Remember when the world got quarantined?

Hello World,

In times like these where our wishes come true but under the worst possible circumstances, we are all left contemplating our self-conflicting emotions.

"I really need a break from this monotonous mechanical work life."

"I'm tired of scurrying in this rat race. I'm missing out of the little things in life."

"I feel like I'm stuck in a hamster wheel. Can this stop?"

Well, it HAS stopped now. 

We are all on pause. 

We don't have to scurry now.

Just stay in the house.

The current scenario is lowkey what all of us have been hoping for, minus the novel Covid-19, of course. I've heard my colleagues and my friends constantly complain about how they would like some time off of work, to relax or enjoy some me-time. A demanding work-life has always been an excuse while it comes to pursuing a hobby or not having time for family.

Now that we have all the time in the world, we complain about having TOO MUCH time on hand. You know how they say, 

"Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it."?

Here it is, our time to read or write or meditate or workout or just lay there doing nothing. Our opportunity to make up for all the lost time. We have those extra 2 hours we'd otherwise lose while driving to and from work, the energy we saved from not having to get out of the comfort of our homes to run errands and the peace and quiet in our streets. Here is our turn to steal from those moments to make memories. 

But we're scared of abundance, I guess? We crave routine as much as we despise it. Seems like the absence of a predefined routine daunts most of us. WHY?

~

My social media feed is filled with posts and stories about how the quarantine has crippled the society and how people don't know what to do with their time. I put my phone away and think to myself about the time when people whined about their Monday blues and complained throughout the week till Friday when they couldn't wait to share their excitement for the weekend with TGIF posts. Do we always seek excuses to complain about our circumstances? Can't we, for once, be fully present in the moment and appreciate the break?

My heart aches each time I learn about the number of people who lost their lives across the world. There are several doctors and nurses and armed forces who live at a constant risk of being exposed to the virus, while trying to save lives and several others who have no mental peace as they are suspected to have been infected. Thousands of people are battling for their lives and a hundred thousand are mourning the loss of their loved ones and a million others are scared for their family members who are stranded in a foreign land at a difficult time like this. 

In other news, here we are, complaining just because we have to stay indoors for our own safety. Complaining because we have to stay at a home equipped with clean water, electricity and temperature controlled rooms and a stocked up fridge.

~

This too shall pass. We will wake up one of these days to a world without Coronavirus. We can get back to our respective hamster wheels and rat races. Until then, we should try and remind ourselves of a time when we complained about 24 hours not being enough for a day. Because very soon, we will start talking about these tough times in past tense and start whining about how we wasted all the time when we had it.

Please make the most of this time and indulge in your hobbies. Cook a meal. Redecorate your room. Plant a tree. Watch the sunset. Binge watch the series you've always wanted to watch. Or re-watch your favorites. Pull out your guitar from the loft. Spend time with your family. Finish that half-read book. Gaze at the night sky, when was the last time you did that in the absence of vehicles' vroom-vrooms and honks?

You have the freedom to do anything you wish with your time, indoors. Considering you can't change the current situation, try and change the way you look at it.

Happy Quarantine! :)

Love,

Monisha

Once upon a time, in the sky..

Sometimes, the Universe takes away a few people from our lives for our own good. Unfortunately, not all of us have the strength to understand and believe in his magic. We believe in ourselves or our love for a few people and other materialistic things so much, that we become blind to the Universe's plans. 

One such story is of the Moon who fell in love with a Cloud. 

On a fine rainy morning, the sky looked like a piece of art. The clouds occasionally revealed the beautiful hues of blue in the sky. There was a dark big Cloud with the brightest silver lining which was too heavy and rained on the Earth leaving the sky. It was unable to say goodbye to the Moon, whom it loved with all it ever had. The Moon, unaware of the Cloud's absence, rose that night and was devastated to see that the Cloud was gone. It shone the brightest it could, in anguish.That was a full moon day. 

The moon set in all its sorrow and rose the next night hoping that the cloud would come back but it vain. The Cloud wasn't there. The only wish the Moon made on every shooting star was for the Cloud to come back to sky. A few days later, it was a full Moon day again, which typically is the Moon's big day, but it wasn't. Everybody was waiting for the moon lit night. Maybe 'cause this also happened to be the day when the Moon's wish was finally granted. The cloud had come to see the Moon. 

