All About Perspectives

A couple of weeks back, while scouring the internet for cute dog videos (because dogs are love-deal with it) I happened to land on a page that described Nietzsche’s theory of perspectivism.
Don’t even get me started on how that escalated.

Now I have read bits and pieces of his philosophies, but never felt like ‘delving deep’ into the ideas he propagated. Philosophers and too much philosophy can mess with your mind.

So after I devoured the Wikipedia page enough to satiate my mind, I felt a certain sense of ..pride? Let me elucidate the point I’m trying to make by using (Hermione’s) my time turner and taking you back to the year 2014.

I’m a firm believer in perspectives. I feel that people never truly tell you information in its true form, but rather their version of it.

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Is it a room, a painting, the sky or a building?

Every person has this window of comprehension. The bigger the window, the wider the perspective. Knowledge that we receive is always torn, bent, twisted, interpreted and distorted by the mind that delivers it. It’s never really ..pure.

This is what I have been believing since the last three years. And now that I found there’s an actual theory justifying and claiming the same thing is unreal! I mean the fact that a small, private and less discussed principle I’ve withheld and believed in for so long resonates with an actual philosophy from, what history calls, one of the greatest philosophers of all time – Nietzsche, is surreal! I think I should be allowed to have a fleeting, teeny-tiny moment of pride?

But if you apply this theory to every piece of information you’ve ever received, it can seem a little scary.

Whatever news you watch on the television, is a version and interpretation of the journalists and the writers, apart from factual information of course.

Like I read somewhere once,‘How do you know your hero is righteous, if you haven’t heard the story from the villain’s perspective.’

Perspectives and point of views can revamp both the connotation and the core idea behind an event.

The book critic might consider Lord of the Rings to be the greatest work of fantasy but maybe it isn’t? (Psstt ..it is.)

So our opinions are limited to our window (or scope) of perceiving it.

There is no truth, there are only perspectives.

One person’s idea of the ‘right’ kind of behavior might not conform with yours?

This entire blog article right here is also a perspective. Care to refute?


Note- Once upon a time there was this weird, ethereal boy in my class. His hobbies included doodling on tables, minimal human interaction and secretly seeking the meaning of the universe.  We spent two years in Middle school which consisted of him doodling on the table and I admiring it. That was the only human form of interaction he was programmed for.

Then we lost touch and he left the city.(Or maybe he went to another galaxy to fulfill some strange odyssey?) But years later in 2017 and due to some very peculiar turn of events, we met again! And now that he’s capable of having a human like conversation and even telling me about his plans to open a music store, I can safely vouch for the credibility of his blog, that he’s launched very recently.

People of WordPress, please spare some time and visit my very talented friend Yash’s blog. He has phenomenal writing skills and his comic books (that he creates when he’s on Earth for the time being) are a cherry on the cake. He talks of abstract stuff superimposed with a witty sense of humor, creative metaphors and peculiar diagrammatic representations of kebab rolls.

His blog is:

Bipolar Bear

Do visit and leave a review. Both the writer and the blog mean a lot to me.

I’d be grateful.

About Empathy

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Let me ask you a question.

How many times have you been on the receiving end of someone ‘venting out’ stuff on you?

Have you ever been elevated to this role model of impossible empathy that you can no more find people understanding that maybe, at times, you need a friend like that too?

I once read somewhere that you cannot serve with an empty heart. You need to be emotionally balanced enough to soak in the imbalances of others. And frankly, helping people lighten their load, if only by being a patient listener, is what humans, as a community is all about.

That’s how we survive; helping each other, promoting each other’s growth, celebrating the victories, mourning the loses.

But the material point is, I’ve only ever found so many people willing enough to empathize these days. Sympathy? Yes, that is present in abundance. But empathy? The art of putting yourself in someone else’s shoes and trying to actually feel their misery?

That is what lacks.

In taxing times, you don’t need people nodding at you and telling you the ‘wicked ways of the world,’ or that somewhere in extreme parts of the Earth people are starving; that doesn’t quite put their tumult to rest now does it?

We need more people bold enough to say, ‘I’m here for you if you need me,’ and brave enough to mean it. We need more people to re-establish other people’s faith in this morally declining world.

It’s hard being a vessel all the time. Vessel open to all forms of lamentations, grief, agitation and pain and still manage to uphold the countenance of a calm face, comforting eyes and an understanding touch.

But hey, I’m here to tell you it is okay.

I’ve been on receiving end of the laments of a lot of different people. I’ve been the receiving end of the adults in my family.

I’ve tried my best empathizing with people 30 years ahead of me. I’ve heard my much younger friends and tried my best to console.

I’ve listened to strangers online. I’ve even maintained a tolerable disposition in front of people I generally dislike.

But.

I’ve also seen people get gradually distracted and lose sense of the conversation when I’m at the pouring end. I’ve also seen people fidgeting with their cell phone while I eventually, with a few hesitant, muffled words succumb to silence. I’ve seen people lose interest when the conversation is no more revolving around ‘them.’

I’ve also noticed general apathy in the eyes of the receiver.

I’ve seen it and I’ve been quiet. Maybe that’s just how the world works. However, what I observed during this course was, people with the lack of a listening heart, often find solace within themselves. They crumble and crawl inside and eventually find rest within the comforting box of their own warmth.

Eventually, these people stop voicing out and get used, or rather comfortable, finding their peace within themselves. Or to take an extra daring step, maybe in a few pages of literature?


Can you guess why I chose a picture of a lighthouse with this post? Let me know in the comments. 

Carnival of Dust

I narrow my eyes and try to make sense of the tortuous blue-black lines, snaking their way through the map of this strange city. The sun begins to dip in the west, emanating pale gleams of warm light, like dying embers of a small fire.

rub my hands and breathe out some hot air, making me feel like a dragon, only this one exhales air. These dark, silent pine trees make it difficult to comprehend the map; I raise it slightly to catch some light before it finally gets dark.

At last, I make out where I am. I’m almost at the edge of these woods, where my odyssey would end. Longfully I look toward the roughly trodden path, at its end lies my elysium.

I trek and trodd, jump and wade and at last I hear the music. Faint, distant hum of a melody playing from some old instrument. Like a drunk jazz musician, it goes on playing. I’m close.

I make it through the final shrub, and in front of me lies the carnival. Abandoned, unkempt, uncared and nested beyond the pines, this is the place I saw in my dream.

The roller coaster still works as it climbs atop steadily, until it plummets to the ground, in one great leap. The roller coaster is empty.

The bulbs above the desolate trivia game still glow- on and off, on and off. 

