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.

Life starts to suck the day you become independent

When I made this statement, a friend said that I should stop sounding like a 40 year old. No I don't blame them. When you start working even before you are out of teenage, you would definitely sound 40 in your 30s. My first job started as soon as I was done with my 12th standard exam. After that I paid for every small or big things in life - from college fees to mobile bill to shopping - everything. And that was a good life. I did take my parents' permission for every small thing I bought, but they rarely objected. I knew the value of money even before I had learnt to spend it. 

This was probably why I studied so much. I chose subjects I usually failed in. And excelled in them. As much as I valued money, I learnt the importance of having fun in life as well. I learnt how important it is to do things you like, how important it is to meet people - old and new - from time to time, how important it is to travel. Travel with different people. Travel alone. Sit in a strange city and do nothing. Roam around from morning to evening till you are dead tired. 

All these things became much much easier after I became independent. But this small advantage had many disadvantages. I remember school days. I wasn't worried about how am I going to be able to afford something. I was never a spender. I had limited number of clothes and shoes, I bought books as required, I was too fond of stationery but never spent crazily after it, I was allergic to cocoa thus my chocolate expenditure was as good as nil. But it was a good life. I never felt burdened by anything. I didn't really understand the concept of earning that much then. 

But you don't live the same life. Things changed drastically for us. From an extremely comfortable life, I was thrown into a normal routine life of most. I didn't really have to struggle to make my ends meet, but I had a very plain and simple life. Any additional shopping had to be planned well in advance. That's when I decided to start working. Because I wanted a comfortable life. Not for only me, but even for my family. And it wasn't that difficult. I had a much better life now. And a happy one.

My jobs never took away the pleasure of free life. My jobs were usually flexible. I had the usual amount of fun one usually has in college. But I lost the luxury of being carefree about things. I no longer exercised the option of calling dad and demanding something. I earned, saved and bought what I wanted. I had to wait for some time before I could get what I wanted. It wasn't the wait that bothered me, it was the burden that did. I hated this entire - I can take care of myself - phase. I still do. I would want to have a tension free life where I am not working to earn. I love to work, but I would want to work because I want to and not because I have to.

I think I am going through this phase because I haven't really been free. There was a phase when I wasn't working for two years. But at that time I was in law school and I had other responsibilities that didn't allow me to have a job alongside. Thus I was never out of job. 

Thus I am tired. I hate this entire setup of being independent. I don't want a new life just so that I can get rid of this phase either. It's not earning money part that I am tired of. It's the responsibility and taking care of one's own self part that I hate. And I want to get rid of it asap. Yes, life really starts to suck once you become independent.

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.

Just like that

At times you just feel like writing. About nothing. About everything. I can write hundred things about one topic, and nothing about hundred topics. It's all about the mood. And mind. And how interesting the post turns out in my head. It mostly sucks, and it is mostly liked by others. Thus I have stopped thinking about how anything turns out to be.

People expect unconditional love from others, and they receive unwarranted hatred at times even from strangers. That's life. That's how it works. You think you're unimportant but there are people who talk about you and you are not even aware about it. They talk about how unimportant you are, and end up proving their theory wrong. That's how stupid they are. Or that's how fucked up you are.

And I was told just now that there is no connection between what I started with when I started this post and how I completely digressed in the second para. I think the moment I change the paragraph, my thinking process changes. I shirt the tracks drastically. And how. But that's how I can write. Thus I don't attempt to write for an audience. I sound too artificial to me when I do. There is no sense of satisfaction when I do.

Have you ever noticed how people define good or bad? Good things are usually the ones that benefit you and fear inducing things become bad. It's dussera today and people burn Ravana. They kill the bad. The good guy won, and the bad one had to die. Death is probably the worst punishment we can think of. But there are worse things than dying. And if people know that, they won't fear death. And we can't deal with too many bad men alive. We are scared of them. To protect our neck, they have to die.

It will never be about good or bad. It will always be about convenience and fear. And weak vs strong. You live, fall down, get up, rot and die.

Body hair? Ugh eww

No, that's not my reaction. That's how most men (and women) react to body hair on women's body. I never thought it was a huge deal for them, but recently someone posted about body hair on a woman's body and most men said that they liked their women waxed/shaved all the time. Coming from hairy creatures that most Indian men are, it was kinda surprising. 