They spent all night talking. Moon was the happiest and shone brighter than ever but the night still remained dark 'cause the moon was resting in the cloud's embrace. The next night wasn't the best night for the moon either, it did shine like it always does but nobody could see it 'cause it was clouded again. Many nights went by like that. Though the Moon was happy with the Cloud, there was still something missing. Moon wasn't completely happy 'cause it couldn't do what it always did. Shine and enlighten the earth. It sadly set before dawn broke.

The next morning, it rained again and the Cloud was gone. This time, the Moon missed the Cloud but secretly cherished its absence. 'Cause now it could be itself, beautiful, bright and full of light. 

Sometimes, the Universe takes away a few people from our lives for our own good. Let go of those who dim your light. You're meant to glow, don't let anything overshadow your shine.

Don't say you do, if you don't.

When you look at me and say, you understand what I'm going through and that it'll all be okay, do you really understand? Your reassurance means as little as a drop of rain in the desert. It evaporates even before it could get to me.
You say, you can imagine what its like to see my only sibling in a semi comatose state for the past 19 months. 
So, tell me.. How far does your imagination take you?

Does it take you to those 610 days and nights when my brother hasn't uttered a single word, despite our innumerable attempts to make him talk?

Does it take you to a Mom waking up in the middle of the night, looking at her son and turning towards you asking, 
"When will he wake up?", 
while you helplessly stare at her and pat her back to sleep?

Does it take you to a Dad putting up a strong face in front of the family, while you catch him secretly sobbing in his room?

Does your "imagination" take you to a sister looking at old chats of her brother and reading each text of his just the way he would say it, to keep herself reminded of the way they spoke?

Don't say you do, if you don't.
You can't possibly "imagine" anything close to what its like, going through this rough patch.

When you ask me how he's doing and I say, "He is getting better.", but your curiosity forces you to shoot me with a "Is he talking? Is he walking?", while I respond with a "No", just to hear you go..
"What? Why is it taking so long?"
"I can't believe he still isn't walking."
"Its been a very long time since the accident."

Well, guess what?!? I know. We know.
YES! Its taking a lot longer that we thought it would. We, however, wish we knew why. My brother is taking his sweet time to wake up while we try to shake him out of his vegetative state.
NO! He isn't talking or walking, yet. But he soon will.
When you claim to empathize with me or my family or anyone, for that matter, think before you speak. I admit, I don't know what are the right words to say to anybody going through something like this, maybe there are no right or wrong words. But I sure know what NOT to say.

I can't believe the audacity with which you say, "Oh! He shouldn't have gone out that night.". Well, you shouldn't have been born that day, but here you are. So, yeah, few things can't be undone. We just have to deal with them and wait for things to get better.

My family and I have been doing just that, waiting. The journey is testing our patience and slowly draining out our energy but our hopes are sky high. You either continue to hope and pray with us or stay as far as you can. We can do without that kind of negative vibe.

P.S. What I've learnt is: If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.

~ I'm sorry if this post came out as a whip lash, its not directed towards every person reading this. Just those certain people who bring out this version of me. #sorrynotsorry  #waiting

Guilty Pleasure

        I tried to keep myself from smiling. I sunk myself in all the grief and sorrow, not 'cause I wanted to but 'cause I dint feel anything else. All emotions slowly left me, one after the other. I was left with 2 friends: Depression and Anxiety. They were my companions. I was comfortable feeling nothing. Nothing but pain. 

When one day, I heard a knock at my door.

"Who is it?", I asked.
"Smile", said a beautiful voice.
"Go away", I said. 
"Smile has left. But can I come in?", said an even sweeter voice.
"Who are you?", I asked.
"I'm happiness", came a response.
"No. Please leave.", I yelled.

        I never heard any voices after that, for a really long time. But the knocking never stopped. It only got louder and louder, until one day the door developed cracks. Finally, the knocking had stopped and I very conveniently, swam in all my tears. Slowly, the tears started to drain out. It was happiness again, sneaking in through the cracks of the door. No matter how much I resisted, it had successfully made it's way into my life.

        I started to smile. I felt horrible for smiling. "How could I? I'm supposed to be sad.", I thought to myself. Even before my smile that barely lasted 2 seconds had started to fade, I could sense a countless number of judgmental eyes on me. "How could she smile? She is supposed to be sad.", they all echoed in chorus. 

