About Inspiration etc.

Inspiration is such a strong word. It's like doing all the amazing work yourself and give the credit to someone else. Well, that's one way of looking at it. Had it not been for that inspiration, you might not have done that work at all. But is it so? I think not. Something just becomes a medium and you make a big deal of it. 

I have heard this so may times about blogging - I have not been regular as I have lost interest, or there is no motivation anymore. What was that factor that made you write a blog? Do you remember writing your very first post? After publishing it, you may have posted the link on every social networking site, or just pinged your friends on gtalk and asked them to read and comment. Or you may simply have published it under an anonymous name and made sure your friends/family never found out about your blog. 

The way you felt back then while writing the first post and how you feel now while writing one is totally different. When you started writing, you never expected to become so popular or so lost among many popular faces. You never thought you would get so many comments, or you never thought you would be disappointed as not a single person read what you wrote with so much of heart and soul. And yet to write. With the hope that next post will be loved by people. But the frequency reduces. The show becomes less frequent due to the lack of audience. Or maybe not. You keep writing without bothering about such things. But then whom are you writing for? Yourself? Then why not in a more private space? Why a public blog? Why not on a piece of paper or in a diary or in a word file?

I ask myself this often. Why do I write? I love to write, but more importantly, I have fallen in love with the idea of writing that reaches so many people through various mediums. Sharing what I think liberates me. It makes me feel closer to myself. I like to go back to my old posts and read what I wrote a few months ago, a few years ago. The kind of language flow I had, the kind of words I used, my emotions, my opinion, my point of view - everything was so different. I can see myself growing as a person. I can see the difference in Neha a year ago and this Neha. Some things have become better, while others, worse. But they have not been the same. People who used to irritate me a year ago are now dear friends. People whom I loved have become strangers. 

And these emotions, these patterns and these incidences are recorded. Noted. Right here. Six months down the line when I read this post, I will remember what exactly I was going through while writing this post. There is a dilemma that won't even be existing then. I will be laughing about it then, or maybe I will regret about something I should have done and didn't do it. Nevertheless, this phase will seem a lot easier and smaller compared to what I am feeling right now.

Did something or someone inspire me to write? Well, if you call curiosity an inspiration, or shit phase a motivation, or boredom an excuse then yes, you may do so. I think these are just the fancy names we give to something we would do otherwise too if it was a necessity. Keeping a role model is at times just a backup that we choose to fall back. If we cannot repeat the same thing again, or cannot get the same success, we can always get rid of the responsibility by passing the blame buck on the inspiration. Or distraction. Maybe it's the fear that stops up from taking the full credit of our success. 

I do call people my inspirations too. When I want to make them happy. Or to get some work done. It works for me. And them as well. They get motivation. You get good work. Everyone is happy.

A Place for a Wandering Soul

Have you been to a place where, after stepping there, you feel as if you are in a new world altogether? Or think that the one you live in is no life at all. Your idea of a good life is actually an illusion that you live in. Place you can call home. You feel at peace even while doing nothing at all. You meet new people and in no time it feels as if you have known them for years. You still try not to be too friendly because it all seems too good to be true. 

Such a place exists. For the first time I am taking out time to write about it while being there. Yes I skipped a nice place to visit just to spend this time with myself. Going to the terrace and reading a book, visiting a cafe nearby all on my own - I need at least one such getaway on a trip. I don't care if I end up missing out on the best structure in this world for this time. But this time is important to me. 

Auroville is much more than a home. It accepts you the moment you come here. And I am so glad I did. Second day here and everything - from people to food to places to my room - everything is just perfect. I can hear the sound leaves are making outside. Some birds are chirping. They chirp round the clock. And it's a pleasant, soothing voice. There is an old fountain outside. It's not a pretty one. Quite old, not functioning too well. But that's the best part about it. The sound of water dripping from it is the most soothing sound you can ever imagine. 

Yes, it sounds too poetic. Or not. Who cares. The place is magical. It's almost untouched. A place where you would want to come to without a plan. And stay for as long as you want to. A place where the company doesn't matter. A place you want to visit on your own. And not leave. 

It helps you find yourself. And connects with yourself. What music does to you. Auroville has the same effect on you.

Scattered Thoughts

I think I need to clear the dust before I start writing here again. At least clear it off the laptop screen. There is so much to write about, so much to say and share and so little time. I have been busy with so many things. Mostly travelling. Travelling more than working. And that's a bloody good feeling. This year I made two trips to East/North East and three to North. And the next one is planned already.

More than the travel part, it is about meeting different people. Learning about different cultures. Realising that your country is more beautiful than you can ever imagine. Realising that those google images were less beautiful than the place. The value it holds. You look at the place differently from everyone else. 

Life experiences mould you. How certain things change you as a person. How you look at someone you know changes. How indifferences disappear. How easily you can now let go. Forgive. Forget. Move on. Or, live with it.

Or completely opposite of it. The person you couldn't live without once, is no longer with you. You may even hate him, or miss him like crazy and still want him. Some relationships leave you bitter. Some make you better. 

And some things don't change at all. Anger is one such thing. It's good so far as it's healthy. But the moment it starts controlling you, or making things worse for you, you need to take the charge. Start controlling it. It's not possible always, but not too difficult either.

My anger has always been on the extreme side. It's just so easy to make me angry. I can blast even if you say A and I don't like you. I can blast the hell out of you. I don't care where I am or who is in front of me. I cool down quickly but by then the damage has already been done. People who know me well know this about me. Rest are no longer in my life. 