Mostly, women don't have hard/pricking hair. They have a soft hair growth in most of the parts of their body. But if she doesn't wax or shave regularly, she has been looked down upon. Mostly by other women. We are always so very judgmental about girls with unwaxed arms/legs/underarms. A light growth pricks us more than the dark curly thick growth men get. 

Not complaining here, nor do I want to sound like a feminist and demand equality where I'd want men to wax like we do. Personally I don't really care about body hair. But I don't like the hypocrite attitude of people in this regards. Men joke about women with undone upper lips. In most cases you can't even see the hair out there unless she is so close to you that her nose touches yours (most of you will get this lucky only after you are married, don't worry). It's amusing when they say that the girl has a mustache. Dude you won't even feel it when you kiss her then why complain? Just once, try threading your mustache instead of shaving it and you will realise why we avoid doing it.

Our life is indeed difficult. Hair on arms, legs, underarms, back, stomach, cleavage, bikini line, facial hair, eyebrows - and removing/maintaining all these things, going to salon once a month, scream when that chick pours hot wax and pulls out all these hair - dude! I wish it was completely acceptable to keep those hair and still called sexy. Yet, we do it - to look good, for hygiene purpose or just to feel clean - we do it. Out of habit. Also because we don't want to be looked down upon. We don't want our men to say that he feels embarrassed to go our with us as our hairy legs show in that dress and it looks quite gross. 

Yet, we accept you with hair all over your body. At times we feel like telling you to keep your tee on while hugging us, as your body hair gives us itchy feeling and it's not really a turn on. It's weird not to see any part of your skin when you are topless. No, it's not sexy always. It's not even a sign of manhood after a point, for we know that already. But we accept you with all your natural flaws. 

Do a favour to your women - don't make a face if you happen to spot her unwaxed arms when she is out on a date with you. She can be lazy and busy, there are ten other things on her mind than making sure that she looks perfect for you all the time. It's all right to hold her hairy hand, be fine with it. Don't worry, you will RARELY get to see her that way. She will make sure she is clean enough when she meets you, just how you like. And if she is not, then look at yourself, look at your body, her hair growth won't bother you that much then.

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.

Advice should be chargeable

They always said that no matter how hard you try, your past comes back haunting you. You can try to hide it, amend it, delete the traces, destroy the evidences - that doesn't kill it. That just makes it dormant. It comes back to life the moment it gets the sunlight called opportunity. Or people. 

I have rarely felt guilty about my acts. No matter how big or small the mistake is, I have always accepted it, amended it and moved on. Guilt is one emotion I would never want to feel. Nor would you. For, it kills you from within. But these things are not always in our hands. We are yet to be heartless enough not to feel anything. We are yet to be nice enough to never do anything wrong to anyone. It's normal and natural to feel guilty about certain acts. But the key is not to let it rule you. Your life. Your people. And most importantly, your decisions. 

How easy it is to talk when you're not talking about your life. Some well learned person (read yours truly) once said "दुनिया का सबसे आसान काम है ज्ञान बांटना|" We are natural at giving unwarranted advice. Even to strangers. If you see someone crying at the beach, or in the train or a park, you walk up to that person, ask him or her as to what happened, try to console her even if she asks you to leave her alone, give her unsolicited advice even if she shares just a small part of her problem just so that you stop disturbing her. How we fail at minding our own business. 

Some look at it as a good deed. They think that it's good to help those who are sad. And some are even willing to accept the help. Maybe because they have nobody to talk to, or nobody understands them, but the probability of that happening is pretty low. Most of the times people who are crying in Public places wouldn't care about what you think about them, thus they wouldn't care about what you have got to say either. 

Writing a blog post on phone is a pain. Especially when you're not able to sleep because you have a lot of things on your mind. You do not know what or how do you feel at this moment. But you need to vent out. Thus you take the pain and risk of typos and write a post. But the worst part is, deciding the header. After writing the entire post, I haven't yet decided on the header. Sigh. 

Ps: Found the header. It maybe totally irrelevant, but what the heck! 