I felt all the more miserable. 

This time, I shut the door harder and broke up with Smile. 

        But Happiness wouldn't give up, it sneaked in again. Only this time, it bought Sense and Maturity along. After talking some Sense into me, Maturity explained to me how good/bad things happen to people and just like feeling good momentarily doesn't mean one will never cry, similarly, crying your eyes out when something bad happens doesn't mean one is not entitled to laugh. And that it's okay to feel more than one emotions at once. Also, what "people" think about you should not govern your emotions. You just feel what you feel, there's absolutely no logic to it. 

         I felt less miserable after my conversation with Maturity. I hugged Happiness and patched up with Smile. 
I'm smiling, but I'm not happy. I know I'm going to be the happiest someday and I also know that things will be better. I'm sure Depression and Anxiety might come visit me once in a while and I'm okay with that. I will never forget how they stood by me when no other emotion did, they made me feel alive 'cause that was all I felt at one point. 

         I'm still smiling as I write this, but that hasn't lessened my pain even a bit. The world sees what I choose to show and the rest, it only assumes. I don't know why the world finds a necessity to have an opinion about something that does not directly or indirectly affect them in any way. But I've learnt not to care. Well, to be more honest, I've learnt to care less and let me tell you, it feels a lot better.

Happy Judging, World! If having an opinion about my life makes you happy, then go ahead. 

Smiling is my guilty pleasure. 
What's your's? :)

Wanderlust: The hidden "price tag": Unsaid terms and conditions

             I try hard to remember the last time I was home, in true sense. I'm sure I felt very safe. One thing I remember about being home was comfort, the fact that all my wishes were fulfilled, everything that I needed was taken care of; without me having to say anything.

My home, my mom's womb.
             Then, that was the only home I knew, where I thought I'd stay forever. And after what seemed like forever, I wasn't home anymore; right when I started to get comfortable, I had to leave.  I was in a completely new place I didn't know where I was but for some reason, I was familiar with the place and I recognized the faces around me. However, the fact that I wasn't home was making me restless. The only comforting thought was that I was around my home (or my home was always around me). But then my home kept moving and sometimes I couldn't find her. So I started to crawl in search of her and when I realized that crawling was taking me too long, I figured I should walk.
             When I was home, I never thought I'd have to crawl and walk. It was not at all easy. My first attempt at standing, almost seemed impossible. I fell flat on my face. It took me several attempts to get myself to stand and a lot more strength to take a step forward.The effort, the pain and struggle: ALL this, to reach home, to feel protected and safe.

              As I grew up, my definition of "home" changed; it became this combination of numbers and letters. So every new city we moved to, we had a new home, four new walls and a new roof. That's what home meant, Until we stayed there for few years at a stretch, The house that we stayed in then, was where I grew up. It was more than just 4 walls and a roof. It had innumerable memories accumulated from all those years. I then realized that it was not those walls that made a home, it's my family, They were home. I had developed a strong attachment to the place. I had gotten comfortable there, just like I was in my mum's womb. And I had to leave again, just like I had to then. Only this time, it was a conscious decision.

               I had a plan weaved in my head and I wanted to set it in action, for which I had to leave home. This was the first time I was walking away from home and not towards it. It felt just like the first time I tried to walk, painful. Only this time, I needed a lot more strength to walk. 'Cause I wasn't just walking, I was walking away. Any which ways, I had to do what I had decided for myself. So, I left. Days and months passed, a few days never ended while a few days passed in a jiffy. During the course to time, my plans had changed and so did I. I crawled and walked and fell and stood back up. There were times, when I'd just drag myself through it. I don't deny having several wonderful moments. Meeting new people, having the privilege to travel around the world, taking risks, succeeding and failing.I'd laugh till my eyes got all teary and at times, I'd lock myself up in a room and cry my eyes out while looking into the mirror till I just laugh at how things are going wrong. I feel I've seen so much and learnt so much in all this time away from home.

