Read My Mind Soar- Also, this is for You.

Writing 101- Don’t Stop the Rockin’

So, 19 days down and 1 to go, we come right back to free writing. Quite frankly I don’t do a lot of writing pieces where I let my mind soar and write whatever comes to me. I usually give it a thought, frame in my head how I’d like to see it appear on paper, and then give it a go. But let’s be real here, what I imagine in my head and what I see written in my squiggly, rushed imperfect handwriting don’t really match and the latter doesn’t usually come that up to the mark. Yet, here I am going for it. For sure this time. I am not thinking about where or to what point I’m heading, yet my fingers are moving in a randomised series of movements trying to make sense, and for sure making countless typos along the way which I’ll have to sit, backspace and type out again for you to comprehend. Ah, coming to you. If you can’t see me right now, oh wait of course you can’t see me because you’re probably 2 continents and 3 oceans away.. but coming back to what I was saying, I’d like you to imagine a person’s emotions and facial expression of that when he/she (i’m all for feminism, don’t want to mess with something that controversial) is handed an ice cream. The ice cream comes with every last one his/her favourite toppings, syrups, fruits- you name it. After finishing slurping down on the last bits of the creamy, milky filled goodness, he/she’s told that that treat has been declared to be free of cost. The amount of contentment after having a stomach full of yummy goodness, being instantly doubled after having being told that it costed zero money out of his/her pocket in this corporate plauged world, is exactly the amount of satisfaction and happiness that I get when I blog. Quite similar to splashing paint on to a wall, I splatter all my heart and crazy mindless thoughts on to the screen, which becomes my ice cream treat. Having it published on to my very own page and for so many amazing people like you to read it and appreciate whatever I’ve poured out of my head is astonishing. Just like being handed an ice cream cone, free of cost. By now, you probably also know that my brain has tendencies to reach the extremities of metaphorical comparisons. And yet, you’re still here. So, for that I’d like to thank you. You’re awesome. Alright? Almost nothing compares or beats being awesome in this world. That’s what I think. Well, that’s how I think it should work! This motto comes from my optimistic, cheerful, exuberant mind, as well as from the words of my favourite, Barney Stinson, the NPH. tumblr_l2mr4wv0Xf1qzg6mgo1_500 So, I think that’s it for now. I guess this must have been around 400 words by the estimation made by my slightly mathematically dysfunctional brain which at times forget what 7 times 6 are. Ohh and don’t forget, you’re awesome.

Writing 101, Day 19


Help Mrs. Pauley Asap

Writing 101- Hone a Point of View

“That’s one less trouble, mister! Let’s see that list now, shall we? 

“I never thought these troubles could be tackled and striked out so easily, Mrs. Pauley. Thanks for helping me!”
“Tackled indeed, Jimmmy. But do remember that these are just the baby steps that you are capable of taking right now. The big picture needs even more support. Keep working towards completely doing away with all of ’em as you become a smart grown up man, will ya?”
“I sure will.”

I remember the grin on my face that I’d had every time Mrs. Pauley would be so supportive of the things I told her about. My mind recollected those times spent with her as I sat across the street facing her humongous house with the quaint, slopey roof. Apparently, she is being evicted from the house she’s been living in since forever. I asked mom about what could sweet Mrs. Pauley possibly have done, that there were cops at her place evicting her?! Evicting. Even the sound of it seems like an incredibly evil thing.

Imagining her gone is very saddening to me. So what if she couldn’t pay some bills on time? Well actually, money isn’t always your bestfriend. That was one among the hundreds of wise things Mrs. Pauley had told me over the years. When I was 6, I used to think that she was born this way. Old, wise, with a giving heart. It took me time to believe it then, but now I know, that she was just like me someday. To having grown up to become as smart as her, she doesn’t deserve to be deprived of her house at all!

I long being able to do something for her, owing to the numerous things she’s helped me with.