The screen above the horoscope machine still blinks red- ‘Insert Coin Here.’ 

The rider less Carousel Horse goes up and down. Round and round the brightly lit centrepiece.

All you hear is solitary music from dying carnival swings. Nobody has been here for a very long time.

I make my way to the place I wanted to go. The moment where maybe I’d find my answer.

I head towards the ominously rotating giant wheel. The wheel pauses and ignoring my fear of heights, I shiver as I lock myself on a seat. The swing immediately powers up and takes me slowly to the top. I see the carnival receding below and the night sky coming closer and closer.

The moment is near.  

And just as I reach the top, the swing creaks and halts, leaving me hanging in the air, above the desolate and hollow carnival. I hold my breath and blink. Waiting.

A soft wind blows and sends a shiver down my spine as I finally breathe.

No answer comes.
Nothing but silence.

More silence.

At some distance in the star studded sky, I see the sparkles of a firework. Someone somewhere fired it up for me? Another one races to the top with its burning tail, finally exploding into the night, sending vapors of fire everywhere.

This moment on this brightly lit, rusted giant wheel is where I thought I’d find you. Waiting for me. On this buckled seat. And maybe, we’d share this together. The distance, the height, the dark, this cold, the spark.

But maybe, this is how it ends and this is why the dream brought me here. Wistfully, I smile. For here it is, that I’ve found my closure.

Into the Wild

After graduating in May 1990, Christopher McCandless left his home and all of his material possession for a trip across America. He ‘literally’ burnt all of his money, left his car and lived off the road for two years and walked into Alaska in April 1992.

A lot of people criticize Christopher and lambaste the public for portraying him as a hero. They call him reckless, inconsiderate and even narcissistic.

I could write an entire book about how all these claims are utterly and fallaciously wrong.

The boy was a bright and active student. He did well in class. He read good, inspiring books. He was agile, dynamic and friendly. He even made sure he graduated before he left; hence showing awareness so as to abide by his filial duties before reaching out to his calling. How can people say he was reckless?

The boy carried no IDs, no money, no possession and craved to be off the radar. And they say he wanted ‘popularity?’ If he wanted fame, he would’ve made sure people knew where he was.

Understand, that there must be something more persuasive than ‘fame’ to lure a boy with a bright future to abandon his affluent life and walk into nothingness. There was something more than that. 

Chris McCandless

Real picture of Christopher in Alaska at an abandoned bus where he took refuge.

Even though he died around September, he still scrambled and survived Alaska for 3 months, unguided and alone. He was caught by police authorities several times, and he still managed to escape without jail only by persuasive talking.

And they say he wasn’t smart. 

They say Chris had no idea what he was doing. I say, chances are, he knew EXACTLY what he was doing. He was not some hopeless romantic who got infatuated with some book and abandoned his affluent home. He was aware that he might end up dead. He knew the risks involved. He knew that there was a price to pay.

The reason I cannot stop being utterly fascinated with Chris is that I completely understand why he did it. I cannot put it to words, but I know how he felt, what drove him to take the perilous step. What coaxed him to give everything up, to leave them all behind and willingly walk away. I understand how claustrophobic he felt among people. I understand he was mad with the world. I know he was looking for an escape. I know he wanted peace. If I had more guts and less excuses, I would do something exactly like him.

I know what it’s like to live with a mind that won’t ever shut up. 

He certainly took some wrong decisions, and there are opinions of his where I greatly disagree, but I still admire and sort of pity him. Even empathize with him. He is exactly the kind of person I could sit and talk with for hours. The people he spent time with during his escapade said that the boy could talk and talk about the things that mattered. He would listen to anything that was new to him. He had a willingness to learn. A never quenching curiosity.

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He was loved and missed by everyone he met during his travel. He made an impression on every  body. All of them said that the boy was special, that there was something unique about him.

In September 1992, his decomposed body was found by a party of moose hunters.

Wherever he is right now, I only hope he found the peace he was looking for.

I’ve met a lot of people in various groups who read Into the Wild and were rendered speechless. I really urge you to read it. Please. It’s going to change your perspective regarding a lot of things. And if you do manage to read it, please send me an email. I long to discuss this book with someone.

Until then.

Alexander Supertramp, in our hearts forever.

Love always,

Your blogger.

Anne’s Last Letter

A couple of months back, I read ‘The Diary of Anne Frank’ without the slightest notion of how deeply it is going to move me. Had I even an ounce of idea of the deep impact Anne’s words would have on me, I’d have prepared myself better. Nonetheless, I’m glad I read it. Some of you might have a hint of who she was.

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Anne Frank

 

Anne was the youngest daughter of Otto Frank, a Jewish man who fled Germany along with his family and went into hiding after the rising oppression against the Jews in the 1940s. Anne spent two years underground in what she called, ‘The Secret Annexe’ and wrote about her experience in a diary her father gave her on her 13th birthday.

There are certain entries in her diary so hauntingly beautiful, that I was nothing short of bewildered after reading them. Although all her entries are a proof of how mentally strong and capable she was, along with displaying her out of the world writing skills. But there is one particular diary entry, her very last before she was captured by the Nazis, the one that she wrote on Tuesday, August 1st, 1944.

I literally held my breath while reading it. No song, lyric or poem, has ever succeeded in describing so precisely,this disposition of mine, that I find so hard to make sense of, at times. Every single word she wrote in her last entry was directly describing who I am as a person. And because this 15 year old did a far better job than I ever could, in writing about a personality that is strikingly similar to mine, I chose to share it here. This is was she wrote:

Dearest Kitty,
“A bundle of contradictions” was the end of my previous letter and is the beginning of this one. Can you please tell me exactly what “a bundle of contradictions” is? What does “contradiction” mean? Like so many words, it can be interpreted in two ways: a contradiction imposed from without and one imposed from within.
The former means not accepting other people’s opinions, always knowing best, having the last word; in short, all those unpleasant traits for which I’m known. The latter, for which I’m not known, is my own secret.

As I’ve told you many times, I’m split in two. One side contains my exuberant cheerfulness, my flippancy, my joy in life and, above all, my ability to appreciate the lighter side of things. By that I mean not finding anything wrong with flirtations, a kiss, an embrace, an off-colour joke. This side of me is usually lying in wait to ambush the other one, which is much purer, deeper and finer. No one knows Anne’s better side.
I hate having to tell you this, but why shouldn’t I admit it when I know it’s true?

My lighter, more superficial side will always steal a march on the deeper side and therefore always win. You can’t imagine how often I’ve tried to push away this Anne, which is only half of what is known as Anne-to beat her down, hide her. But it doesn’t work, and I know why.