                Amidst all this, very often, an annoying question would pop up in my head: 

"Why did you leave home?" 

and though I had an answer that convinced my head, my heart never stopped asking. So I always diverted my heart's focus and built little traps here and there that it would conveniently fall into. Until one day when I ran out of answers and traps. What do you do when you have no answer to a question? You stand there clueless, in the middle off no where, just staring into nothing with both your feet in abyss while your brain acts as a black hole that absorbs almost everything but processes nothing. When you don't know where you belong anymore. Reality hits you,

             You know what you want but you're not convinced if that's what you need. When you fool yourself and create an illusion that it's for the best that you're doing whatever you've decided but then someone bursts your bubble. Now when the bubble you were living in isn't there anymore, you suddenly are exposed to all your demons. The protective shield is now gone and you don't know where to hide. You wander in search of it and find so many fascinating bubbles that invite you. You enter each bubble hoping to seek solitude and peace. And each time, the bubble bursts.
              You then reach a point when you want to go back. Back to where you started, back to where the journey began, back home. But soon you realize that the place you once called home, has gotten used to your absence. And your home doesn't necessarily need you, though you need it more than anything. And thus your destiny is decided. You were destined to wander. And that a HOME isn't necessarily a part of your story. That's the price you pay for your wanderlust, you will never be completely at home again. You have to wander. Forever.

What's your silver spoon?

Born with a silver spoon in the mouth!

         Well, this phrase has supposedly got to do something with wealth, right? So anybody born into a wealthy family is born with a silver spoon in the mouth? According to which, only 10% of the entire world's population falls under the "silver spoon" category. Maybe? Actually, wrong. Such misconceptions often lead to us unconsciously or consciously giving away this sense of superiority to others. Most(all) of us are born with a silver spoon in the mouth. You just have to figure out what your silver spoon is. Your family? Your home? Your talent? Your happiness or peace of mind? It could be anything. Just that you're either not aware of it or you don't realize how valuable something that you already possess could be.
       
          My family is my silver spoon. My parents who love me more than they love themselves, my younger brother who pampers me and spoils me, my granny who can do anything to make me happy and all that happiness that they fill my life with. I believe, that when you have something that money can never buy, you are possibly the richest, more like the "diamond-studded-platinum-spoon category".

            Why should wealth always be measured in terms of one's bank balance? How much can that stagnant cash/money tell about a person? Can it buy you friends? Or people to stand by you in all walks of your life? Can it buy you a smile? No.

             I always thought that friends are no big deal. I mean, not that I dint value them, just that I thought everybody has friends. Everybody has someone to talk to, someone whom they have fun with, someone who wants to be with them. If you thought so too, then I'm afraid we might not be right. Do you see that person at school/office who sits alone during breaks or finishes his/her lunch quietly while you are at a table full of friends, laughing and exchanging hi-5's? You might just disregard him/her as a loner, for all you care. Maybe you should ask that person what it feels like to not have someone to talk to.
             Friends are not easy to find. Not everybody has "friends". If you have at least one person who is just a call away when in need, that's your silver spoon.

             At home, when your Mom keeps calling you to have food while you're watching a stupid sitcom and you get so annoyed and think she's pestering you, think of those people who live so far away from home that they have to battle the time difference and wait till the sun rises back home to even talk to their Mom. Ask them and they'll tell you how they'd give away anything just to have a meal cooked by Mom.
             It's not going to fill her stomach if you eat, but she still makes sure you eat and stay healthy even if she hasn't eaten anything all day. That concern you'll constantly getting is your silver spoon.

"Every blessing ignored, becomes a curse."

-Paulo Coelho

              Why should everything that you're not, be your definition of beauty or wealth? Why does a short person assume that a few more inches would add to their beauty? And who ever said that complexion has anything to do with beauty?
              The world corrupts humans with all these stereotypes and creates an illusion that your physical appearance has a lot to do with your beauty. And that if you're a little healthy or dark or short, than maybe you should change all of it 'cause there's something wrong with you. Rubbish!
              You are beautiful the way you are. A beautiful blend of perfections and imperfections, that's what makes you what you are: Unique. As long as you're comfortable in your skin, nobody will ever ask you to change. You might try and become someone else on the outside but nothing can change who you really are. Stop seeking for acceptance, your confidence and belief that the combination of the letters b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l is meant for you, whether someone says it or not, is all that matters not the world's opinion. That beauty of your soul is your silver spoon. Don't trade your silver spoon for a steel one.

Everything that you are and everything that you have is precious. You might not be perfect but who said you should be? Dissatisfaction is the cause of frustration and it's solely our creation. Be content with what you have and value it. Stop comparing with others, it's your life and your story. There is no point of comparison.
There is nothing more blissful than having peace of mind. And only a happy mind is at peace.