Do I regret? No. If I really love you, and get angry at you, and don't try to makeup within max a day, then you are wrong. Amendments? It depends on your wrong. Some things cannot be amended. Or altered. Some things are lost forever. Anger is just a medium to severe ties. To detach. They were never meant to be. And they will never be.

I wrote this article in bits and pieces over five days. I have been trying to write, but unable to due to many reasons. Mind is not at peace. It's not disturbed either. It just lacks motivation at the moment. I am off to another trip. Another experience. I hope I come back motivated. To write.

Why I write

We take inspiration from so many things. This post is inspired by A book by Manto with the same title. It talks about his journey as a writer. How he started writing, how he became a popular short story writer. The book has such essays. They are simple. Just like a blog post. Written in simple words. It's almost like talking to him in person. He talks to you through his essays. And that's what I would want to read rather than reading something that gives me the title of elite reader.

Coming back to the header - this is one thing I have thought about so many times. Why do I write? Me, or you or anyone else? What is going on in my mind when I pen down a particular word? Or a sentence? My posts are usually outcomes of the emotions I am feeling on a particular day. This is why when I start writing, I complete it in one go. I cannot carry it forward to the next day. New day, new emotion. Thus the old post cannot be continued. That's how it works with me.

Probably that is precisely why all my posts sound the same to me in my head as I write when I am feeling one particular kind of emotion. That emotion is difficult to explain in words. But when I read them, they are all different. It's amazing how I can write about different things even when I am feeling the same emotionally while writing those. 

I don't think I can write for an audience. I do write, but they do not reflect me. I don't see myself in those writings. They are just there. For people. Not for me. And that kind of kills the entire purpose of writing for me. But I still write for an audience because of reasons known to me.

It's simple. Writing comes naturally to me. I can write a post in 20 minutes to half an hour. Writing one thousand words is not a big deal for me at all. But rarely does that happen that I like something written by me. There have been times when I wanted my writing to reach to the masses. Not because I wanted to be popular. But because they conveyed message I thought was important for others to know. But most get ignored. I feel bad for a while. And then move on. 

Writing is food for soul. It's an exercise mind needs. It's a validation of my sanity. And existence. It makes me feel alive. And for that I don't ever want to stop writing. I will continue penning down my thoughts even if that happens once a year. But I will continue doing so. I am scared that the day I stop writing, I will feel dead from within. It's almost like accepting defeat from one's self. And I cannot do that. It's somehow important to me. And I am glad it is like that. There is something I know I will always enjoy doing. It keeps me going. And I will always have something to look forward to at any point in life.

Attachment theory

I think I should change my blog name to Neha's philosophies. That's the only thing I am good at writing. Or so I believe. Today I was talking about attachment with a friend. And I realised that I don't get emotionally attached to people anymore. There was a time when I was an emotional fool. Strange thing was that not many were aware about this side of me. I always protected myself from being emotionally exploited. Vulnerability was something I wanted to believe/show that never existed within me.

Teenage days, I was not sure about what kind of guy I wanted. Yes, you do look for someone good looking always, but I was clueless about other aspects about him. I was a very ugly teenager. I never really had many choices anyway. But I was smart. People liked to interact with me. I could talk to anyone about any topic. From sports to politics to writing to reading to studies to people. Now when I think about that time, I realise how dumb I was. And others, dumber. 

I was emotionally at different level in each relationship. This attachment only increased with time. To an extent that it was no longer a big deal to keep my ego aside and agree to whatever my guy said. I was no longer in touch with my friends, his group was my group, my choices were secondary. Yes, I was doomed. It was a stupid thing to do, forgetting who you are and agreeing to everything your guy says/does.

I learnt from my mistakes. I decided not to forget my individuality for anyone. And I didn't. But this time, another extreme trait became the reason for making me the way I am today. I always loved unconditionally. In all my relationships. I never had any expectations from people. I never asked any questions, never expected any answers. That's how I was. And there were times when it was important to ask questions and demand explanations, but I didn't. It was almost as if I was chasing my own destruction.

I thought it was perfectly all right to do these things for love, to keep the one you love happy. But you cannot really be happy if you are killing your happiness for someone. Yes, change a bit, adjustments are never wrong, but they have to be made in moderation. When you are the only one making the adjustments and the other person does nothing, in all probabilities the relationship will not last. 

I thought relationship was the only thing that I was losing by being this way. But I was wrong. I was losing myself. I realised it much later and the damage was done. I started becoming emotionally detached. I no longer felt the way I would usually feel about someone - be it family or friends. I still care for them. I still go out of my way to do things for them, to keep them happy. But there are no emotions involved. I am not attached to them as much as I used to be. It's a good state. People don't think you are changed as you still do things for them the way you used to do. But there is something lacking in your touch and in your tone. It's a scary state.

Now it's too mechanical for me. For others, I cry because I am expected to, I smile just to avoid questions. But I am happy. I cry and smile for me. I don't believe in display of emotions all the time, but I still display them. I rarely have low days. I am mostly normal. The day I am low, I become quiet. I disconnect from everything and everyone. And I am fine in no time. I don't like to receive texts and messages and e-mails asking me how I am. I think it's useless. I like people who agree with me regarding this. 

About attachment, it might come back, it may never come back. I am fine so far as I am happy. And that's the only thing that matters. Yes, I love you. Hah.