Help homeless man
Save the strawberry bush from dying
Fix global warming

I found the list from two years ago when I was over at her place fixing the problems I had thought were in dire need of being solved. Her youngest son had been in town who worked for Greenpeace. He told me about all that he did in his job to save the earth. That was when I striked out the last trouble off the list.

The cops seem to be coming out now. They’re leaving! This looks like everything went well. So, I rose up and headed towards Mrs. Pauley.

“Mrs. Pauley! They left! Isn’t that amazing?”

She didn’t say anything, but gave a weak smile.

“Why are you so glum?”

“They’ve given me a week’s notice. That means 7 days until I can digest the fact that I’m being kicked out of my house, Jim. We’re going to make the best out of these 7 days, a’right?”

“We sure are.”

Saying that, I left for home. I didn’t protest, whine or question about anything that was happening. For all I know, Mrs. Pauley was putting up a fight. With all the odds set against her, life hadn’t being the nicest to her lately. All her sons had settled abroad, leaving her with what mom calls ‘Empty Nest Syndrome’. I realised it’s just a fancy name for missing your sons to death. So there was that, Mr. Pauley’s gravely unfortunate death just months ago, and now the eviction? It had clearly been too long since she’d said her famous words, “That’s one less trouble.” I thought it best for me to not bring all those evils into the clear for now.

I got home and I turned over the list of troubles to make another one. It had indeed been quite a time since I was concerned about the better of the world, and now was definitely a good time. I wrote, ‘Help Mrs. Pauley asap’.

My vision strayed and I noticed something below on the paper. It was Mrs. Pauley’s sons number which he’d given to me so that I could call him if I wanted to know how ‘fixing global warming’ was going.

Mrs. Pauley had been so down that she thought herself to be of too less importance for her to call her sons who were busy in far away lands living their own lives.
That’s when I knew exactly what to do.

Soon enough, the plan worked and a parcel came to Mrs. Pauley’s doorstep. I went over quickly enough and stuck a note on the rent money that I’d asked her son to send in. I grinned satisfactorily at what the note said. That’s one less trouble, Mrs. Pauley!

Writing 101, Day 18

Rising Above

Writing 101- Your Personality on the Page

Waiting in anticipation, with a meagre amount of patience and quite evidently teeming; is the audience. The spectators, just as much human as I, sit facing me. To this day I haven’t been able to figure out if it’s the elevated platform that I’m placed on, contrary to the audience sitting and watching me from down below, or if the masses watching me themselves ignite this anxiety within.

Stage fright is a word, two words to be accurate, that I’m very familiar with. How we came to be acquaintances? I quite frankly don’t know. How it refuses to go away for good? I’m still wondering.

There’s no part in me that wants to be scared of speaking in front of a hundred, or even a thousand people. Yet somehow, even after training my mind to climb a zone wherein I’m not afraid at all to face a crowd, my hands holding the mike fail to cooperate. They shudder, reminding me of the anxiety and my worst fears of messing up or not performing up to the mark.

Admittedly, it took time, but I realised if there was anyone that was making a bid deal out of my insecurities, it was myself. Even the littlest parts of me that wandered to think that I wasn’t good enough or that I would make a horrible mistake was coming from myself.

I had to put up a fight to rise above to the stage, and more importantly to rise above the fear that the stage held personally for me.

I never pass on a chance to speak. I fumble, stutter, but get past it to eventually, elegantly (not always, but I try!) express what I want to.

My heart beats fast before I climb up there, but not fast enough to engulf me in nervousness and muteness. Not any more.

I keep at it.

I learnt from experience that there’s nothing I would gain by turning down even the slightest opportunity to go on stage, more aptly put, to face my fear. I also know for the best that I’ve got nothing to lose to keep doing so.

Enough with the cowering down, because you know what? I can almost see myself having a ‘come at me, bro’ attitude towards this fear that resides in me. And I can see it leaving forever, very soon!

Lost & Found

Writing 101- Third Time’s the Charm

When you’re in a look,
For nothing in particular,
You see a lot.