Piece of mind

How we live in phases. Little things make us happy when the time is right and biggest things don't even affect us then. Why do we do things for others? To see a smile on their face? Or because that smile makes us feel good. At the end of the day, we look for our comfort zone, and while doing that, we end up making others happy. Or sad. Depending upon the kind of phase they are in at that time.

I feel as if I think in some alien language these days. Yes I have noticed changes in me. And they have been drastic. I can sense that I have become more confident now. I was always a very confident person, but I have stepped a level above now. And it's a dangerous position. It almost makes you arrogant. It definitely makes you more narcissist. It surely increases the number of your haters. But it also makes you less vulnerable, smarter and cold. You are so cautious about everything that you may prefer losing them than harming your confidence, or emotions - whatever sounds good to your ears. 

Human nature is to exaggerate. We exaggerate almost everything. From our position to power, knowledge to foolishness, stupidity to virginity - everything. The most abused area when it comes to exaggeration is our emotions. We blackmailed our parents when we were kids, we faked tears, threw tantrums, faked smiles to look strong, faked love to not lose something or someone special, faked work pressure and illness - exaggeration kind of became a habit. Many of us are compulsive exaggerators - if such a term exists. At times it helps, at times it backfires. 

I think it's a habit now to talk about vague things on this blog. Way too many things clutter your mind without any reason. And after a point, you feel nothing about anything. It's like being emotionally dead. It maybe a temporary phase or a permanent state. But somehow these things have to be brought out of your system. It depends on you how you prefer to do it. I need to talk. I talk with people, close friends, strangers - whoever I can connect with. And I blog. 

In other news, just like last year, this year too looks good as far as travelling part is concerned. And like always, I won't be writing the travelogue. I find them boring to read. Those who know me or are connected with me on other channels know/will know about my plans. If you know me and I don't want to meet you, then you'll never find out about my whereabouts. 

And yes, happy new year. People are posting pictures of all the things that make them happy under some project where they will have to stay happy and click pictures for 100 days. What have you done with your life? I blog. Like it makes all the difference.

Storyteller

All of us know at least one such person who while narrating an incident talks about every single thing related to it. And makes even the most interesting episode dragging and boring. The person is usually in 'avoid as much as possible' list. I was one such kid. When I used to narrate something, I would talk about everything useless too. I preferred to provide the entire information no matter how redundant it was. People started avoiding asking questions to me and school started giving me prizes for my achievements. Not all was lost.

This reaction had its positive as well as negative effects. Negative effect was that by the time I became a bit sensible, I had become introvert. I rarely spoke with anyone, even at school. I went to school, attended tuitions, came home and shut myself in my room. I did nothing productive, made no new friends. I got along better with people who were older than me by at least 5 years. I started loathing the place I was living in. I wanted to move out asap, to a different city so that nobody from that circle could follow me. And I could start afresh. From a boring school girl to someone everyone wants to be friends with.

I shifted to Bombay. I was again very much introvert, conscious and hesitant initially. My wardrobe consisted of old fashioned clothes that nobody wore here. My English was not as fluent, as in my town, we communicated in Gujarati and at times Hindi. I was a hostelite, and most of the college people around me belonged to wealthy families. They travelled in their cars, ate in fancy restaurants, partied in posh pubs and lounges where if I go with them once, my half monthly pocket money would be gone. I could again see myself in the same situation. I was on the verge of going back to my old self.

But I decided to change this. I learnt to speak in fluent English. Since I knew the language well and grammar and vocabulary base was pretty strong, all I needed was a bit of practice and confidence. I started writing dramas for college, started a site on tripod to write down my thoughts which I got to know much later that it was nothing but blogging. My blog was about incidences. I wrote anecdotes, read them myself, started filtering information and I was ready. Ready to face the world with my new personality. The same stories for which I was made fun of became the source of entertainment for people. I now knew exactly what information to share and what to discard, where to change the pitch and where to take a pause. I was occasionally funny too, but mostly entertaining. I made friends, lots of them, who are still in touch with me.

Thus was born a storyteller. Who learnt the tricks of the trade hard way. Who later on told people that it's okay to crib, rant and tell stories. But make sure even the most boring things can be told in the most interesting manner. And it was not difficult. If a small town nobody could do it, anyone else could. 