Clothes shrink

I was always proud of one superpower I was blessed with - high metabolism. I could hog like a pig and not even put on 200 grms. Whenever there was a stress phase, I would reduce weight, going from skinny to very skinny self. And it felt fine. I was comfortable in my skin. Almost every damn dress fit me. My size was easily available. And there would be quite a few like me as XS size in case of dresses and S for t-shirts was there for almost every label.

Whenever I met people, their first reaction was - gosh you are so thin! Some even envied me. But most thought I never got any food. They never considered the possibility that I might be having a small appetite. "Khaana nahi milta hai kya?" was a statement that would look good if it was followed by a slap as my reply. But you kind of get used to it. Everyone tells you the same thing. In almost the same tone and manner. As if your parents hate you so much that they starve you.

But the best thing of that frame was - it always remained constant. A bit of weight here and there never changed my clothes size as it was always one-two kgs difference. I could fit into a dress I bought a decade ago without any efforts. Ah it's surely a blessing for someone who hates shopping. And it feels awesome too to wear older and more comfortable clothes. And you always have a lot of clothes. Imagine the situation where you don't have that "I don't have anything to wear" scene playing in your mind ever.

No matter what people call you - malnourished, skinny, hanger - you feel content as you are comfortable with your body. You have more stamina to do every damn thing than them, you fall ill less frequently than them, all your reports are normal, you hog more than they do, eat all the desserts-chocolates-creams-cheese without thinking about the calories part, you never have to hit the gym to reduce weight or the tummy flab you have just because you ate that one extra slice of pizza every time.

Yes, I flaunted all these things. I hogged like a pig every time I went out or had something tasty to eat and didn't feel sorry after eating. I never checked weighing scale after having a five course meal. And then the curse of those thousands of people hit me. I started putting on weight. My diet remained the same, my routine was the same too, but weight - no. The old clothes I was so fond of started shrinking. The denims became tight, the dresses lost its fitting too automatically. Suddenly you had a few loose clothes that would fit you. You came down to 20 clothes from 200. "I don't have anything to wear" nightmare became real. 

Thankfully I haven't become fat. I am still thin, but I am no longer skinny. After meeting me for the first time or seeing me after a span of six months, nobody says that I don't get anything to eat or I have reduced weight. I look taller than average Indian girls and too short in front of most of the guys I know. Those sexy dresses don't fit me any longer, but I am not buying any either as I am at a weird size stage. I am just complaining about the tummy flab. But that's kind of okay too. I have bought some new clothes, and plan to buy some more. I am not sure whether to discard the old ones or not. See! Life is all about confusions. Or life is confusing. Confusing! 

I still believe that one must not judge people by their physical appearance, or the kind of clothes they wear. It's their choice. If someone is 40 kgs or 140 - if it doesn't affect your life, you should reserve your comments to yourself. I have personally known really fat people and they have suffered from depression due to their weight. They need to be fit; not ill.

I have not only mastered the art of digressing from the main topic, but even to make a light post serious. So yes, clothes shrink. More than 100 clothes cannot be wrong at the same time. They all shrink together.

Happiness

It's amazing how our mind works. How our emotions work. How we react to the same situation differently at different stages. How we look at a relationship differently as time passes by. How new people enter our lives, and in no time they become an integral part of our lives. And some people who swore to be there forever suddenly disappear. Because of you, because of them or because of circumstances - but they are not there with you anymore. They leave behind a void. At times someone else fills it, at times you fill it yourself or maybe it remains like that for forever.

It's like you talk to someone everyday. About every single thing that happens in your life - happy, sad, confusing, funny, awkward - every damn thing. And one day - whoosh. The comfort is not there anymore. You are alone, completely on your own. The moment something happens the next day, you pick your phone, start typing the text and stop. You suddenly realise that you don't have anyone to text or share the news with.

Funny how you don't even remember how this dependency started. Before him or her, you were perfectly happy doing things without anyone knowing. You had a routine life, without anyone paying much attention to your existence. 

One fine day, someone comes into your life, who gives you that special attention you so far never noticed getting from anyone else. You start talking more. You start getting more attention. When you are happy, he/she shares your happiness, when you are sad, he/she makes you smile. It feels great so far as it lasts. 

We don't even realise what we do to ourselves when we store our dependency in someone. What happens to us, our feelings when our happiness changes its meaning and becomes a person instead of things or emotions? Why do we create that space that was not there earlier and that we didn't even need? Now that we have created the space, we need to fill it. With the person. It usually starts when you meet your first guy. Once he leaves, you sulk, you are sad, you feel lonely. You have nobody to share your happiness with, nobody to listen to you crib, no punching bag. If you are good looking, this phase doesn't last too long. You find someone else. Repeat the cycle. It's a loop.

But with time, you slowly realise that you need to break this loop. You need to detach happiness from a particular person. Yes, without that too, a relationship can be strong and healthy. And without relationship too, you can be happy. And like everything else, this too is easy said than done. But one has to start somewhere. Then why not now?

Very strange post I know. I had to write something. My thoughts. I have not been able to write. And that scares me. I have managed one whole post today, that's a huge deal. Hope the block doesn't last long.

Comeback, Conversations and Dates

I'm back. From where? Where did I go to? Did I even go anywhere? No place that you know of. Or even I do for that matter. But somehow off late I have been feeling some kind of a disconnect from this place. To be honest, I hated this disconnect. But now I again feel like writing. And reading. I have not been reading any blogs for quite some time. Not that I didn't want to, I just didn't feel like. Especially since the time this blogger interface changed. I stopped connecting with the dashboard. I didn't feel like opening blogger.com.

