When I give up english, I'm shaky rather than secure. I'm weak. Before I became a writer, I lacked a clear, precise identity. It was through writing that I was able to feel fulfilled. What does it mean, for a writer, to write without her own authority? Can I call myself an author if I don't feel authoritative? How is it possible, that when I write I feel both freed and confined, constricted. Why does the imperfect, spare new voice attract me? Why does poverty satisfy me? What does it meant to give up a palace to live practically on the streets, a shelter, so fragile. Maybe because from the creativity point of view there is nothing so dangerous as security. I wonder what the relationship is between freedom and limits. I wonder how a prison can resemble a paradise. I wish for something else, something I probably shouldn't wish for. But I think that the need to write always comes from desperation, along with hope. I know that one should have a thorough knowledge of the language one writes in. I know that I lack true mastery. I know that my writing is something premature, reckless, always approximate. I'd like to apologize. I'd like to explain the source of this impulse of mine. Why do I write? To investigate the mystery of existence. To tolerate myself. To get closure to everything that is outside of me. If I want to understand what moves me, what confuses me, what pains me - everything that makes me react, in short - I have to put it into wards. Writing is my only way of absorbing and organizing life. Otherwise it would terrify me, it would upset me too much. What passes without being put into words, without being transformed and, in a certain sense, purified by the crucible of writing, has no meaning to me. Only words that endure seem real. They have a power, a value superior to us Given that I try to decipher everything through writing, may be writing in english is simply my way of learning the language in a more profound, more stimulating way. If I didn't write, if I didn't work with words, I wouldn't feel that I'm present on the earth. What does a word mean? And a life? In the end, it seems to me, the same thing. Just as a word can have many dimensions, many nuances, great complexity, so, too, can a person, a life. Language is the mirror, the principal metaphor. Because ultimately the meaning of a word, like that of a person, is boundless, ineffable. Thank you from the pith of my heart, Jhumpa Lahiri.
New people, yet again. Cold and humble inside. Determined to face it all, with a smile, and wash away the blues. A week passed, Everything has changed. Yet really, nothing has. Puzzling, yet it is the truth, Give it a break. 'Life's good.' With time, nothing ever ever really not changes, (It all does.) It's all about perception, 'Just smile.' A month passed, Everything on the right track, yet really, Nothing is. (It's all fine.) Really, just smile. Bye.
Her voice went numb, She feared to swallow, Though, she knew, it was dumb, She couldn't help, it felt hollow. She feared to look, at her own skin, maybe, that really was the hook, -- To fear her own self. 'I fear nothing I yet know.' She often said; being brave. 'Maybe illness ain't that bad, after all.' She wondered, silently. After all it seemed like a good getaway From the pseudo-hectic, pathetic, wrong-lived stressed-out lives. Of all.
Heyy guys. I know it’s been like forever since I last blogged. That’s is because I moved to a grade which is called T-W-E-L-V-E. It is the final year of my schooling. I’m not complaining, but really, let’s just get a few things straightened out like a pasta sheet, so as to have an sublime life ahead.. xD
Firstly, I’m not even 16 yet, and I’m leaving my schooling life in less than 8 months! Whaaatt! I initially sorta didn’t get what it is all about. And then suddenly it hit me like an alarm noise. Woosh. Like tidal waves.. which were supposed to hit your feet, and soften the sand, and your feets get buried deeper and deeper into the wetness. Only it doesn’t. Rather it just comes in the form of a hurricane. And you are stuck.
So, when realization hit me, things started to turn around, for life made more sense. I started to develop, what you call, the intra-personal intelligence, better, day by day. Next stage was to stop taking what I lived for the last 15 years, for granted. And nostalgia. Not the “I grew up too soon” sort, but,.. Ugh. “I’ll actually miss this” sort.
I’m really happy that my life is going just great. Sanguine vibes all around. Pinch of fights and misunderstands. A good stir of feelings and emotions. All wandering around the two main ingredients. Future. And. Studies.
It’s all awesome, though not perfect. ‘Cause perfection in not my thing. Also I’m jumping inside, for I’m turning 16 finalllly. (I know you will think, what’s the big deal.. So does my homies.) SIX days. Yaayy.
Life is good. I’m high on it. At this rate of its dose, I’ll probably capture it all, in no less time. Time. Yea. I’m running out of that, as my schedules for the day is packed. And, it’s good that way, anyway. For I’m not a person who can stay ideal for long.
Anyways. Time for lunch. Saluté.
They call it teen crush, some call it a waste of time, oldies -puppies love, i call it infatuation. Every teen has at least once in their entire life, yet, faced that moment of excitement, anger, tension, breakdown, ‘butterflies in the gut’; moment when your person of your dreams stands in front of you.