I’m afraid that people who know me as I usually am will discover I have another side, a better and finer side. I’m afraid they’ll mock me, think I’m ridiculous and sentimental and not take me seriously. I’m used to not being taken seriously, but only the “light-hearted” Anne is used to it and can put up with it; the “deeper” Anne is too weak. If I force the good Anne into the spotlight for even fifteen minutes, she shuts up like a clam the moment she’s called upon to speak, and lets Anne number one do the talking. Before I realize it, she’s disappeared.

So the nice Anne is never seen in company. She’s never made a single appearance, though she almost always takes the stage when I’m alone. I know exactly how I’d like to be, how I am… on the inside. But unfortunately I’m only like that with myself. And perhaps that’s why-no, I’m sure that’s the reason why I think of myself as happy on the inside and other people think I’m happy on the outside. I’m guided by the pure Anne within, but on the outside I’m nothing but a frolicsome little goat tugging at its tether.

The happy-go-lucky Anne laughs, gives a flippant reply, shrugs her shoulders and pretends she doesn’t give a darn. The quiet Anne reacts in just the opposite way. 

If I’m quiet and serious, everyone thinks I’m putting on a new act and I have to save myself with a joke.

Yours, Anne M. Frank


You notice the ‘deeper, more conscious, more serious and more fragile Anne she’s talking about? And how she prefers to keep her hidden, for the people around her are not ‘used’ to her brooding, vulnerable side?

How people have always seen her as a boisterous, chirpy girl who jokes and laughs? And how whenever she even tries to bring out her ‘inner’ Anne, people find it absurd and she’s afraid they might ridicule her silent and deeper side, so she quickly hides it and ‘escapes with a joke?’

I know so many people who’re exactly the same. Too afraid to lay themselves bare. For they fear their vulnerability might be ridiculed. Bringing out your inner depth only to have it derided and not taken seriously is a form of unaddressed humiliation. It doesn’t make me angry. It hurts. Which is even worse than anger.

And all this time I’ve been trying to find the right words to explain this behavior. And Anne did it at 15.

To the Woods

I hadn’t expected it to be this cold or I would’ve brought the sweatshirt mama bought me last Christmas. For now, I hope my flannels will keep me warm. It is funny how in your last moments, you’re supposed to think about the ones you love, or all of those rare moments when life seemed extraordinary. You’re supposed to be having flashbacks of your favorite birthday parties, or the day you got your first kiss or the day you went to your very first carnival.

I smile, trying desperately hard to light a fire in this dark. I rub two stones together, little sparks lighting up with every strike, ultimately giving birth to a young, warm fire. My eyes reflect the yellow glow they receive and somehow, I don’t feel cold anymore. Rubbing my hands, I take a glimpse of the valley far below. Dark, quiet; like the trees were asleep, unburdening themselves.

Dry leaves crunch and break beneath my worn out shoe. They’re going to be one year old tomorrow. He gave me these when I turned 21. A quiet wind blew through the woods, fanning my young flames. The trees sighed and looked down upon my little figure. A young guy huddled by a tiny fire, smiling on the adventure that lay ahead.

I wonder if I’ll be missed. The son who had it all, but somehow didn’t? The obliging one who went astray? The exchange of a present on his 21st birthday, that changed everything. In one year, I was no more their obliging son. I was, according to them, ‘confused.’

What would’ve happened if they had said yes and we hadn’t run away? Would we be happier? Would our Sunday dinners include him too? Would we be free? Would we be allowed to stand on the altar? The smile on my face fades away, as I watch the dying embers of my fire. What will they think when I’m gone?

Slowly I stand up and wade my way to the forest’s end where lay the bare ground. The part where I could directly face the valley down below; almost hearing the sound of all the lives that slept in it. Do those birds ever have to run away?

I lie down and gaze at the star studded night and catch a glimpse of a falling star. I hear footsteps approaching and somehow my smile comes back.
‘I thought you said you needed dry wood for our fire,’ he says as he lies down next to me.
Holding hands we gaze at the night, thinking of what would happen next.

Somewhere in the distance, a star twinkled a little more brightly.

Chasing Life

Over the past couple of months a new form of concern has managed to make a home in my mind. I’m not allowing it to worry me, but since I observe various forms of it every single day it has caused me to brood for a considerable amount of time.

But what really sparked this natter and the anxious tapping of my keyboard was a recent post I read by one of my most beloved inspirations, Elizabeth Gilbert. I am short of the right words to describe how much I admire this woman and what she is doing for the society. I might go on a rant about my admiration for her, but let us preserve that for another post.

Everywhere I look around these days, I see people choking. Everyone toiling in the sun, anxious and worried about what is to come. Some are anxious about the future, some are stuck in stagnancy. The younger ones are only starting to get accustomed to societal pressure, the youth are worried about building for themselves a life that society approves, and the adults are worried about what is in store for their kids’.

I see people with tragic levels of anxiety and nervousness for life. Almost nobody these days has the courage to live for themselves. At this point I must state that I certainly do not exclude myself from the list.

In one post, Elizabeth (Liz) vividly recalled a story about her cousin. She reflected how her cousin left her secure and comfortable job and decided to start afresh in a new country. A country as beautiful and promising as New Zealand. She told how her cousin had reached that point of stagnancy in her life, where no matter what she did, dissatisfaction prevailed most of the time. So she decided to begin again. After reaching one saturation point, she garnered all her strength and moved away where everything worked out for her. Today, Elizabeth says, her cousin looks back and thinks that the only thing she needed to make herself incandescently happy was courage.

Courage to let go of everything that was pulling her down. This is what I see everyday. All the people I meet; everyone is being pulled down. Everyone is trying to find answers. Everyone is busy trying to please the world and present to it a facade of prosperity, wealth and happiness. It is shocking and it is grieving to see people having to go through so much just to fulfil their obligations to the world.
I see people fed up of their jobs, fed up of the people around them, fed up of their course of study, fed up of stress. Yet almost nobody has the courage to break the fetters. They spend their entire life in pursuit of happiness yet they never find it.

People continue chasing in the entire race not realizing to stop and breathe for a while, for the fear of being left behind is daunting, isn’t it? I fear we all make the same mistake. Choose survival over living. The fear grips us in its fists and we do everything to survive. Ignoring our passion and our inner calling and gearing up for the race.

But for some (like Elizabeth’s cousin) this becomes unbearable at one point. Some do manage to break the shackles, some do manage to tread the untread path. Some do manage to take the risk, give themselves a chance and just for a while, start living for themselves.
I ardently believe that it is never too late to start afresh. I do not encourage people to abandon their filial or any other responsibilities, but what I do urge and request from this post is, to please stop being your worst critic and start approving of the things you do.