But now I feel like coming back to this space. I miss blogging dearly. Every time there is a conversation about some topic, I end up saying that I have blogged about it, or I have read about this on someone's blog. There was a time when blogging was allotted specific hours each day. It was a kind of ritual. I bet it is still for some of you. 

Whenever an interesting conversation takes place, I decide to blog about it. But it doesn't materialise. Reasons are few, excuses are plenty. A few days ago my friend asked me what I wanted to do with my life. I work, I earn and I spend. There is no goal as such set for the future. But is it even required? We spoke about my so called future plans. She seemed satisfied with my answer and since then has not nagged me for building up some savings.

Another discussion happened with another friend. It was about remembering dates. I am good at remembering dates I want to remember. Rather, I remember dates associated with people I love. Thus if I love you, I will remember all the dates associated with you - your birthday, when did we meet, when did a particular important incident happened with us etc. I even remember the dates which are important to that person. It sounds too scary to even me. And thus I never tell this to anyone that I remember this date when we did this. It doesn't really matter to me. On that day, it wouldn't even click me that it's an important day. But when I think of an incident, I remember it with a date if it's important enough. Phew! I am complicated. Not much, but a bit. And it's good. Too much of simplicity gets boring. 

In other news, yesterday was blog's birthday. I remembered it, but I was working, thus couldn't find any time to post anything. Earlier, I used to write one whole post on such things. Now I laugh at myself for doing so. But earlier, blogging happened regularly. When I used to go on a vacation, I used to set a date and time and put a post on auto publish mode so that my blog is not neglected in my absence. And now I don't even open it regularly. But I still manage to write something. I still enter some entry here however lame it might be. And I will continue doing so.

PS: Ignore the header.

About happiness

I always knew I would enjoy travelling alone, but what I didn't know was that it was addictive. I visited Udaipur recently. I was there for a family wedding. My whole khandan was travelling with me. Rajasthan was always there on my list of places I wanted to travel alone. And it kind of happened that way. Family people had already seen Udaipur and places around the city, thus it was just me who was left, and I was glad for that.

While travelling around the city, and outside too, while sitting alone in the car, while looking at the endless empty road ahead of you, while seeing the deers and leopards passing by, while watching monkeys to prepare to attack on any food they spot with you, while looking at children playing in the villages you pass by - you are searching for yourself everywhere. You are trying to fit in there. You wonder where you belong, what do you want, why are you doing what you are doing right now.

And I realise that things that make me happy and things I think that make me happy are different. Things, people who really make you happy never let you down. No, it's not about fulfilling fancy expectations, but it's about understanding you and your requirements, it's about accommodating you too in their small space, it's about accepting you as a part of them. There are no excuses and conditions. That's why happiness can easily be fulfilled when they depend on things and not people.

I felt happy when I was travelling on those endless roads. I felt connected to myself then. I didn't want the journey to end. But like every other good thing, that ended too, but for time being. Will I value it as much if I get it all the time and whenever I want it? I doubt I will. It has to be earned.

I feel happy when I write. It can be about any mundane topic, it can be extremely lame or smart, funny or philosophical. I can write something every single day. Here, on this space. This feels like home now. It's been my home for four years. It has me. It has a soul, just like mine. It has given me hope, happiness, heartbreak, dreams, love and hatred. It's just like life, created by me, with my words, and people.

This post was supposed to be a kind of travelogue, but it ended up somewhere else. I am anyway not too fond of travelogues. Or maybe I am. I have never really given it a thought. What makes you happy? Do you know it already or you are yet to find out? For me, I think I have found one of the things that makes me happy. But there is still a long way to go. Rather, many miles to go. I will sign off with my favourite picture. It was taken recently in Kumbhalgarh, Rajasthan.

Road trips

It's been a good period for me as far as travel is concerned. I visited Goa last month. It was my third trip to Goa, so the destination was not something I was looking forward to visit, but it was a road trip, and I love road trips especially during monsoons when the roads look more beautiful with various shades of green all around them.

I was with two more friends in our car, a lady driving. So all those who think that ladies cannot drive should meet my friend. It was one of the best roads trips for me for various reasons - I have rarely travelled on ghats during monsoon. Lonavala trips no longer fall in the road trip category as thanks to the Express way, you don't get to enjoy the ghat section. But the roads are beautiful nevertheless. And I did visit Lonavala using the ghat route as it was a bike ride. But more on that, later in the post.

Coming back to the Goa trip, while going to Goa, we took the old goa route. It was a single lane road at most of the places. I have travelled on that road a lot of times for business trips to various parts of Raigad. But this time, I got to travel through the ghats after a long time. Thanks to Monsoons, we not only came across lush greens all over, but even a few waterfalls. Here are some images:

Road to Goa - one of the best patches that we drove on.

Waterfalls en-route Goa.

Goa stay was very relaxing too. I was resting most of the times. The resort was beautiful. It had a private beach and other amenities that you would prefer when you go for a vacation to rest. While coming back, we took the Kolhapur route. It had only one ghat - Amboli ghat. Rest of the route was express way. But those twenty minutes on Amboli ghat left me with unforgettable memories of the ghat.

This was the road that we drove on for twenty odd minutes. There were some 25 odd waterfalls on this ghat.