Now my life is full of stories. I can create a story even from a very mundane situation. It comes naturally to me. I can talk to anyone about anything for any duration. And I am mostly interesting. And funny too if I like you. This helps me in teaching too. Students think that I am a very good teacher and they look forward to my lectures. Stories help. Always. Learn to be an interesting storyteller. It can take you places. It can save you from awkward situations and silences. And you are loved by everyone. 

Sadly, this also gets you a lot of attention. But the best part is, you can go back to being the boring storyteller. That's the real you. And that's what you will always remain at heart. A boring storyteller who is good at fooling people.

Time. Changes.

Time flies. Another year is about to get over. 90s got over some 14 years ago, and that itself sounds scary. These days kids learn to operate mobiles and ipads even before they learn to say their name. I was brought up in a small town where cordless phone was also considered a fancy technology in those days. We had to go to big cities like Bombay to get certain toys, or fancy branded clothes and stationery. Now you just have to order it online and it gets delivered at your doorstep. I don't even think office people use stationery much anymore. 

There was this landline era that amazed you. How easy it was to connect with people staying miles apart. Or talking to someone staying next door without meeting or shouting at the top of your voice. Or giving blank calls when his father picks up the call, making a girl call you as boys' calls are not allowed at your place. One ring means come down to play - I have been through everything. After growing up, I asked my parents if they didn't trust me as a child, they said that they did trust me, but they were just protective about me. Eventually they allowed everything they had put restrictions on back then. So yes, it was not about trust after all.

And clothes. I used to visit Bombay when I was in school. I used to see girls roaming around in shorts without any inhibition. In a small town, if you step out in a knee length dress, people will stare at you as if you are roaming around naked. Now with time, things have changed there as well. I have seen the time where daughters in law were not allowed to wear even salwar suit, and now some of them manage family business too.

Times have indeed changed. People are becoming more and more independent by being dependent on the technology. There is solution available on internet for every damn thing. Relationships are becoming more and more fragile. Distance keeps increasing between people. We take along portable gadgets to remain in touch with people instead of taking the pain of taking out time to meet them. Sms, phone calls, voice notes, blocking them, flirting with five people at a time, everything is connected with some social life of that person, it's a trend to be there on at least three different social networking sites, or messengers. You are easily reachable, but never available.

After facebook, how many people have you called and wished on their birthday? Instead of keeping in touch with them regularly, we use this to avoid them as much as possible. We stalk them just so that we remain secure about their commitment towards us. We want to foresee the heartbreak. We fight if one girl likes his every second post. I think I should deactivate all my social networking site accounts too the day I decide to settle down. I am that scared.

Girls get into depression if they don't get many likes on their pictures. Yes, I recently read about this. It was so called facebook addiction. And whatsapp addiction. "Last seen at" killed many relationships. We stopped using technology for good. We started abusing it. And misusing it. 

I don't know where did this post start from and where is it ending. I am writing after a long time. I have been trying to write something for quite some time, but couldn't come up with anything worth reading. I discarded at least five drafts before starting this one. I feel sad. I miss the old time. But I am happy too. I can avoid people easily. But do I really want this? Am I really out of place in this fast moving world? Changing oneself with time is a good thing, but what if it involves killing your true self completely? Am I ready for such a change? Is it worth doing so? 

Life. And many unanswered questions. And many unchallenged answers.

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.

Narcissism theory

I have always attracted narcissists - friends, acquaintances, enemies, lovers - most of the people falling in these categories whom I have gotten really close to have been narcissists. I have grown up listening to their stories about how great they have been, how the world revolves around them and runs just because of them. Somehow the other type doesn't make to my close circle. 

I can deal with narcissists easily. I have dealt with way too many of them. You just need to feed their ego continuously, and that's it. They are pretty simple after that. Rub them the wrong way and you are dealing with the most difficult specie on this earth. My success ratio has been almost perfect so far. Very very rarely I have felt difficulties dealing with them. They behave almost normally with me. Listen to me too. And feed my ego too. Ah, did I mention that I'm a narcissist too?

Let me not talk about myself for a change, and trust me it's very difficult not to do so. I am going to talk about a few narcissists I have met so far, none of the names will be disclosed of course. I don't want to see them lose the defamation case against me. They were (Some still are, and I talk to them even now) once really important to me. I cannot be so mean to them.

The biggest narcissist (that's like using two superlatives together) I have ever been with actually suffers from Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD). I don't think he is even aware about this. He knows he is a narcissist, but that's about it. The problem with narcissists is that they do not realise when they cross that thin line of being everything and being everything + proving others being nothing whatsoever. They make you cry for hurting their ego without even touching you. They make you admit that you were wrong about how they are not so good at a particular thing. They keep reminding you about this all their lives. They want to hear you apologise for this every single time you are even close to displease them or do something they do not approve of. This guy never tried to prove that I was nothing. He fell for me because I was smart or intelligent or whatever fancy term you want to give. 

Another one whose narcissism was all about proving how pathetic I am. Don't pity me because of this. I survived even there. That's the best thing about narcissists. They think they can face and win everything. Eventually when my normal mind stopped accepting the crap I fed it about fighting and surviving, and started feeding the crap about fighting and surviving without taking the shit, I left him. That's another quality that we possess. The moment we realise that something is not going to work out, we leave that thing before it leaves us. We want to walk out of it with our head held high.

Another one was actually a very nice guy. His narcissism was again the extreme one, but he was still quite bearable. He had this personality for quite a few years and had learnt to control his emotions and reactions to things and situations. He has been the perfect narcissist I have met so far. It's important to have a control over yourself if you really want the world to feed your ego. He learnt it quickly. Or maybe he chose to become a narcissist. I believe philosophy plays a very important role in converting people. Not many are born narcissists, or they have become one subconsciously. Some get converted into one too. After some bitter life experiences. Or after reading books. Who wouldn't want one's ego fed by others?

I can write about a few more people, but they would have similar personalities like the ones mentioned above. Some of the traits would be different, but they are quite insignificant. These people were a very important part of my life at different stages. But like everything else, they left. Or I left them. Whatever suits you. And they all have been amazing in their respective ways. A bit less amazing than me obviously, but good enough to be with me.

Phew! Writing about others takes more efforts than writing my own thoughts.

PS: Couldn't think of a good enough header, as usual.

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!

Writer's block huh?

I happened to discuss about writer's block with a friend the other day. She is a novelist and has been facing the problem of writer's block. She tries to write, but somehow ends up staring at the screen, the story is not developing the way it should and such other excuses. I would call them excuses as I have never really given a serious thought to "writing" and thus I never faced such a problem. Even on blogs, I write whatever is there on my mind; but for her, it is a serious business.

Still, my mind was not ready to accept the fact that someone could face something like a writer's block. I mean, if you want to write, you write. You do not as such require any particular topic and/or reason to write about. Come on, write about writer's block! Can it get any simpler?

And then I was thinking about those who make their living out of writing. Journalists, columnists, script writers, play writers, stand up comedians - writing is their bread and butter. They cannot afford to have such silly things as a block to come their way of business.

Anyway it would have been useless to argue with that friend as maybe she would have thought that novel writing wasn't really same as writing blogs or short articles or gigs. It may require intense thinking. Yes, maybe. I do not know. I have never been a novelist. But again, if you make your living out of writing novels, you work on tight deadlines, will you still let such blocks come in your way of earning or survival? Again, I wouldn't know.

Forget a storyteller, I have read about writer's block on blogs too. And it's surprising. How long does it take to a blogger to write 300 words? How difficult it is to write about one topic or combining two-three topics in one post when you can't write more than one paragraph about that particular topic? So many things keep happening around us - politics, bollywood, controversies, calamities, social issues, funny incidences. If nothing is there to write about and still you want to update the blog, post pictures. One or two pictures with their story is sufficient too!

Thus I call writer's block an excuse. Excuse not to write something at that time, excuse for laziness to think about something creative, or just a plain excuse. When the deadline is hovering over your head like a sword, you automatically churn out content. When the deadline is months away, the so called block takes over.

And we are quite used to blame everything on our emotional state. Fight with husband/boyfriend/mother/friend and whoever, and your mind gets blocked on its own. I have seen people write sad and depressing posts, dark poetry and even suicide notes during such times. And all these things fall within the brackets of the block.

I guess the whole block business is beyond me. I have never faced it and I don't think I will ever face it so far as I continue writing, if nothing then about rants. And rants never get over. You have at least 20 things to rant about every day. All you need to do is to pick up the interesting ones and write. This ensures audience too.