At the end of this article, I'm sure you're more wealthy than you were before you read this.

Love,
Monisha.

Growing UP !

"GROW UP". How often do you get that from people?
Well, I only hear it during an argument, when I don't understand the other person's justification, 'cause then I'm suddenly immature and I need to grow up. I have no clue how to react to that. What's it with growing up anyway?

I've managed to define immaturity though. Here's my definition: "Immaturity is when you expect people to be nice to you when you have been nothing but good to them".

Little did I know, that's not how things work. 'Cause then it'd be your fault and words like gullible and immature will be fired at you.
You hit maturity when you come to terms with the fact that not everybody will reciprocate what you do for them. Clearly contradicting immaturity, maturity is when you can do whatsoever you feel like and still expect the other person to be nice to you and if they reciprocated your foul behavior and gave you a dose of your own medicine, then they are juvenile and immature to do so.
If that's where growing up takes you, I'm quite happy and comfortable being people's definition of immature. Most times, innocence is misunderstood as immaturity.

I grow every day, every moment, every second. More than just growing UP, what matters more is what you grow INTO. I'm 22 years old and those years of my life definitely have a lot to do with what I am today but is there a measure to how much my soul has "grown"? For all you know, I could be a baby at heart and my brain could take the decisions a 30 year old takes.

Trying to cope with this ambiguous imbalance, midst all the changes and experiences life has put me through, here I am, defining immaturity and immaturity while figuring out what's it like to grow up and if anybody ever really grows up.

I read somewhere that one meets a lot of temporary people from 18 to 22. Well, I did too and each one of those passing clouds have taught me something about life. No matter how small or big, how useful or vain, how important of insignificant; every lesson is precious.

• Lesson 1 : The Color GREY

If you thought the world would leave you alone with just two options(colors): Black and White, you're wrong. It's high time you acknowledge the color grey.
*drum rolls* Please?
Presenting to you, "The Grey Drive", where half of the people in the world live.
An answer to a question can't possibly be either 'yes or no', there is a 'maybe'. And that's not 'cause they don't know in their head what they really want, they probably do, but they will play their diplomacy card and let you swim in the ambiguity somewhere among one of those million grey shades.

Lesson? Acknowledge the color grey.

• Lesson 2 : Introducing the Plastics

Somehow, what you show the world is more important than what you really are. Let me ask you a question. Normally, how long does a smile last? 3 ish seconds, maybe? And it probably takes about 2 more seconds for it to fade. But guess what? I've seen smiles appear and disappear in less than 2 seconds.
Plastic alert.
You might be flashing back a genuine smile for all they care. A lot of them are so engrossed in their own mess that any other being on this planet seems like an insignificant existence to them. Actually, that's how we are sometimes. We might not realize the cold wake me pass around when we fake a smile.

Lesson? Don't join the plastic league. Melt the plastic, smile often. If not for anything, smile 'cause it makes you look pretty. You don't want to grow into a grumpy 20 something person, do you? always have that curve glued to your face. Your smile can make someone's day.

• Lesson 3 : The Shadow Friend

 "A friend in need is a friend indeed". I always wondered why the writer did not use the plural, "Friends in need are friends indeed". 'Cause he was smart and practical and he knew that it can get hard as hell to find even that one friend when you really need one. Someone who'll never leave your side, someone who'll stay just like your shadow. You might not see your shadow in darkness, but you always know it's there.
We often tend to take people for granted. It's human to be greedy. For instance, if there are 3 open boxes with gifts and one closed box lying in front of us, we'd be more curious about the one that's closed. The unknown intrigues us. Would we gamble those three open boxes for one closed one? Nobody knows.

Lesson? Value what's in your hand. Hold on to that one person, appreciate what he/she does for you. Understand how precious it is and how you can never trade anything with this friendship 'cause nothing can ever compensate for this.

That's just a few, which according to me are the core. So grow up but grow up into someone nice. Understand the world around you and respect people for who they are. Be whatever or whosoever you want to be and do what your heart says, but try not to harm anyone by your ways. Like my Mom always says, "Grow up gracefully and set an example". Wait, let me add, set a "good" example.  

And finally..

~ Always keep that kid in you alive. Smile often, value people, sing the song of life and dance to the rhythm of the universe.

Love, Monisha.