Another trip was to Lonavala by bike. Again, it's a different fun to travel on ghats on a bike and in a car. You cannot compare both the experiences. I don't click much when I travel as I prefer to enjoy the journey more than capturing the memories. I like the memories more in my head. But I do have a few pictures of that trip, one of them is going to be my favourite for quite some time after the one I posted above.

You can see me too in the mirror. This was the road for sixty to eighty kilometers one way. While returning, it was pouring. Again it's a different fun to get drenched in rains when you travel by car and by bike.

Yesterday I went to Kolad for river rafting. That was one great experience too. One of the best outdoor activities I have done. But more on that, some other time.

Good life, huh?

About Passion

One of the most difficult questions for me to answer has to be - "What are you passionate about?". I start thinking about my life from the beginning, things I enjoyed doing, things I overdid at times, got bored and moved on. But there has not been a single thing I can do anytime and anyhow. Many people have some passion in life, and at times more than one. People are passionate about adventurous activities, music, painting, riding, photography, travelling and hundred other things.

But don't these passions restrict you? Say if you are passionate about one thing, then in your free time you will prefer to do only that thing. You may not even explore other things. Your concentration will be solely on the ride, or photography. You may not randomly take a halt at the place and for a change not click any pictures, but capture the feel in your mind. It may be a totally non-photographic location, but you may miss out on its beauty as you were looking for one all along. But well, photography makes you happy thus it may not be a loss to you.

Anyway this passion thing is beyond me. I fail to understand how someone can do the same thing again and again. And when I read about passion, I think others think that I am foolish not to have one. Like this quote by E. M. Forster that says. "One person with passion is better than forty people merely interested." And Hugh Hefner said, "I didn't want to repeat my parents' life. I saw in their lives a routine and a lack of dreaming, a lack of the possibilities, a lack of passion. And I didn't want to live without passion."

I somehow do not believe that you have no life if you do not have any passion. Lack of it gives you more opportunities to try out other things more frequently. Or so I think. I love travelling as much as I enjoy photography. But I forget to click when I see a breathtaking location. At times we decide to go for a drive to a far away destination, but end up spending time at a dhaaba and come back. We decide to go for treks and river rafting but we end up spending our time elsewhere. And these experiences are usually more memorable.

In a way if you see, I am passionate about randomness. Or maybe passion and random are oxymoron. Who cares so far as it keeps me going. And when you are blessed with like-minded people, these things become ten times more enjoyable. Lack of passion becomes a blessing. We make a plan and leave within hours. And that plan is not only about our passion. It can be something as silly as a house party or some drive on ghats during monsoon. There are days I spend working without any holiday, and there are hours I spend reading books. And some days I spend doing nothing. I have tried my hands at painting, music - singing as well as playing instruments, dancing, acting in plays, writing scripts and what not. And I am grateful that I never found a passion, or I may not have known so many things.

Whoever said that people who lack passion don't have a life. I bet these scholars would have been sober when they wrote these quotes.

Don't call me!

Last few days have been weird. It's one of those phases where you have a lot of work, but you lack concentration due to various reasons. I have a lot of work in hand, but I end up doing just 30% of it by the end of the day. And I work all night right before the deadline. I am kind of used to working this way - finish a draft in one day, or review it and edit it within five hours and such.

But this time around, it's different. I am not able to work at all. Drafting a document seems like a huge task. Blame it on the gloomy weather or just laziness - work is not happening. And that's not a good sign. When you ain't able to do the very thing that keeps you sane, you are in trouble my dear friend.

Blogging is not happening either. I forget to log in here. When someone asks something or talks about blogs, I remember this space. I have not read any blogs in a long time. Looks like I am turning old. Life hacks I tell you.

And I have realized a weird problem that I have. I don't like talking on the phone. I am a very talkative person otherwise. I can talk all my life and still don't lack topics to talk about. But when it comes to talking on phone, especially those random useless talks when someone calls you up casually. Ugh, it's pathetic. How can people talk for hours with someone is totally beyond me!

Even today, when someone calls me up and if that happens to be the first call to me from that person, it takes me some time to answer the phone. I become very nervous. And that's so unlike me! I cannot talk to people casually. Thankfully most of my friends know that. When I call up someone, I say directly why I called. I cannot initiate small talks. Thus I prefer to talk in person or on messenger so that I can work too simultaneously. But talking or chatting on phone would be the last thing I would do.

I can handle client calls, at times they last for 30 40 minutes to an hour, or more. But it involves work. I don't have to ask them how are their children or what did they have for dinner. I can talk about law and work all the time. Again, I prefer it in a personal meeting rather than on phone, but well, that's not possible always.

There is no special term for this phobia. It's just called phone phobia. People do have it. It's not uncommon or unheard of, but not too common nevertheless. And I cannot say that I am phobic. I can comfortably talk to the person after two to three conversations with him/her. Talking becomes easier after meeting the person.

Anyway, people waste time on phone. It's the worst possession that I have. People abuse it, and misuse it. Your problem really, just don't give me a casual call and talk just to pass time or to know how many times I ate through the day. Let's meet and treat me for lunch/dinner instead. Thank you very much!

I breathe sports

When I was around two years old and didn't understand much about tv, I used to cry whenever family switched it on. I would rather call it howling. And it was weird, for the moment the channel played commercials during the break, I used to become quiet and watch the ads with a lot of interest and concentration. The moment any serial/movie/match started, howling started too.