You find more,
Than you ever did,
Or you possibly ever will.

Finding your book,
In the mess your room is,
Only to realise,
It was on your bookshelf,
Holds a parallel to losing,
Yourself amidst confusion,
Chaos and a crippling cry.

All you need is the time,
To realise that you never lost,
Yourself or your will power.

Just listen to your voice,
Your heart beat.

To find your way back,
To yourself, to home,
It takes a sane mind,
And quite a little time.

I learnt in time,
That you find what you need,
And also what you might not,
But you have the ability,
To lose what pulls you down,
Make it gone with time;
You’ll find a new outlook,
On losing things.

Let it go.
You might find,
Something fine or so.

How I learnt this,
You ask?
It’s was a peculiar,
Yet a great finding,
That I did on my job,
Of cleaning the flow,
The rushing, blue river.

A quarter, a glass jar,
And some wrappers,
Did I find,
All washed out,
Save for the jar-
Empty and astray.

Free and hollow it was,
With nothing contained within.

What’s great about it,
You ask?
The jar was labelled in red,
With a marker,
‘My Troubles’, it read.

Empty it was,
And definitely lost,
The man was free,
Of his last trouble.

He’d lost them since a long time,
& found infinite contentment in the air,
The minute that jar went empty,
Happiness was his to spare.

Writing 101, Day 16

Memories You Can Reflect Upon

Writing 101- Serially Found

The glossy sheet of paper that stared back at me said a lot of things at once. It screamed out that the Taj Mahal is an extremely crowded place at any given time or day. It shone through without a doubt that the sun was scorching hot. It also came with a little bubble of thought that amidst a busy day in front of Shah Jahan’s token of love for his wife, if you’re in your mother’s arms, along with your little family & having a good time, any picture that’s taken becomes picture-postcard-perfect.

Another one was a reminder of a rather not-so-joyous day. The occasion was a festive one, with a fancy dress competition ready to start. Enter, I. Draped in a silky white gown with a star wand held in my hand, 4 years old, crying my eyes out. The picture said nothing about the amount of enthusiasm and rehearsal I’d put behind my appearance on stage and instead showed the terror on the fairy’s face upon facing the exorbitant number of people looking at her. Either way, it became a thing to look at, to relish, and to laugh away.

Set in a dimly lit restaurant, at the table we’d dined was another one. It didn’t speak a lot, but what it did, it did pretty boldly. We were in Andaman, having our last meal on its fresh coastal ground before our flight back home the next day. A quick phone enquiry came with the news that the plane is overbooked for the entire week and there’s no other feasible means of transport from an island floating on water. Everyone’s face is grim with worry if we would somehow get the last few tickets, while someone in the scene is carefree, going in for another bite from the tasty plate of food in front of her.

Then there was one with a lot of familiar faces. All together, smiling and rejoicing being together. The friendship and frivolity that had closely knit this group of friends blared through evidently. There was also a great, happy, reminiscing smile seen off the reflection on the sheet of the glistening paper.


Finding photos that I thought I’d lost forever is quite amazing. The joy that comes to me thinking ‘Oh remember this day when we thought we were the happiest we could ever be?’, somehow seems overwhelming owing to the happiness greater than anything else when I gaze at the sheets of photographic memory which has found its way back to me.

Photographs are indeed time capsules. They are embodiments of the times that you’ll always long to revisit; that you sit idle and run wild through the roaring flood of memories in your head. Trying to hold on to every last one of them through the years rushing by!

‘Photo’ Credits:

Writing 101, Day 13

The Net

Writing 101- Your Voice Will Find You

Being born in the ultimate year of the 90s comes off as quite a privilege. I believe in this especially because if you’re anything like me, you can call yourself a 90s kid, fortunately by a narrow margin, associating yourself with all that belonged to it, and you can make the nineties your niche.

To not sound like a whining wannabe, I just want to make it clear that it was just nice to be born in the nineties. It IS also known that the nineties went on pretty strong until the early 2000s. So, there’s also that.