Love yourself to the point that you would be able to garner the courage you need to let go. The key is satisfaction and it will unlock the door to happiness.
Make a plan in such a way that you seek and find happiness along with fulfilling your duties. Don’t ever feel that time has run out. As Elizabeth once stated, ‘If you’re not dead yet, you’re not done yet.

joie-de-vivre.

Love always,
Your blogger.

So what is Conformity?

 

I’m reading a book on social psychology these days, as a part of my goal to completely and fully understand the human mind. (Seriously, how free am I?) And in the pages I have managed to leaf through until now the author has again and again talked about conformity. He has talked about peer pressure. He has elucidated  on how our behavior changes when we are in propinquity to certain people. He has talked about how badly we want to be accepted.

He has talked about all the things every body hates to talk about, let alone accept it. Also, this post might seem preposterous to certain people, I request you to maintain your rationality and not take anything personally.

Have you ever wondered how your sense of self esteem is directly proportional to your social media account? The rate might vary, but don’t you feel a tinge of satisfaction when the likes cross 200? Or do you judge someone’s instagram based on the number of followers they have? Be honest about it. Do you feel .. ‘proud’ after crossing 1000 followers?

This ‘feeling’ that I’m talking about, this is called ‘conformity.’ Or in simpler terms, ‘validity.’ The feeling of being accepted. The reason why we post it and then wait for the notification box to turn red, is because we crave validity. We crave approval. We crave people nodding their virtual heads seconding us.

I] Why exactly do you ‘dress better’ for a date? I mean, it’s not a rule right? You might as well flaunt those striped pajamas? Then why? Some inner voice telling you to ‘make an impression?’

II] In a hypothetical group of 5 people, four of them say the correct answer is B. You were confident that it was A until all four of them said the correct answer is B. Now you’re starting to have second thoughts, why?

III] Our hypothetical friend Jack has gone for an aquarium visit with 10 of his other friends. He points to the water and says, “Look Bill! That’s a whale!” Bill looks at him confused, “Uh, Jack? That’s clearly a Dolphin.”
Jack looks at Bill pitifully, “Uh NO, THAT is a whale?!”
Bill turns around to the other 8 friends, “Guys! Jack here thinks this beautiful fish is a whale!”
The group glares at Jack like he just killed a unicorn.
“What is wrong with you Jack,” they mutter together “That is a Dolphin!” 

NOW, Jack is starting to doubt himself.”I guess it is a dolphin ..haha how silly of me. “

Now obviously the 9 friends were paid for the experiment to call the fish a dolphin when it was clearly a whale.

But why did Jack change his opinion?

These three examples clearly illustrate what validity and conformity is. Something works inside our brain that makes us crave approval. Something that forces us to mutate our behavior in order to be accepted. How group pressure can sometimes force us to act differently. How we start to self-doubt when the group stands against us.

How ‘nonacceptance’ causes us emotional despair and causes harm to our mental balance. And how being accepted by our peers can instantly elevate our mood.

How it often gets intimidating when you’re the only person defending a cause. How group acceptance is equivalent to comfort. How social media has only added another platform for encouraging low self-esteems and high rate of acceptance seekers. In fact, the entire social media framework works on this. How the fear of not being accepted has its roots deep within us.

This helped me draw my personal conclusion. Even though our want to be validated is strong and almost over powering our smallest of actions, yet breaking this need of social acceptance is one trait that characterizes the truly successful. Those who manage to defend their cause without being deterred by those around them. Those who manage to break the shackles. Those who are ‘successful’ in its literal sense. Those who prefer to sail against the wind. Although, it is not an easy task.

For now, I cannot promise you any solution to this problem, the only thing I can do is urge you to break your own fetters. Or at least be brave enough to stand for yourself.

But the day my research bores something substantial, I will write another post as an answer to this very post.


 

Also, I would urge you all to please go and check my good friend Divyanshi’s blog for she just entered the blogging world contributing her creative ideas for fashion. She is one of the most talented people I have met and portrays on her blog her own colorful and unique sense of fashion and models it all herself. Please visit her space and give her some healthy reviews. Thank you!

Show it like you mean it!

A couple of weeks back, I happened to attend this seminar on Body Language and its affects on our surroundings. It was undoubtedly pretty informative, like that lady said, non verbal communication is far more important than verbal.
She claimed, that sometimes what you speak doesn’t have any potential impact on people if they don’t get the right aura from you.
Your posture, gestures, eyes contact etc. etc.

Although, during her session I was also having a separate conference in my own mind on a round table with my various thoughts sitting across, facing each other, in grave seriousness and they were all initially skeptical of her claims.

Which means, I think sometimes, if you can master the art of using the right words, you do not need to rely on actions. If what you only need is to get your job done because of course if you groan and yell ‘I love you’ with froth bubbling in your mouth and bloodshot eyes, the listener would probably call the police rather than loving you back.

Anyway, apart from this, she talked about hugs. Yep. The most awkward gesture ever invented in the entire human history. I’m telling my personal opinion, I find hugs massively awkward and I’m almost terrified of them. I don’t even know why. It’s more like an innate thing. I mean of course if someone offers me a hug I graciously accept it and give it back. But I always thought they were unnecessary, like do you really need to rub your body with someone else’s body to feel fulfilled?

My friends grow really resentful when I justify myself. But they also kinda feel sorry for me, especially the ones with a boyfriend. They say it’s one of the most ‘re-assuring’ feelings. And then I start feeling sorry for myself too.

And the ‘God of Questions’ rises again with a notepad and asks,
“What if it really is a coveted comfort and somehow because you’re so cold, you’re deprived of it?”

“Go away ..stupid God of Questions.” I shrug.

It’s true. I have never experienced that ‘warm, fuzzy, protective, secure and loving feeling’ people claim they get when they hug. Maybe because I haven’t yet stood at the airport with tears sliding down my cheeks to bid farewell to my boyfriend who’s going abroad for studies/job and even though our destiny is tied together I still miss every inch of him and then everything goes into slow motion as we give ‘THE HUG.’
*sigh*

BUT, coming back to the point, she (the seminar lady) gave some fine points to prove the powers of a hug. (She must really love to hug.)

First, she said,
“Have you ever noticed how a baby, when he’s restless and anxious after getting into his mother or father’s arms, eventually stops crying? How he suddenly feels protected? Warm? At ease? Comforted?”
(Seriously, a baby knows better than me.)

Second, she says that sometimes when we see someone sitting cross armed, it signifies:
1) They’re either not open to any kind of conversation or arguments.
2) They’re insecure. Depending on the situation. That’s why that crossing of hands is a sort of hug for themselves, to feel protected. They don’t realise this, of course.

Now this rung a bell in me. Very interesting thought. I still wondered how completely aghast she would be if I told her my opinions about hugs. I can imagine her pinning me under her arms and yelling,
“Feel it! Feel it you foolish girl! Feel the love!”

Even though I still haven’t been completely able to be comfortable around this idea, I’ll try and dig a little more into this. See if it really works. See if I’m mentally handicapped to understand such high levels of emotion. Or I’m just not designed that way.

Meanwhile, has anyone had that ‘another world’ experience while hugging here? Let me know!

Sweater Weather

Have you ever wondered how weather affects your mood? Like when the sun is glaring and heat strokes sweep the city, and you have to be out for some unavoidable errand, you are bound to feel sulky, don’t you? Nobody likes to get barbecued alive.

Then there’s the festive winters. Reminding us to sometimes stop and lay back, spend time with family. Perhaps that’s why the snow blocks the road? To force people to stay inside?
“Okay, you frenzied humans, it’s time you paused your work and stayed back!  Yes you Mr. Busy -Corporate-Man-with-a-Starbucks! GET BACK. No work today!” says the snow.

As we enter the doorway to Autumn, when the trees shed their leaves to remind us that it’s okay to start afresh every year. To let go of anything no longer significant in our life and give ourselves a spell of wintery break, and then welcome fresh greenery again, we find ourselves welcoming a new spell of season, Autumn.

I sat alone under a tree today and felt the weather change. The sun no longer felt corrosive, it was comforting. A gush of wind blew across me, causing the tree above to wave so frantically like it was being tickled. I felt the wind give me a warm embrace, reminding me of Autumn’s arrival.
And after what feels like a lifetime, I felt at peace, though momentarily.

Those who’ve been reading this blog for a while, might already be aware of this blogger’s irrevocable love for the Winter season. To the new ones, well now you do. Or if you’re more curious, go here.

Sometimes, as I stroll through the field in the morning, the slight chill in the air reminds me that winter is just around the corner. Like someone poking me to remember and prepare for its magnificent arrival. I have always eagerly waited for winters and sometimes I do feel that maybe, it waits for me too. So in the meantime, it gives me small hints in the form of these occasional chills, like the smell of a delicious soup taking its good time to brew, but reminding me that it’ll soon be on my table.

I can’t say what affect does the weather have on you. Some people might take it like an ordinary affair. “Oh the Earth just revolves, so that’s not really a big deal!”

But I think, that the seasons are a wonderfully apt example of how changes can also be beautiful and how each one of them carries with itself a blessing, though initially hidden as an adversity.

Happy Autumn to each one of you.
And as for your little blogger, she can’t wait for December.

I Drive

The road is long and I cannot see the end, yet my foot on the accelerator is stiff as I drive through the unknown.

A mountain range is following me through my journey as I glance at it frequently while I drive. I may feel bored of its perpetual rocky view, yet it refuses to leave my side; it stands there with all its might.  Like it’s somehow tied to my fate.
Just like a soul mate.

I drive and I see a lamp. Covered in a layer of nightly frost. A warm abode for the buzzing moths. It glows in the dark and shows me the way. The right, safe and honest way. I can see the direction it’s steering me in and I know I’ll be safe. For this lamp has brought several lost, to the right, successful place.
Just like a teacher.

I drive further and my feet ache. I am thirsty and I start to faint. I slam the break near a flowing stream, getting thinner and thinner as I further my journey. I lie down on its moist, grassy bed. I drink the crystal water and continue the path I tread.
The stream was a gushing river when I was young. Now it’s thin and old. But it still promises me solace and asks me to move even when I’ve lost my hold.
Just like a parent.

I resume my drive and the road ahead is no more straight. It bends and breaks and jerks. There are tortuous loops and bumpy potholes. There is a storm and thunder and lightning crashes on my way. The wind is strong and it tries to steer me away. I shudder and cry and start to lose my faith.  But my car doesn’t stop and I pass through unhurt, unbent, unbroken.
I pass through all the vicissitudes of life.

There comes a forest. Lush and green. Long deciduous trees wave at me through the dark. I pass by them anyway, and glance at them through my rear view, they are still waving at me. I prefer not to stop, they are ones I already left behind.
Just like the relations that never work out.

I once again begin to lose my way, and the path becomes darker. There is no light and I’m lost and scared. Suddenly a voice whispers from above and I look up to a scintillating view of a thousand stars. The night sky now burns with a silver glow, and now I realise I’m not alone. For these stars may not be visible throughout the path, but I know they’d always be there. Bright and cheering, guiding me midway.
Just like friends.

The journey continues and the stream is no more present, but the  moist earth it left behind reminds me of its existence. I come across a diversion, where the path breaks into two. I stand there still, wondering, fearing which one to leave and which one to choose. The mountain range is enveloped in fog, and the stream is no more there. The stars are hidden among the clouds and the forest wouldn’t care.
I am alone and my mind wonders. I close my eyes and breath in the air and ask the person inside me. I ask my little beating heart to resolve the query for me.
The air soothes my lungs and my body becomes light. A little voice inside me tells to follow the path to the right.
When nothing worked I closed my eyes and allowed the air to wake me up from inside.
Just like our conscience.

I turn right and I know not where I’ll go. Where the path would bend and where it would flow.
But I know this I’d drive unbowed and unbent, my faith strong and unshaken, the river will flow and the stars will shine, while I tread this road that is my life.

Up for a drink?

Right from the beginning when I was a little girl I’ve had an intense dislike for the people who drink excessively. You might think of me as ignorant or impractical or tag my views as unfair or biased but believe you me, I have my reasons.

Do I even have to take the time to name people who died at a very young age due to excessive alcohol intake? Not forgetting to mention their precious talents and abilities that were just beginning to blossom; died with them. I’m not stating my points based on statistical data fetched out of the internet; I have SEEN families destroyed due to one small (or rather huge) flaw in one member of the family-drinking.

Any man who has an addiction for drinking has a very dangerous hamartia I believe.

Let me enlighten you further, men and women both should be aware of the harm and the damage they can do by drinking. I’m going to be a little sexist here, but men can do more damage, which logically IS true.

When one consumes excessive alcohol, they lose control of their mind. People start abhorring the things around them. They become oblivious and prone to indignation. Men start channelizing their anger on their families or worse, themselves.