As a great relief to my family, this phase didn't last long. I started ignoring television like every other thing one dislikes. I never watched any cartoon or a serial. Grandparents always forced me and my brother to watch Ramayana and Mahabharata. At times I watch Mogli and Potli baba ki as brother used to watch those series, but that's about it. I never developed any interest in the television programmes.

The first complete series I ever was I dream of Jeannie. And after that - bewitched. There was a reason for that - to avoid tuitions. I hated studying. Well, who doesn't. But I was way too lazy to study anything. And for that purpose, I used to pay attention in the class so that I wouldn't have to read the same thing again at the time of exams. Studying one thing and studying the same thing again in tuition was an absurd idea. And doing homework was never ever an option - forget compulsion. I was always punished for not doing homework in school.

Thus I had practically nothing to do the whole day especially during vacations. Somewhere in late 80s, one of those summer vacations when I was in my home town and didn't go to visit my maternal grandmother, I happened to watch a tennis match. I asked my neighbour about the rules and how it was played. I found it interesting as well as confusing. But it was any day better than those headless serials and cartoons. This is how my tennis following started.

I was too young then to even know that one has to have favourites to enjoy the game even more. When I learnt that, it was Samprass Era. He was on top then, winning everything that came his way - except the French Open title. I was never a fan of world best people. I always preferred dark horses, for I considered myself to be one too. Thus I started following Agassi. I will cut the crap short about my followings after that in men's and women's tennis, but my current favourite is Nadal. No, not because he wins, but I fell in love with his game when I saw him play in 2003 or 04.

Being an Indian, your love for cricket is as natural as taking first step or saying those first words. I don't remember which sport I started watching first - Tennis or Cricket; but the order really doesn't matter. I love both equally. My love for cricket was so much back then that Dad and I used to watch even the test matches between Zimbabwe and Bangladesh. And that annoyed mom a lot. We even used to watch the repeat telecast of the matches India won!

In late 90s, I started following football. It started with watching English Premier League. It started with Manchester United. They taught me football. I learnt each and every move, rule, foul watching them play. That made me support England too in the world cup. It was for players and not for the country that I started supporting England. I swore by Beckham, more for his game.

And today I see so many people follow and support these games. And they call it men's forte. I just smile at them, for I know how much I have seen and known about these games. Each and every technical detail to players' bios - everything. But that's fine. I laugh at their assumptions secretly, I don't fight. It's useless to. But when a discussion happens about a game or a player, after knowing about what I know about the same, they do get that I know more than they had assumed I'd known.

These days I can't watch each and every game, or follow the seasons, but I try to watch as much as I can. I try not to miss the crucial games. Online streaming has made life much easier. I can switch the tabs while working, and my uninterested family doesn't have to bear with Euro 2012 matches too. Sports are the only thing I love to watch and follow. I can watch matches all day if given a choice.

Such a long post. Ignore it, it's going to be boring for you anyway! But it has to be here for my love for sports; for I breathe sports.

Life is weird

Life is weird. Things you are sad about right now will make you laugh at them tomorrow. Things you are happy about will soon seem as if they never existed. And we move on. At times slowly, at times pretty fast. At times pretending to be strong, at times faking the weakness. At times feeling bad about something we ought to do, at times taking others on a guilt trip just for the sake of proving oneself right.

And then we write about it. With bitterness, or sadness, or even with a relief - but we write. For the record. For laughing at us tomorrow or for smiling. Or maybe just to live the emptiness all over again.

Just the other day I was discussing about mood swings with a friend. I asked him how it worked with guys. Girls behave as if they have a birth right on mood swings. And how easily we blame it on PMS. It's at times the easiest and safest excuse, for many people do not understand that mood swings can be without any reasons. And my friend admitted of having those too. But he said that he could control his mood most of the times. Especially at work place. At home, his moods were more than visible - especially the irritated ones. Ah well!

All of us have different ways to handle a situation. Some people prefer to talk it out and reach a solution, some disconnect completely just to get the hold of the situation, some show anger, some cry. But that's about us. In the process of making ourselves stable, we forget that the opposite person may not be able to take your action in the right manner. You have to disconnect to make things normal, while he has to talk it out to keep things moving in the right direction. Even while doing good to others, we tend to become selfish. We assume so many things about so many things including what gives happiness to people who matter to us. And we lose it all in the bargain. Who is wrong here? Or who suffers in the end?

But again, it's life. And it goes on. Today we are crying about something, tomorrow we may not even remember it, for it may not really matter to us then. Or maybe we find better things. Or maybe we just remain stuck there in the same emotions even tomorrow.

Ah, life is weird!

Passport office ordeal

Today was THE legendary day. It was expected to be a kind of day I wanted to remember and be proud of. And I secretly wanted it to be the judgment day too in my favour of course, but alas! 

I had an appointment at the Passport office. My passport is still valid, but I have changed some personal details and for that I had to reapply the passport. Like I mentioned in the earlier post, this time around I didn't want to go through an agent and pay him the bribe money to get my work done. Thus I wanted to make sure that I had all the documents they ask for. I was carrying two documents extra for each proof.

The reporting time was 2 15. I reached there by 2 just to be sure. I don't know why I had thought that I would be the only person for that slot as they have been so particular about the appointments and schedules. I saw a long queue outside the gate at two. Thinking I was early and fully prepared, I asked the person to let me in. And there was the first shocker waiting for me. He asked me to stand in the line. Since I was early, I readily did so without any arguments.