Now if you still say that you face writer's block, then I shall disown you!

Confusions and Decisions

Yet another post will not start with yet another definition of life. This has been a kind of common trend for me these days. I keep writing about how good/bad/boring/easy/sad/difficult/weird life is. And even while writing, I talk! Yes I write as if I am talking to you. This is how I converse. And it's all the more weird. Who talks on blogs? We write. But I talk!

Let me talk about the header. At time I really surprise myself. Being a girl, this should have been one of the first ten posts I wrote. But it's never too late. Even if I am late by 200+ posts. Really? Have I written more than two hundred posts in three years? Have I been so jobless, way too talkative, without people around me to listen to my rants or just addicted to blogging - but yes, I have written way too many posts. And I remember most of them. Anyway most of them are on similar lines. I have spoken about the same topic in different manner - yeah I can be super genius at times when I really want to.

And I digress again. I should stop writing headers for my posts. And just number them. Rather I should stop bothering about the connection between the header and the content. Anyway, coming back to the topic - I am a very confused person when it comes to simplest things of life. I create it for me in my head. The most difficult decisions come by easily. There is no confusion in there.

I know the reason too. Easy things in life don't require too many factors to consider, and they don't have too many people involved. This I can take my own time to analyze all the factors around them. Doing or not doing them doesn't really matter in the short run. But it may matter in the long run. This creates confusion. Difficult decisions are usually about people and us because of people who matter to us. If we matter to them equally, then there comes no question of the decisions. But when we realize that we do not matter to them, it's time we realize that we have to take a stand. It may hurt, make you miserable; but it will help you at the later stage.

At the end of the day, it's not only about who matter to us, but how much we matter to them too. You will find many people who will listen to what you have got to say, to give you advice, but to be with you forever - not even closest of friends stay around. And that brings us to decisions again. Should we become close to them? Or just be friends, meet them, spend quality time and get busy in our respective lives?

Confusion. Decision. Happiness. Sadness. Selfishness. And a few more topics to rant about. If only life was as simple as its spelling.

And I write

Writing is an addiction. A good one that is. And when you have a personal blog where you write your thoughts, your opinions and everything that going on in your mind. You ain't scared of being judged, for your friends already know you and readers don't really get what you are trying to say.

There are times when you are low and you write. There are times when you are too happy and share that with the whole world. There are times when you are lonely and writing becomes your companion. And there are times when you don't have any reason to write, yet you do.

I have heard the stories of the letter era. When people wrote to each other. It used to take a week to fifteen days for a letter to reach. A mother waited for her son's letter, a girl for her soon-to-be husband's letter. In the movies they showed how the heroine cried while writing the letter to the love of her life. Tears dropping on that old piece of parchment, spreading the ink, making it difficult to read. I used to laugh at it initially. Then my grandmother told me her stories, mother shared hers. I started developing emotions and sensitiveness towards such things. Instead of laughing, I started crying after watching such scenes.

By the time I was of the age when I had relationships, e-mails were a pretty new phenomenon. My first ever letter was an e-mail. Sadly I lost the account too and the e-mail too. But I vaguely remember writing a super sentimental mail which was "inspired" by several movie dialogues that I could twist enough to make them sound original. I remember paying a good 60 rupees for the cyber cafe access - which was equivalent to my college meal money for two days.

And now I blog. About everything. These entries stay here as a reminder. Of my thoughts and my mood. My highs and my lows. They remind me of people I met and people I lost. Some came along while some left behind. The thing that made me happy last year, made me very sad this year. How strange life was back then. How difficult it seemed then. And now when I look at the same life from this point, it seems less difficult, rather not difficult at all compared to the current life.

And every time I think I have written a lousy post. And after a year, the same post seems so awesome. Every time. The current time is difficult and bad, the same time from future seems easy. Isn't it all in our minds? And I digress again from the main topic. Wait, was was it? Ah, no not really digressing.

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!

Compliments etc.

I am a bit fame shy person. I do not like to be in the spotlight for any reason whatsoever. And it's a very popular trait of me among friends. They know how awkward I become when someone gives me a compliment. The scene is still better these days as I have learnt to say thank you in spite of being taken aback after the compliment, but I would still prefer a no-compliment scene any day.

Recently, a very close friend A happened to message me that he loves my blogs and I should take up writing seriously. Well, she is a very very dear friend and naturally she will like my work more. I told her that it was just a hobby for me. I have seen amazing writers around. I am not a writer, I am a ranter. I crib. I cannot create stories. A couple of other friends too said that they read my blog. They played safe and didn't mention how it was though :D

But it feels nice when people read you. Appreciation or trashing doesn't matter. I don't auto-publish my posts anymore. Earlier I did. At that time, I didn't have many friends. But slowly as my friends' list built up, I stopped doing that. Now all my accounts are separate. None of the account is inter-connected. Life is good.

And I recruited a couple of people for my firm. It might be a small thing, but it is a big deal for us. After working hard for four years, you are finally establishing your organization - ah bliss. Now the target is a house of my own in Mumbai. That's the toughest target as the property rates in Mumbai are sky high; but well, hope is always there.

Busy days are ahead for me. I will be running around a lot this week as there is a family function taking place before the weekend. And I have some plans for the weekend too. I may make a short trip somewhere if everything works out. Let's hope for the best.

Another ranting post, another show off post - I am practicing what I preach.

Typo story

So many of my posts are a result of conversations I have with people around me. A few people I love to talk to are not in the same town as me. Thus the only contact point is messengers and/or e-mails. I remember those days when I used to share an e-mail thread of 100 + mails with a few people within a span of an hour. Yes, there is always an option of calling up, but e-mailing has its own charm. And no it's not boring or pathetic if you really love the person.

And so the story starts. Now, people around me are amazing, that goes without saying. But they are mere mortals after all. And they make a lot of mistakes while typing. A few mistakes can easily be overlooked, but when one makes more typos than the actual sentence, you can be sure that it is written by Guria.

Now a days, she blames it on auto-correct. Yeah yeah, I believe her. Her each typo is epic. It makes me laugh like crazy for sure. While she apologizes for the typo, she makes a couple of more of them. Ah, she is mad.

Funnier thing is, she makes typos even when she types out an emoticon. Every single time. She gets it right in third of fourth attempt. Just to cover it all up, she starts praising me as she knows that's the best way to embarrass me. Kids will be kids.

And now I know I shall be murdered for this post. But I solemnly swear that each word of this post is true. And it was long overdue as well as I had told her more than a month back that I'd blog about this. The busy me and lazy me never got to write this one.

And finally I take a break, after almost a year. After a very refreshing trip to MP last year, this year I go to another beautiful destination. I shall blog about it if I have the patience and interest, otherwise see you soon with yet another rant.

The header story

OCDs are usually weird. I have already written a post about my OCDs here (you can choose not to click, you know). The list mentioned there didn't include quite a few points which I can think of right now. I don't know whether you can call them that, but I am too particular about these things.

Now, I have not been blogging regularly, reasons best known to me. I click on new post, start writing something, erase it and start it all over again. I don't know how many times I have done so. When I am unable to write anything, I simply go to edit post, delete the saved draft and log out. I cannot keep a single post saved in drafts. It makes me feel restless. Any incomplete work makes me feel so. Either I have to complete the post, or discard it completely. Or I mail a copy to myself if the post is amazing, which happens rarely.

Music - I am genre agnostic when it comes to music. I can listen to any damn song if it sounds good to my ears. I love to play the song I really like on repeat all day, for days. People around me go crazy as they get irritated after listening to the same song. I don't blame those poor souls, for I can be very irritating at times. Or maybe all the time. Who cares!

Coming back to the reason behind this post - the header story. I mentioned in my previous post that I keep digressing from the main topic of the post and talk about everything else. Well, same thing happened this time around too. That's how I am, deal with it. I cannot stick to a plan and write. I write whatever comes to my mind - while drafting an agreement, or while talking to a friend, while listening to music, while watching tv. when I have so many distractions, how can you expect me to stick to a topic.

Thus I shall digress, each time I write. Not purposely, but it happens. Always. When I decided to write a post about headers, I thought I would write something funny about headers, but as usual, got digressed :P

So all you wonderful people who are still clueless about the connection between the post and the header, you may continue to be so. You are anyway going to read me as your love for me is blind (lucky me). For the rest of you, stop looking for the link between the post and the header; there ain't any!