Maybe you haven’t realised it, until now, at one point, in your childhood, you have crushes too, but they are genderless, unbiased, just the exact definition fulfilment of Love rush. Unconditional love and caring attitude, for a short duration, not necessarily meaning to end in a relationship. Take these encounters for instance-
- She was just 11, her class teacher, whom they had never seen before, was yet to arrive. The racket around the class was most common.She sat at the second seat, middle row, short hair and 2 ponytails on either side, forever a smile plastered and often wondering…anonymous. Then that moment arrived. A gorgeous sari on a beautiful women, her hills clicked the floor. A wooden scale by her right hand and a clutch at the left. She was a work of art, flawless, princess-like and a dreamy. The class rapt to attention, the ruler indicated her to be strict, ‘I am your new class teacher, Jyoti. I’ll be teaching you maths and G.K.’ The cute, anonymous girl felt the presence of an angle, she had fallen for her gorgeous teacher. S he now became determined to turn ‘teacher’s pet sorta student student.This was misty, uncertain, unnamed feeling. Later she turned it ‘Lust’.
- Now the girl has grown to her first teen year, she had changed school, shifted over to a new country. She had grown to be a stunning angle herself. This time it was her first real crush. Wandering around the new school, looking really lost, she missed her friends, the old city of Madras. The school, the malls, even the roads and milkman. Every vibe had given her a reason to smile. Nostalgia was in the air that she breath now. She was uncertain about this place, people here seemed weird. Strange air, everybody had their own gangs and troops.. she wondered if she could fit in. She wondered if she could ever make friends like the old ones, once again. Deep in thought, she crashed into a tall guy, he had a basketball which had rolled off, down the corridor, no name, no identity. A casual sorry. She felt her heart racing, her mind rushing with fantasy. Imagination are a troublesome thing you know.
- They met again, this time in her new society, she had come out of her house to explore a bit of the neighbour. The guy seems to be an old resident, they met and he started off, with a casual reminder sorry. He was a year older. Her feelings stayed forever. He never got to know her hazy character. Her lust for him.
Some things never die. And some things never exist.
Ever thought how much lifestyle has changed, everything seemed to be ‘new and modernised’. I’m just 15, yet it feels centuries apart. Then it was hide n seek and four pillars, now it’s candy crush and temple run 2. Then it was an evening filled with fun, meaning Tom ’n’ jerry shows, now it’s all just so changed.
The other day my mom says, ‘Oh! keep quiet, i need some peace’,
and after that i saw her chatting on whatsapp, with people who live on a minute away from her. I went online and had tons of old friends online. I was chatting too. Every conversation began with, ‘Hey, sup? I’m bored.’ My dad says never has he felt bored all along his lifetime. I laughed it off, ‘that’s impossible.’ Buying clothes, for a party, was a one-day plan. We go shopping, have lunch, shop some more, snacks up with some old roadside chats, come home early by 7. I even remember taking a day off from school just to go and buy a dress for my cousin’s wedding. Now it’s all a click away. From genuinely laughing to LOL and from actually showing love to a 😍 or 💝 emoji, life has shown me tons.
Tons of plans made, time for virtually nothing, countless phone calls day-and-night, a monotonous routine. After a point, when a elastic limit is reached, we tend to run away, to faraway places. Some other cities, maybe new friends, changing new jobs. Running, running all day, with no displacement. No work done. Breaking physical rules. Demolishing laws and theorems.
One small thing i have understood from life is, it’s like a movie. Different scenes, comedy and tragedy moments etc. Sequels created. Everything seems so real. So true. Yet everything is turning virtual. Nostalgia meant sitting around with long lost soul mates and thinking about old times. We take the words for granted. Now every 2 months, old pic gets a like with comment “Aw..feeling nostalgic.” Social sites aren’t helping much. Thanks to Fb reactions, again.
Long short talk. Sarcasm overloaded. Changes are bound to occur, but not necessarily every step taken is success. Not every milestone is development. An urgent need to loopback, compare and realisation, before it’s too late, is need. Because here is too late and nothing else.
Chocolates and smoothies.
Can life be better?
Woke up with a smile. A smile costs nothing. It’s means phenomenal. There is a hurricane underneath us, and and it could ruin us. A smile, could save the world. Searching, still. For utopia. Lost in this enormous globe. But, euphoria is a step away. Wearing heels, it’s sometimes hard to jump. Yet, you got to. Jump to snatch the ‘Bliss’. It could hurt your calfs. Your patella may rupture. But you could risk.
And now you grabbed it. So live life the fullest!