They indulge in abuse and violence. How can a man even live with the thought of hitting his own family? Would he force his strength upon them for something as trivial as ALCOHOL?
Oh and not forgetting to mention the glorifying image you set forth in front of your kids.
The brilliant movie BOYHOOD portrays efficiently the damage a ‘drink’ could do. Otherwise our protagonist teenager Mason wouldn’t have said, “And it sure would have saved me a parade of drunken assholes” for his ‘FATHERS’.

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When a person’s dependency on alcohol results in problems with interpersonal relationships, an inability to control alcohol consumption and a disregard of the damage that the alcohol is doing to the spouse and the family, the reality is that there is an issue of alcohol dependency.

Drinking too much can harm your health. Excessive alcohol use led to approximately 88,000 deaths and 2.5 million years of potential life lost (YPLL) each year in the United States from 2006 – 2010, shortening the lives of those who died by an average of 30 years
Source: http://www.cdc.gov/alcohol/fact-sheets/alcohol-use.htm

Unfortunately, consuming liquor is deemed as being ‘cool’ these days. It is more like a #trend. It was bad enough to see teenagers ruining their lives due to binge drinking; it is even worse to see them glorify it like it’s something to be proud of.

Apart from emotional problems drinking causes a parade of inevitable health problems like anxiety, depression, frustration, anger and even cancer.

People may put up a counter argument saying that a little consumption of alcohol is good for health. Okay-fair enough.

But my dear friend, IF YOU DON’T HAVE THE NERVES TO CONTROL YOUR INEBRIATED SELF then please .. don’t drink.  

The bottom line is, if you are an excessive drinker,

  • If you come home every night and beat your wife and then your kids and go to sleep and then repeat the entire process,
  • If you almost got yourself killed due to drunk driving,
  • If you’re almost on the line of poverty due to inefficiency and unemployment,
  • If you’re flunking every subject at school and almost got a girl pregnant and most probably won’t be accumulating the grades for college,

and lastly,

  • If you’ve already done the above and now look back with remorse then I have one small request for you-

QUIT IT. STAY AWAY FROM IT.

It is better to devoid yourself of a single pleasure than to watch your entire world collapse in front of your eyes because of it.

Do it for your family, do it for your friends, do it for your colleagues, but most importantly-do it for Yourself.

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Revamp the Human in You

“Solitude is a crucial ingredient to creativity.”
-Susan Caine

It becomes somewhat difficult to be alone and by yourself when you’re constantly circled in a labyrinth of ‘News Feed’ , ‘Status Updates’ and ‘Photo Uploads.’ Yesterday, I accessed my Facebook account after 3 months approximately and it wasn’t even 24 hours when I had a severe headache and I felt a strange indignation within myself, so much that I closed it again.

Anyway, that is not what is important. The important thing is, the last 3 months have been the most productive 3 months of my life. After I quit Facebook, Instagram and all other social networks; I realized I had so much time in hand that I could channelize in so many good things instead of wasting it rummaging through these futile updates.

People are so obsessed in trying to create a ‘virtual’ image of themselves that they are forgetting that what they portray on the internet is nothing but an ‘IMAGE’ of you. It’s a banner you carry with you, so you try to festoon it with all the gleam possible to make your public profile LOOK better.

This has occurred on such a traumatic level that people are becoming completely oblivious to themselves. They are forgetting to improve their own self on a human and spiritual level. As my friend Steve rightly said, “When I go to college, I want to have some years to myself,” and I thought it was very admirable of him to infer that thought (now don’t get too cocky Steve.) 😛

I’ll give you a list of things I achieved during the past ‘Non-Social Network’ 3 months.

1.) Started working as a Freelance Writer.

2.) Read a gazillion books.

3.) Wrote the first chapter to my book which is not very ‘edgy’ but it’s something.

4.) Decorated my bedroom wall with all sorts of posters and art and craft.

5.) Gave my exams peacefully.

6.) Noticed that when I left social networks my mind caught some brilliant thoughts and ideas to write about.

7.) I blogged more and wrote more.

8.) And lastly, and what I believe is the best, I became more thoughtful. More than I already was. I believe Insight and Wisdom are a gift and these two things can be improved by experience and listening. Talk less;Listen more.

What happens when you spend time with yourself?

You become more aware of the importance of your presence in this world. You realize your full potential and you understand that you deserve more and that you can achieve more by working hard. You come to know that everything on this Earth has a reason affixed to it. The great classics that have been written in the history have all been scripted by writers who spent time alone.

Seclusion, if harnessed the right way can open doors to a plethora of imagination, curiosity, insight and wisdom. It leads to long hours of reflecting over things and the environment around you.  J.K Rowling, Emma Watson, Bill Gates are just a few names in the long list of successful people who spent time with themselves. Because when you’re alone, you think, you ponder and you brood. It hones your mind and your brain. It shapes your thoughts prunes your imagination.

Read carefully,

You don’t have to bereft yourself from the happenings of the world, you just have to direct your time and attention to things more imperative in life. Things that matter more.

Soulmate

So I wrote this a couple of nights before in my diary, I don’t know how or why but the idea just came in my head and I quickly grabbed a pen and started writing.

Here it goes-

“In the inception of your bond, you show them that you’re their greatest weakness. That’s when it dawns upon them that they’ve found the one they love. You know why? Because they finally understand that you’re the one person they cannot live without. That’s what LOVE really is.

But, my dear, that is NOT what a marriage is. A marriage not just comprehends the secret whispers or stolen kisses of two newly infatuated lovers, marriage is a stark truth, a truth basing on the foundation of a promise. A promise of not leaving each other’s side no matter how hard life may try.

Initially, you make them realise that the core to their weakness resides in your fragile heart. You’re their kryptonite. They love you more than the stars love their silvery glow because they need you. But the truth is, You Need Each Other. 

Because then begin the times of struggles and in those times you’ve to prove them that you’re their strength as well. That you won’t leave them alone when the waters are a little rough but you’ll help them steer their boat to the shore and fight against the frantic winds.
You have to prove that you weren’t just there in their happy times when love was fluttering like butterflies and the air smelled of strawberries;but they’ll also have your shoulder when the nights are longer and the days are colder.

Those nights when they aren’t hungry and they see the entire world in front of them collapse into a huge pile of dirt.
You’ve to prove that you’re the whetstone  to their sword and they need you as much as they need their armor.

You see, you have to play both the roles.
You have to be their most dreaded strength
and their most cherished weakness.”

-Aakansha.