Now, there were some 15 odd people ahead of me, and 5 more stood behind me in two minutes. I realized that I wasn't a VIP who was allotted this time-slot for the appointment. I was one of many to be submitting my application.

I entered in, got the security check done, stood in the token line for five minutes. There were a few young people standing ahead of me. After good five minutes, I was informed that I was in the wrong queue. That counter was only for senior citizens. I told him that nobody in that line was close to being a senior citizen and I was in fact the senior most there. It didn't work. These people were the ones who were accompanying their parents/grandparents.

So I moved to the next counter. A right one this time around. The lady on the counter checked my application, verified the documents, checked everything. As I said that I was well prepared. And then came the catch - another shocker. I was asked to get an ad published in one National and one Local newspaper. I asked them why they had not mentioned it in the list of documents? They said that they had the power to ask for any documents; even the ones which ain't mentioned in the list. And their decision was the final one.

So yes, in spite of all the precautions and preparations, I came back - empty handed. I had to fill up a fresh application, take a fresh appointment and visit the office again with all the documents. Yes, too much hassle, but still better than the agent route. And the bribe route. I will visit the office a few more times, but I will get this done myself.

Ah, how boring of me!

Realizations

Like always, I started writing about whatever was going on in my mind. I boasted a lot in the previous post. It said so much about how mahaan I am. I didn't think even once before posting it. But when the comments started pouring in, most of them were about how fabulous I am, patting my back, I felt so embarrassed.

Not that I was not expecting such reactions from people. But so many reactions? That surprised me. The last thing I wanted was to be told how mahaan I was even though I was one. Yes I am weird that way. I love to boast but when it comes to taking compliments, I develop cold feet. Well I have blogged about it, if you read me regularly, then you'd have read it.

Now, how to offend readers - one should learn it from me. I should be thanking them for reading my crap every time I write it. And my craps are too long! But well, they like me too much to bear with it.

Coming back to the non-conceited space, I was discussing humour with a friend. We were talking about how people do not get our style of humour. We went into this depression at some point as we thought we lacked humour. But the conclusion was that we have dry humour which people seldom understand.

Another conclusion of the discussion was that a depressed person should talk to us. We can change a person's mood totally.

I have been a nice daughter. I took mom to the dentist. She is scared of them. She had to undergo cleaning as she caught some infection and cavity problem. And I have realized that I will brush twice a day. Dentists are scary people. They can drill and then kill you easily!

In an unrelated news, this is the third day of writing one post a day. Again a few rants, but yes, a post is up for me. And a lot of realizations. I will write another post tomorrow too in all probabilities about my passport story. Hope that goes well.

The Honest me!

Two posts back to back has never happened on this space. I have been pretty regular at blogging in past. I remember updating my blog every three-four days. When I used to go out of town, I used to write a post and set it on auto-publish mode so that the blog remains updated. There was a reason behind it - regular posts ensured more comments and followers. How silly!

Slowly it changed. Things changed. Circumstances changed. I started be more and more irregular here. Writing as well as reading blogs. But one thing I am proud to claim - there has not been a single month since I started blogging in which I haven't written any post. Ain't I proud of me?

Days are super busy like always. Apart from the regular work and more frequent lectures, I am busy getting my documents made. I had to change my address on all the existing documents and it is a pain in ass. I started it with the Ration card, then PAN card, passport, driver's license - phew. It's been one week since I have been running from pillar to post to get the documents in place. I filled the online application for the passport and PAN card, but I have to submit the physical documents too at the centre.

While doing these formalities on my own, I realized why people preferred to pay thrice the money and get things done through the agents. These agents not only makes your life easier, but you don't have to move an inch and things reach home. Yes you do have to visit the offices for verification, but that's about it.

And some of the agents even have inside "setting" with some officers. They charge you some more money and get things done quickly. Honestly speaking, I used to be one of such persons too who paid money to the agent to get things done and paid him some extra bribe money too to get my work done quickly and with less number of visits to the offices. But after realizing how our ministers were earning black money, I decided never to pay bribe to anyone to make my life easier.

And this was the first step. And that's the reason that I am struggling. It's been a week since I started the procedure and I have not yet got any document in my hand post the address change. I was lucky enough to get the election card well in time on the current address. This helped me to change the address in the bank account.

I am still arranging all the documents for the passport. And I don't know what will happen on Friday when I have the appointment for documents submission. I hope things go smoothly, and I hope I have sufficient documents. I have been contacting everyone who got their passport made recently to enquire about the documentation.

Nuances of going on the right direction taking the right path. Sigh! And I shall blog about that experience too. Probably a comparative study between the last time when I got my passport made through and agent and this time when I did it on my own! Yes yes, I am going to bore you people with a few more rants and stories.

Nothing to write

"Nothing to write" can also be written about. Blogging is my therapy. I feel like home when I click on the new post button. The moment I start typing there, I feel my mind becoming lighter. Especially when I am feeling stressed or low.

Life is funny at times. How easy we get attached to people, things, surroundings, comforts. And when time comes for the test, you realize what actually stays with you and what leaves you alone. At times it's a blessing when the thing that leaves you alone is pain. But if it's happiness then? You hit the low.

They say that you expect nothing from life and you will be the happiest person. But does it really happen? Is it possible not to expect anything at all from life? No matter what you claim or think, a time comes when you end up expecting something in return from life. And when you don't get it, you try to detach yourself from that thing out of anger/hurt/ego/emotion.

