seated by a window. Immersed in the last few pages of The God of Small Things by Arundathi Roy. We are all gods, clinging to the small things. And the big things as the narrator says ‘ever lurked inside’ I reached the last ...

Our brain, it is this amusing, beautiful , complex organ. You are looking at your mobile or laptop screens and are able to read this text. Not just that you are able to comprehend what you are reading. None of this would be possible if not for our brains sending and receiving signals. The brain functions as a coordinating centre…of sensation , intellectual and nervous activity. Do you ever wonder if the brain gets tired ? Or think “Is my brain healthy?” That is where mental health comes into the picture. Mental health includes our emotional, psychological and social well being. It affects the way we think , feel and act. It also determines how we handle stress, relate to others and make choices. When I see a bird gliding in the clear blue skies, I wish that I could fly too. Someone else may take a picture of that bird and instagram it. If it were Newton observing the bird, he probably would ‘ve thought “Why is the bird not falling down due to gravity?” We are se...

I waded through corridors looking for signposts to somewhere I belong. You held the one directing me back to myself. And there I found my peace. On one of those days when nothing made sense, the pettiness and futility of it all threatening to pull me down, You held me up. Plead with me to hold it together. And there I found my strength. With the lights turned off My thoughts turned on You lie next to me singing lullabies. And here I fall asleep. Through the fleeting glances and blurring images, You are a mosaic I always see. And here I paint my beautiful smile. You are Confidence. You are that part of me I confide in. Confide in confidence.

Feet buried in prickly sand, he sat. Waters of the sea stared back at him. They were his oldest friend, his warm comfort of familiarity. Until one day came the floods, wrecking his house to a pile of rubble, tearing apart his family. He returned of course, to meet again; Grey net held in a tight clasp. Being a fisherman was all he knew. It was all he was. Books with thick spine and emptied refills. For the longest time, her grades were how she measured herself. Today, she can’t help but laugh at herself. She looked up earnestly at the countless stars twinkling above. This new year she longed to wish her father first. ‘Martyred’ is the word they used. An eight year old might not have known what sense to make of it. And yet, as the tricolor wrapped coffin was lowered, the girl stood in front, tears rolling down soft cheeks, at attention, hands folded in a stiff salute. Cackling in merry, the baby held his finger, with two delicate hands. What mo...

The illusion of the sun setting on a summer evening became the character of a canvas mounted on a stand by his window. Rohan had a room with quite the view. There was something about today’s sunset that aroused our abstract artist’s deep rooted passion. He got to work. Each stroke of his brush infusing colours (be it dull , be it vibrant ) onto the woven fabric as his skilled hands moved in harmony with his thoughts.                                                      ***** The old man sat on a park bench after walking five rounds along the circumference of the park’s circle of grass ; outlined by a bed of flowers, its centre was marked by a tall tree standing sturdily in solitude. Lasya occupied the only bench th...

On rare evenings of fervent flamboyance, Sun shines oblique. Divides leaves in dark, in light, into patches, in green. A plane flies in the skies, that the bird glides... Feathers of black and, white dabbed at the tip of its wings. As music shuts out all noise, I see. Your eyes searching when am swaying, in directions unknown. The sands levitate as I touch ground. I can see you, wondering and then, you smile. Feel my presence, Oh ! My presence... stronger now than ever. Remarking your opposition, for I feed your rebellion. I do hear...hear things you never said, my love. I could read you stories,real. Of people, living, amusing. Better even than your fictional tale or a fairy tale. For, I know. Yes ! I know the faces you see in the clouds of clarity. O Humanity, destruction you wrought upon yourself. For your insecurities hidden, your strength you 've proven. I can see right through you, my friend. I 've been there in your deepest co...

Sit back, look back. Oh my friend, Do you remember? First day you stepped into college. The nervous glances, awkward intro's, seeking comfort ,finding friends, blending in. Do you ? Do you? Don't you remember? That girl with the strange name, And that guy with the goofy laugh. That hot senior your friend couldn't take her eyes off. That lame teacher whose pj's you couldn't get over and, That adorable teacher whom you couldn't help but swoon over. Don't you? Don't you? The despicable internals, the long list of assignments, those class tests, those semester exams... them cake fights, the lectures we bunked, the inside jokes we cracked, the code names we created. All the things we did together, All the situations we faced together, All these experiences build up like a sand castle, streaked by glittering colors, adorned by sea shells. A gigantic wave from the ocean so vast... may hit the shore and return our castle to...

Teenage Conundrum is one year and three days old as on today. I happened to realize that this evening. At first I was all like… “how stupid of  me to forget” and all. Once I was done doing that, the elation just over came me. I was just so sooo happy. I still am. I want to scream , shout , dance , sing and “yaaaaayyyyyy”. Am truly, madly, deeply joyed. Am ecstatic, am exhilarated, am pleased. All good feelings. It is over whelming to know it has been a year already. To think that I was holding back to start a blog! Sometimes even when you know you are good at something or there is this idea in your head that you think could work wonders if you act on it…yet you hold back. You can’t quite put your finger on why you do so. You stagger before you have even taken the first step. The first step is the longest stride. Don’t wait for the right time. Whenever, wherever you decide to start…it is the right time.   Look at me now. This blog makes me feel confident. It keeps my...

Just when you think you are losing it, you are getting stuck in routine or that what you are doing is not quite what you think you ought to be doing...stop and give your self a moment...of silence, of calmness and then, Try to look at the same thing that's bothering you from a new perspective...a different angle or an alternative view. And make sure that this time you look at the brighter side. Sure,right now maybe things might not be as you expected them to be.Then again, Can you really expect what is going to happen? Of course you can , but you can't be certain. And  that is the joy of it. What if you woke up tomorrow and I played out the rest of your day like a movie, would you still be interested in getting out of your bed and going out there to chase your dreams and live your life ? Of course not . Uncertainties are not bad . They are more like inevitable. They keep that element of surprise alive. It's the liveliness that gives  you the energy to wake up every day ...