Okay, this is going to be a breather, because I’ll now take the initiative to stop my rambling on the 90s and cut to the chase.
The Internet was born just around the time I was. It came into a more prevalent existence just like I did; correlating it to coming out of the invention womb. Like any other toddler, it took it’s time to grow up, to have better functions, and to not fall asleep right in the middle of broad daylight, assuming that to be the human version of a computer crashing right when you need it.

I witnessed every step of the recent internet revolution, and hence have quite the number of memories attached to it. I was 8 when I made my first email ID, and  still use the very same inspite of the slightly childish element it carries. I was introduced to playing games on ‘the net’, which came off as such a surprise; to stumble upon the uncountable games and gaming platforms that the internet held in it’s arms. I have vague memories of being part of online simulation games where you interact with the world in the shoes of your little avatar moving along the presses of the arrow keys on your keyboard. I was the most astonished when I found out websites where you could choose what song you’d like to listen to, owing to the time when music was restricted to the limited TV channels and radio stations playing what they wanted to broadcast. Social networking sites were a red area, which we were forbidden to even ask if we could join since ‘it isn’t safe’, to quote the multitudinous times my parents have told me that.

Soon enough, I had an account on a lot of these teeming websites and was simply fascinated by the way video chats worked. To this day websites like YouTube, Quora, WordPress take me by surprise due to the mountain of information, entertainment and knowledge they offer which can be shared so easily. Blogging, particularly being new to me, has amazed me with the overwhelming response and the co-dependent and harmonious community it comes along with.

For all of this being taken away from me, just because some people in suits want to earn a bit more green paper everyday to eventually take over the world, is utterly implausible.
To not be able to ‘google it’ or share my views in return of several thousand other opinions to influence my viewpoint of the world is something I can’t imagine. The internet is here for a reason, and is here to stay.

I would also like to mention the ongoing fight for net neutrality in India wherein corporate forces like telecom companies and others have plans to segregate web services into categories and set up charges for each of them. Accessibility of websites and their content will also be compromised on if doing away with net neutrality wins.

I believe that we’ve already had a fair share of ‘divide and rule’ experiences and have learned the disastrous consequences of it. If you’re an Indian, and don’t want the internet to become a puppet show, with us not being the ones controlling the stings, then take a step towards establishing net neutrality right away!

Support #NetNeutrality here:

Writing 101, Day 15

‘An Extrovert’

Writing 101- To Whom it May Concern

Flipped to page 29 of the nearest book I could find. What I found at first glance, ‘An extrovert’. Also, I revamped the idea of writing a letter to writing an email. Because, hello? Technology!
Here we go.

From: Myself
To: The Extrovert in Me
Subject: Hey, you!

How’s it going? I’m guessing the party in my head is still going pretty strong. Why you ask? I have been feeling content and happy since quite a long streak! You’re doing an unbelievably great job.
The party yesterday was a blast, wasn’t it? We have got to do more of that. Well, I think I never told you this, but thanks for being there back when I was almost going to back off from my current project due to some insecurity thingamajig, because guess what? The entire team got a huge raise besides winning Most Well Done Project in the annual company party! I knew I could always count on you for being there to give me that extra push.
Also, you do check on your not-so-counterpart antonym, don’t you? If the latter’s true, then you really should. If The Intovert in Me ever gets out, it’s almost like outrunning a cheetah to get her back in. All the constant worrying, self doubt, and gosh, the case of not wanting to talk to anyone in a groovy social environment and later craving for some company when alone is the worst! Tell her to save it for some time else, sometime around never.

In all good causes, keep YOLOing and make it big. Stay the same and yeah, also, stay.

In the process of keeping things lively, don’t get forgetful. We’ve got to plan something big for the upcoming birthday of the amazing best friend of ours.

Catch you later. Oh what am I talking about? You are a part of me.
Silly me. No, silly you? You know what I mean.

Writing 101, Day 14