Self-Warranted Rant

Do you know that feeling when you really want to rant about something, but don’t want to come off as a brat who doesn’t know how to compromise, adjust and tune into her circumstances?

Say, you really wanted to gorge on your favourite pack of chips whilst binge watching the TV show you obsessively fangirl about. But somebody accidentally bought chips of some other new brand, totally different from your usual, which you had never even asked for. But you go with it, because your initial goal was to stuff your mouth with something. Now, this begrudging packet of potentially yummy goodness refuses to open even with all your mighty effort and any of the industrial equipment you could find in your supply closet, which very unfavourable for your case, happens to fall in the not-my-forte-radius.

Or otherwise, in the fortunate scenario of yourself being a highly healthy human being, who looks down upon packets filled with big fat calories and big fat pricetages attached to it, let me paint a different picture. So you sat down with an age old puzzle that you love to solve in your pass time. You’re great at the puzzle and have no chances of getting frustrated and giving up because you know just how to put the beautiful thing together with beaming pride. But somewhere between cleaning all of the mess that your room came together to be identitied as, by hastily pushing all of it into your wardrobe, you inadvertently mixed the puzzle pieces together with another very similar looking set a few days ago.

In either scenario, you don’t want to complain about this to the entire world because they may obviously think that it’s really trivial. Nobody cares about your packet of chips or disastrous mixed up puzzle. They’re too busy taking care of their own problems, which might just be even more trivial than yours. The fact that nobody will care enough to give you an explanation as to why what’s happening is happening to you makes you want to think twice about letting the world know of your circumstances. Because I literally resisted myself from writing this post since the start of my current academic year.

Yes, this is an issue from school. And it’s not even a high school drama story. It’s an ‘I have a problem with my grades’ episode. I know, I know. You may now gracefully roll your eyes at the stupidity that’s unraveling here. And if you haven’t already walked away to an internet space that isn’t so mundanely face-palm-inducing, let me break this situation down into small little points rather than mile long narratives in excruciating detail.

  • I used to be pretty great at studies.
  • Phenomenally great, sometimes.
  • Okay, I was one of the school toppers in a super important exam in 10th grade.
  • Then I came to 11th grade.
  • There was a shift in the curriculum pattern.
  • Some dude apparently had had a brainwave about 6 years ago.
  • He thought it would be nice to make things easier for kids.
  • So our pattern turned into something of a sunshine and butterflies set-up since 5th grade or so.
  • Everything was pretty achievable, if not easy.
  • But, the dude thought that 11th and 12th grade are the years before we face the real world and all that jazz.
  • So he decided to stop with butterfly land at the 10th grade mark.
  • But get this, the dude never warned us that beyond butterfly land lies a place where the Godzilla of textbooks arise to power.
  • I lost the battle against Godzilla.
  • I think it ate me alive along some time this year.

End of story.


Also, I’m forever swamped in all the things I have yet to get done with. Literally, most times.

I hate to drag this, but the point is that my grades aren’t the best. They’re definitely not something I’m proud of. And do you know that horrible feeling when you’re a believer and think of positive outcomes in the future, but reality just cruelly defies all that your efforts bravely stood for?

I felt that way throughout the year about how it wasn’t working out. Everything taught at school was so incomprehensible. Most times, my syllabus was so overwhelming I would give up mentally and not take in anything even if I was actually going through all those countless pages (we’ve got 2 part-textbooks in most of our subjects. So that’s an entire series of tomes to finish accompanied by tears and failed attempts.) with my eyes open. The keeping eyes open part also becoming really hard because how is a kid supposed to get some shut-eye if she has exams/results in perpetuity?

Coincidentally, I was just crying over the unfathomable fatness of my chemistry textbook when I noticed a little eyelash that had come off my eyelash line. (If that’s what it’s called.) So, I wished upon it that someone quickly vests in me the power to not breakdown and study as much as I can and as well as I can. Yes, I have a silly tradition to blow my eyelash out the window and wish over it like it’s a little carrier pigeon which will tell the forces what I want.

In conclusion, I’d like to say that even though nobody cares, I’d like to put this problem out there just so that the world knows that I’m all in for standing up to it. It cannot and shall not bully me into incompetence. I’m incredibly sorry for this painfully long post and so will end it on the beautiful and fabulous Kelly Clarkson’s words, because that’s exactly what I’m going to do to free myself from the clutches of my whatever the heck was causing my not so decent grades.


Other updates include:
I won the school elections and am now officially the school pupil leader =D the support I received was amazing and it truly feels surreal.
My finals start next week. So I might be low on posting for a while. I will be a little busy conquering the climb. Although, I will post some pieces that I wrote in a recent writer’s workshop whenever I find time.

Hope you’re doing well. xx

Dear Cursor

Ah, there you are, you little blinking thing.

You see, the way you create this fluent flow using my incidentally intermittent thoughts, you’re helping me produce something that fascinates my own self. Wait, for I shall explain what I mean. Don’t blink away furiously; it’s your presence that keeps me sane. You bring to life the start of my dreams and provide a full stop to my strayers. Your presence here is an encouraging persistence, if seen in the right perspective, and layers.