Then again, this detachment depends on what that thing meant to you. If it did mean something, then you would not be able to stay away from it for more than a few moments. If you can stay away, then it was never meant for you. You never needed it.

Aren't we all like that? We get attached to and detached to things and people as per our convenience? While getting attached or detached, we think about only our feelings and emotions and we don't ever consider the opposite person. I envy things at such times, for they don't have feelings. You use things when you need them and then throw them away. Poor things don't even weep in the corner.

Yes we humans are funny species. We don't know what exactly we want in and from life. We keep running behind void, without paying attention to all the wonderful things around us. And we can't even blame ourselves for that. We never sit and think what do we exactly want from life, from people, from things and from us, ourselves.

And after writing so much about nothing, I still crib that I have nothing to write about. That's how useless I am. For topics like these, I can write a boring philosophical post when I am not at all in mood to read anything heavy be it even my own work. And still I manage to produce crap about the simplest and lightest topic!

God bless me!

Beach memories

Whenever someone mentions a beach, the first visual that comes to our minds is that of lying on a beach under some shade, sipping a cooler, relaxing in the beach wear, and our skin becoming tan-resistant automatically. If wishes were horses and those horses were for real.. We all have at least one favourite beach destination - Goa, Pattaya, Bali, Male - and so many other places in India and abroad. And all of us have at least one memory attached to those beaches, the water and the shore, the sunset that could make the whole beach look like a paradise..

But if you are born in a town surrounded by beaches, the definition of a beach and fun changes drastically. Just going there and running anywhere and everywhere without a reason and without bothering about anything or anyone is priceless. Don't I wish to go back to those days?

I spent my childhood in a small town called Umbergaon. I lived there for 15 years before shifting to Mumbai. Umbergaon is surrounded by beaches. My school was right on the beach. Whenever I used to get bored in a class, I used to look out and stare at the sea, the waves, the trees, the lighthouse, birds and people. During vacations, it was a ritual to go to the beach everyday to play. Mom always stopped me from going there in the afternoon, for I would fall sick in the summer heat, but I never listened to her. The moment she used to go for her afternoon nap, a few friends and I used to go straight to the beach to play cricket or any other game which could have been played even in our gully.

Slowly and sadly, I grew up, and started bothering about things like complexion and tan and skin tone. I started noticing the difference in my skin tone of hands and legs, and I freaked out. My hands were dark, almost black. Thanks to the Indian mentality of "fair girls are pretty ones", I stopped going to the beach during afternoon. I spent my vacations indoors playing boring games or watching tv.

In a small town, your knowledge is limited to cold cream for all seasons. And I am talking about late 80s and early 90s. Then came the stage when I became wise. I got to know about sun-screens and sun-protection lotions after I shifted to Mumbai.But by that time, I was far away from the beaches I loved and abandoned them for the love of self.

It's been 15 years since I left Umbergaon. It's been around 18 odd years since I went to the beach there in the broad sunlight. I have been to many beach places in the last few years, but this one remains the closest to my heart. It's a beach with huge heart and it will welcome Kyra too with open arms. Visiting the beach you grew up at, running there without a reason, sitting there without worrying about a tan thanks to Lakme Sun Expert - now isn't that an ideal way to have fun?

Here are some pictures of what's in store for you if you visit Umbergaon this summers:

The lighthouse on the beach

Trees

The most beautiful sunset I have ever seen.

So, when do you want to backpack?

PS. This post is being submitted as an entry for the Indiblogger Lakme Diva Blogger Contest.

The Archive effect

How often do you read your own old posts? Or do you even read your archives? I do. Especially the posts of the current month for the previous years. And it gives me different feeling - there is nothing happy or sad about it - it's just different.

And every time I think that I used to write well. I lack that flow, that touch now. I lack the topics, the flow, the style - everything. I rant, talk about same things again and again. And still people read me and comment. And I am sure I am repeating this too Nth time. Anyway I know I am hopeless like that and will always be this way.

So yes, the archive - the first post, second post, tenth post. Then comes the readers, and you become conscious - about formatting, language, content, topic - everything. You start writing for readers and comments. You start reading for readers and comments. The phase lasts for a few months - your writing is still good, but you ain't entirely yourself.

And then the realization hits you. You become yourself again. You restrict your reading list, stop commenting everywhere. Your readers drop, comment numbers drop. Now you are back to being yourself to a greater extent, but you have kind of lost interest from blogging. Good or bad, the readers did motivate you to write a post on every third day. These days your blog is dormant for days. You don't have anything in drafts. You have a lot to blog about, but it's all the same. Same rants, same achievements, same people and the same you.

You still write it - once in a week, or ten days. The same thing, without bothering, for you have hardly any reader who reads you. Those who do know about you and they are happy reading it. And it makes you all the more happy, for people who matter to you read you and share your life.And the interest comes back. You again start enjoying blogging.

It's not only about reading your archive. Read the old posts of the bloggers you like. There are a few people here whose posts I have read. Each and every post. From day one. And it's such a wonderful journey. You travel with them from beginning to end. You see them evolve as writers. You realize that they are more or less like you, and yet so different from you. And you realize that you connect somewhere, the reason why you are even at their archives reading 3 or 4 years old post.

It is amazing to see the growth of you as a writer. As a blogger. And as a person. You realize how you felt two years back about something and where you are now. And it's possible when you write for yourself. Write about what you feel and what you think. Write your thoughts, write your feelings. And blogging becomes beautiful. Something you don't feel obliged to do, but something you would want to do whenever possible.