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10 Reasons Why Being a Girl is Hard

So yesterday I read an article on the internet called ’30 Annoying Things That Women do that Guys Hate’ (30-like really?). It was written by some guy who either had a century old grudge against the female gender OR had a recent heartbreak-who knows? But the amount of spite that his article presented, told me that he carried some real issues with women (prayers go out to his future girlfriend).

Anyway so I hadn’t really posted anything lately due to my arduous semester exams but now that they’re finally over, you all can endure read my stuff again. So whilst I read that article I thought I should play my part in the Female Army and maybe write an antithesis for it since this issue has been a major topic of discussion when it comes to the stereotypical chasms of wars between the two great genders of humanity; Male and Female respectively. Here it goes!

I went ahead and asked ALL the female friends I had in my contact list as to what according to them were some of the hardships you go through in the charming process of ‘being a girl’. The replies I got were hilarious. I summed them up in 10 brief points!

  • We have to be multitaskers; have to master cooking, a proper job AND to look presentable as well.
  • Do you know how hard it is to get one of those ‘Good Hair Days’ and then try to maintain them throughout the day?
  • We can’t come and conk off on a couch in a party;we have to master the ‘RIGHT POSTURE’  because apart from everything else-We ALSO have to be a lady!
  • Getting those stupid legs waxed and shiny?
  • Oh and yes-WE HAVE TO SMELL GOOD AS WELL.
  • I don’t think any other gender understands how hard it is to go through the 5 day pain every month AND act perfectly normal about it.
  • The wings of the left eye eyeliner are always ‘not-perfect’.
  • Curling and straightening rods scare the crap out of me. THEY REALLY DO.
  • It’s always hard and gawky for a girl to approach a guy. The drill says that the guy should ‘make the move’. So it attracts a lot of attention if a girl steps forward.

and lastly,

  • We cannot be reckless. As in carefree. It’s genetically imbibed in us;we cannot ‘not care’ about people or things no matter how much we try. We tend to ponder over every small thing. Although it’s an innate quality but sometimes it turns out to be extremely exhausting.

So this is it. There-I said it all. Sometimes we might exasperate you boys and make you all think of all the painless suicide options-but we aren’t THAT bad. You might think we’re annoying and whiny and sometimes fairly obnoxious.  (Psst ..not all of us are). But in honest defense, we go through the above things that are biologically programmed for US and so YOU, no matter how much you try, will not understand how tiresome it actually is (although we wish you did).

So after you’re done reading this, go and give your girlfriend/wife a bunch of flowers AND chocolates .. Oh and Gummy Bears too ..Oh Oh. .. and a box of Nutella maybe?

Okay-I’ll stop writing now.

If there’s anything you want me add, feel free to notify me in the comment box.

How do you escape the labyrinth?

A long time back I read a book by John Green called ‘Looking For Alaska.”

And I even wrote this blog post approximately a year back, but I somehow felt it should be posted again.

“He was shaken by the overwhelming revelation that the headlong race between his misfortunes and his dreams was at that moment reaching the finish line. The rest was darkness, ‘Damn it,’ he sighed. ‘How will I ever get out of this labyrinth!” 
― Gabriel Garcí­a MárquezThe General in His Labyrinth

This quote is presented by one of the protagonists in the book around whom the story revolves, Alaska Young. Throughout the book at various intervals, the absolutely admirable author, John Green has raised the above  question, but not answered it.

As if giving his readers plenty of chances to figure it out for themselves. But each time (as in my case) you’re averted in a more darker tunnel of intrigue and fascination. The more I tried to figure it out, the more confused I became. I happened to find myself diving into this ocean of reverie, from where I almost find it impossible to escape.

So what is the way out of this Labyrinth of Suffering?
How do we get out of this maze?

Death, my friend is certainly not the answer.

“The only way out of the labyrinth of suffering  is to forgive.”

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I’ve never believed in forgiveness. It might sound harsh and very stubborn of me but second chances are not my cup of tea. It’s rather unfortunate of me to think that people are never sorry for their actions, they’re usually sorry that they got caught.

But again, it’s completely up to your own sweet discretion whether or not you choose to forgive someone who you think deserves a second chance.

But more importantly, the quote also implies on learning to forgive yourself. Sometimes you get so caught up in this cobweb that you forget that you’re allowed to make mistakes too. And out of all the people in the world the one person whose forgiveness you need the most is yourself. You cannot afford to brood over and punish yourself for every mistake you made. Because if you don’t absolve yourself from any of your blunder, it’s going to slowly and slowly eat you up and somehow that guilt will always trouble you.

So forgive your soul and free yourself from the shackles. So that when you approach the epilogue of your life, you have one hell of a speech to make. Learn to love every flaw within you. We’re humans, we’re designed to make mistakes and then learn from them.

But the wisdom lies in forgiveness and moving on and sparing yourself the pain and self-loathing. Because it is only when you forgive, you open the doors to the escape from this maze.  This is what Mr. Green tried to infer.

“There are so many of us who will have to live with things done and things left undone. Things that did not go right, things that seemed okay at the time because we could not see the future. If only we could see the endless string of consequences that result from our smallest actions.”

-John Green.

PRIORITIES

I stared at my salary today. Yes, I stared at it for at least 10 minutes. And in those 10 minutes I drifted back to the year 2001 and found this little girl with a pony-tale, balancing on her toes; desperately trying to catch a glance of the succulent candies wrapped in shiny, comely packets.  She can see boxes, cylindrical boxes full of glimmering wrappers of chocolates and her eyes twinkle at the view. She looks at her mom pleadingly and her mom hands her as many candies as her little palms could hold.

She made her day.

That little girl was I.

Today I could buy as many boxes of candies as I can, but I don’t want to. When I was a little girl, I promised myself that when I grow up and have my own money I’m going to buy all these friggin chocolates and candies.

This thought struck me as lightening. It’s amazing isn’t it? How priorities change over time. How 10 years back a little square of chocolate could have made my day, and a new set of crayons made me gleam with pride, but today I have so many things I wish for and even though I can go and purchase everything I ever wanted when I was a little girl- I WON’T.

I’m still staring at those bills.

It’s a little hard to register how we no longer whine for an ice-cream every time we pass by an ice-cream truck or pass by a balloon man and yearn for one. We no more get delighted when our paper plane makes it successfully across the room .. hell we don’t even make a paper plane now. We no more get giddy when we graciously receive the return gift in a birthday party- or wait, when was the last time we had a birthday that was not celebrated in a restaurant or a club?

PRIORITIES are crazy. How everything changed from toy-phones to I-Phones and from bicycles to bikes- I’ll never understand. How now when we say APPLE we think of the brand rather than the fruit and how that little apple with a bite scrunched away has become a symbol for status in society.

A thought:

Why is it that when I was 4 years old, everything I ever wanted was candies and Santa and stickers and every single rupee I ever got was spent in requesting my mom to buy me the aforementioned delights. And when I had those, I never wanted anything more. But today, my desire for things is endless.

When earlier I used to jump with joy over a 1 rupee coin I accidentally found rummaging through my backpack; I no longer get joyous when I receive an income or pocket-money. Somehow it isn’t enough.

Why don’t I desire for candies now when I can buy as many as I want? Why the idea of what more can be bought appeals to me more? MORE- Why do I want more?

I wonder that in the coming years when I’m all grown up with a proper job and a considerable income, would I ever look back to this day when I was staring at my bills wondering why I don’t desire for candies any more?

Would my so called income seem very meager at that point? Would I have fulfilled everything I ever wanted when I was 18? Or did mankind create more ‘desires’ and gadgets and standards to adhere to?

The more we have; the more we want.

To all those who’re stable, are earning, and happy with their lives,

DO YOU STILL DESIRE FOR CANDIES?

Would You Press ‘DELETE?’

I’m just going to let you all know some of my personal fantasies or rather daydreams. But I’d like to warn you that I think about the weirdest things you could possibly imagine. Though I’m still pretty certain you all will be forced to relate to it.

Each one of us has gone through troubled times, the kind of times when you’re standing on the edge of a cliff and summoning the courage to jump or sometimes when you’ve felt an intense angst of pain or betrayal or worse, hopelessness. Times when you lost someone you loved to death or maybe that someone left you all alone. Prolonged days when you’ve felt cast out, swaying wildly in the thunderous gushing, freezing ocean waters. If you’re one of us, then you have all my love and empathy and I promise you things will get better.

I was really sad a couple of days before, so after I completed my cycle of crying and lying down quietly, a thought occurred to me. What if I was given a machine that deleted memory? Not a big, gigantic pomp but just a small one- like the one from Men In Black. But the only difference would be that you could delete parts of the memories that you’d like to be gone. All the painful occurrences that you wished had never happened.

I thought about it for a while and it seemed tempting. Something troubling you? *Presses Delete Button* -GONE! You can continue your life like it never happened. A smile crept my face when I wondered of all the memories I could erase, all the sadness I could be spared from.

But it vanished just as easily. This another thought occurred to me. Although, I wondered, the idea of clearing away your pain might feel very delightful at the moment, but I believe memories, both sad and good, are essential for life. They are just as important as your limbs and senses.

Without bad memories you won’t ever learn a lesson. You’ll be devoid of experience. So you need both good and bad to balance the equation of life. You wouldn’t ever know what love is until you’ve been betrayed by someone. You won’t know who a great friend is until you’ve met the wrong ones. So basically you don’t know what a ripe peach tastes like until you’ve tried a few bad ones.

It’s completely natural to say, ‘I want to forget this person/memory/thing.’ You want to run away from it, you want to hide, you want it to stop haunting you, but what I say is, derive a lesson from it and move on. Let every bad memory be a reason to have good ones.

So as I crawled up from the pit of gloom I taught myself that every memory is important. It doesn’t matter if it’s happy or sad. If you remove the sad and dark parts from a movie, you’ll end up with a distorted, confusing and a spoiled film devoid of a real story. Keep every scene intact and sooner or later you’ll realize why every bit of it was required.

So sit back, have a cup of coffee, read a good book and watch your life play before your eyes. Embrace it, learn from the bad things, appreciate the good things and most important of all- keep going!

To all my American followers,
Happy Thanksgiving! 🙂

Oh and yes- Here’s a shout-out to the sweetest and currently a very good friend of mine Stephen, check out his blog, he’s got everything covered under one roof! 🙂
P.s- He’s a mutant, so be a little careful. XD

My Love for Army Men but why I’d never Marry one.

-The 14 year old me stands beside an ice-cream truck, relishing each and every stroke of the smooth tantalizing chocolate fudge; giving me a temporary relief from the heat. I’m discussing about the upcoming Biology exam when a large convoy of huge trucks pass us by. I get distracted by the sound and see them heading towards the highway. I stare at them until they vanish in the bent.

I forget about it- I’m 14, seriously what did you expect?

-I’m 15 and I stand next to my mother in the parent-teacher meet. I’m focusing on the critical mistakes in my term paper when a majestic man, wearing his army uniform in full glory, all festooned with various shining medals and badges enters my class, followed by my classmate. I mentally give him a standing ovation.

-I’m 16 and I’m sitting in a cafe and I hear giggles somewhere afar. I glance up and see these two little adorable girls being led by their father who was wearing his army uniform, the two girls fight over who’s gonna order and who’s going to ‘spoon-feed’ their daddy ice-cream as I sit and watch that beautiful family.

Lastly,

-The 18 year old me drives to college and gives pass to an Army truck; laden with handsome army men, their gaze eerily affixed on the road, all mature and dark.

Somewhere inside my heart aches for their families and I take a mental note I’d never marry an Army man. I confess that this decision is for myself. I get crippled in fear thinking that while I’m here ranting on WordPress there is a man on the border putting his life at stake.

I admit, I’m a coward. I’m timid, selfish and hate myself for running away from the pain. I’d rather stay away from an army man than enjoy his company because I’m incapable of surviving the lack of surety for their survival.

Plainly stating, why I’d never marry or get extremely close to a military man is that even though there are thousands of females who are bravely living with the fear of losing their loved ones, I’m not one of them, I won’t be able to bear the distance, the feel that we’re miles apart.

Having long distance is and having long distance with the life of the other partner at stake is a completely different scenario. I don’t know how other women handle it, the constant fear that their partner might not return someday. I shiver at the thought. I’ve always admired these men in shining armor and their reunions with their families fills my heart with so much pain and love.

I could never do that. I don’t have that strength. If in any case I happen to get acquainted with a military man I’d either join the army myself and accompany him to the border or make him quit his job, as simple as that-again I admit, that’s downright selfish. And so I pray I never fall in love or get emotionally close to any military man because they’re the purest form of selflessness and love and again I say, I’m a chicken, I have a weakness for love and I cannot do anything about it other than running away and hoping not to ever face it in my life.

So this for all those brave men out there, armies of every country, soldiers of any race, the very form of courage, valor and humanity, those who’re standing tall and serving without expectations, the very portrait of sheer patriotism- we respect and love you equally.

A wholehearted Thank You to you glorified beings for existing and taking the vow to protect us and your motherland.

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