But on some contrary beliefs of mine, you also manage to mock me as you wait. You wait, and never leave when all of the inspiration in the world has seemed to have deserted me. And as they leave, they leave me clueless, and leave my mind completely desolate.

I understand that you’re still waiting as you always have. Waiting in anticipation for when I will write what exactly is in my heart. Here it is, my dear cursor. You help me blow astounding bubbles of words. Much like the wind courses through a bubble wand to produce beautiful blobs of bubbles that people often chase to catch hold of, you do something wondrous too. You make my words course effortlessly through your tall, proud, blinking self. Producing magnificent blurbs of text that I duly hope people would behold just as they would fascinately look at a bouncy, mystical, enticing bubble.



Gah. Thanks, cursor :’D


                                                                              Image credits: Tumblr

I’m Running for President

Guys, I’m running for president of the world and I’m counting on you to vote me in for more bouncy castles, more fries per order, and more happiness in the daily weather forecast. Just kidding. Although I wish I were not. We recently had our school pupil leader elections for which I stood. With an extremely wobbly and nervous pair of legs, a heart beating wild, and a bunch of friends who had all the faith in this world in me, I managed to deliver my campaign speech without running off the stage mid way. Thought you’d like to give it a hear in my very ‘I am going to rule this world’ mind voice which at the same time constantly worries about tripping on air and falling.
But seriously, I cannot be more grateful to all my teachers and friends without whom’s support I would not have been even close to the strong and tall (not literally) young woman that I am today. I thank you guys infinitely. Also, thanks to my smart ass BFF who came up with that intro, filled with pop culture references to get everyone’s attention haha.

Hello, it’s me, Archana.
Hello, from the other side.
Okay, is it too late now to say sorry?
Because I know you must be thinking what do you mean?
Maybe I’m thinking that you should go love yourself. And, you know, me. Why you ask? Here’s why.

As the school pupil leader, I guarantee to you that I will always stand here as an encouragement for you to overcome every fit of stage fear, exam anxiety, or stressed out last minute homework completion session. Because funnily, I have been a victim of all of those and more, and yet somehow, very miraculously, I am standing here before you on this glorious stage.

As SPL, I will work with my fellow coucil body members to better the best of everything that our school provides us with.

More opportunities, higher recognition, fresh exposure, unforgettable experiences, tastier gobi manchurian*, and better days will all be in our near future.

You may positively look forward to development in the school’s co-ordination in cultural, academic, and sports events.

Ask me a thousand questions and I will strive to answer your curious minds.

Tell me a suggestion of a change that you’d like to see in our school and we will work together to make it happen. Unless you know, it’s something like wanting to bring your electronic gadgets to school. Don’t get me wrong. I’m as obsessed with my phone as each on of you are, but in the case of this incredible space we call our school, we have as much entertainment and fun as YouTube has, our library could potentially be the biggest fandom base of the fictional world in real life, our football ground is Star Sports, and you are the stars.

As long as I’m on this technology metaphor, let me tell you that I believe that our school needs to be like an amazing 3D movie, projecting the capabilities of every single student, that will be worth a million audience in number. So let me be your 3D glasses and let me showcase in all dimensions the insanely talented icons that lie beneath your humble identities.

I strongly believe in the notion that a leader is someone who does not only work with others, but pushes them to the best of their abilities to achieve things they’d only dreamed of. And that, is exactly why you should elect me as the SPL. I take this opportuntiy to thank all the teachers who’ve guided me and supported me throughout my growing years and all of you who have patiently listened to me go on about it. I also wish all my fellow candidates standing for the position of SPL and ASPL a very good luck.
May the force be with you.

*Gobi Manchurian is the most popular dish from our school canteen. Regardless of how cardboard-like it tastes, people still gorge on plates and plates of it.

I Am a Socially Awkward Blob


Hey, hi, hello there!

I know you truly don’t care
‘Bout the stuff that goes
On in my mental lobes.

But listen to me for a little while
You needn’t giggle or even smile
Just hold on till the next few lines
Till this team of poetic pixels brightly shines

To be very honest, socialising is an awkward twirl
It somehow turns me into a stereotypical white girl
Because I suddenly just ‘can’t even’
Without a clue of how, where or when
And kaboom, I then forget how to speak
And the grammar nazi troop in me grows weak

All I remember is how to uneasily grin
As every word I utter sounds like a social sin
Defying the normal rules of making sense
Off go the words into a frantic tense
Of being judged or for dignity’s sake, they stall
My brain tells me to run, with an excuse of my mom’s call

No, I’m not reciting fiction here
To follow this rhyme scheme, to strictly adhere

The struggle is seriously real
What you might think to be slightly trivial

I stutter, fall, rise and tumble back down
This is the story of every socially awkward clown
But behind every fumbled word, there’s a legendary story
Behind every forgotten bit, there’s a personality like that of Dory
Behind every silence, there’s an enormous echo of expression
Behind every “Um okay bye”, there’s a tiny, yet powerful shred of hesitation

I say less
I think more
I don’t confess
Anxious to the core
My buttons, don’t you press
For simply a casual revelation score
Because I’ve hidden thoughts in my mind’s crevices
For if you think you know me, oh darling, there’s SO much more


*drumroll* Image credits: