A self reflection
Category: Emotions, Ramblings
Is it just me, or have we been made to download new versions/updates to Wordpress lately? I just finished the task on AExA not more than twenty minutes ago. I’ll scream if there’s another update to it soon.
Anyway. I think I’ve found most of everything to preoccupy myself over the past two months or so: dramas, photography, mangas, books, movies, scrapbooking, flower pressing, origami, and very recently - exploring the art of papermaking. It’s amazing, I think, how easily I was able to move from one interest to the other. Explore, divulge, immerse, create - that was my mantra for the past few months. I have seen, read, learnt and did everything I could get my hands on.
It was liberating.
I mastered the art of avoidance; it’s a shame that reality eventually catches up though. Or else I’d find the next thing to occupy my mind with.
Edited, many times.
Shitty month
Category: Emotions, Ramblings
Just when you think it couldn’t get worse, it does. I can even list out the things that have gone bad, but I refuse to show more angst than I normally do, least someone thinks I’m emo.
… That was just an excuse, by the way. I’d rather not share, because then I’d have to attempt to be cryptic because I’m just that kind of person. They say ignorance is bliss, right? Well it’s only after you perfect it. The in-betweens are almost tortuous.
The visit, isn’t going as bad as I thought it would. There could be better days but that’s just life. As for what I was/am doing wrong, I haven’t been very successful considering how I gave in twice since the post was made. In retrospect, it’s probably not all that bad; old habits are hard to break and I think these things take time to get used to, to let go. Especially if it’s a very old habit.
The kittens have been growing up, obviously. They’re a little over a month old, can you believe it? I have tons of photos I want to share. Thankfully, Flickr Uploadr makes it easier to do so. Their eyes are changing color now, from blue to maybe orange, I think. I was hoping green, but… who knows. At the moment, it’s still at the transforming phase. Which looks beautiful.
What else? I don’t know, I guess this is just one of those fill-in posts.
10 years and counting
Category: Memory lane, Ramblings, Walk of life
We moved to India mid 1996. My siblings and I left the only thing we’ve ever known in our lives to start anew.
Four days after landing onto Indian soil, we got enrolled in school. I was in 8th grade, on new land and in an unfamiliar place. I was at school where most people knew each other from the time they were in Kindergarten. My classmates would stare at me uncomprehendingly whenever I spoke. The accent was hard to follow and the Hindi/Urdu or whatever it was I spoke back then was pitiful. Imagine someone speaking your native language in an entirely different accent.
Those three years in high school were extremely difficult and uncomfortable for me. Do you know how it is to feel like you don’t belong? I was a loser and a class certified nerd; the whole high school drama, status-quo. I hated not being able to relate with my classmates, often missing my old friends who knew me inside and out and didn’t mind the weirdness that was me. I missed the familiar carefree neighborhoods and hated being jailed up here. I made friends, yes but the friendships were short lived. I won’t deny that we had fun though - those were probably the best days of that time. However, towards the end of my last year there, I chose not to be included into “the group” and that decision of mine cost me the quality of friendship I had. We were still friends, but not as close. And somewhere along the way, I made a new friend - one who may have not been well liked but understood me, somehow. I lost contact with her a few years after graduation.
Then came Intermediate. Most but not all Indian schools have grades upto 10 and then graduation, unlike graduation at the 12 grade level. After 10th grade, there were two years of an “Intermediate” course where you decide between pursuing an “Engineering” field or one related to Science. At 14/15 years of age, it’s not an easy decision to make and as a result some of us (but not all) simply go along with whatever the parents say. It was during those two years that I met some of my closest friends to date. I learnt about true friendship and just how deep those roots can run. I even got better grades. But whenever there is a beginning there must be an end; we had to part ways because our choice in professions and universities did not coincide.
In an alternate universe
Category: Ramblings
You turn up the volume, securing those uncomfortable ear buds in their place. The first few musical notes fill your ears and invade. It tinkles down; pausing to hover around that warm place as it effectively awakens the rest of you from its slumber.
You allow its tempo to pulse through you - countless instruments that you don’t know the name of. It ignites and flares up in heated waves that ascend and then spiral down out of control only to lift you back up so high that you wish you could just keep soaring, never having to stop.
The music slows and there’s a pause. You hear that voice you love. It flows so easily and sings like you never could but you try anyway.
Suddenly it’s you on that stage, in front of all those people, rocking that crowd.
You feel the music pulse through your veins, spreading like wild fire as you let it rock your chest. You search deep inside and find the voice you know is there. You pull it with you as you belt out the lyrics that seem to be made for you.
You’re on that stage and you’re rocking that crowd.
You’re almost to the end now, and the crowd knows it. Just as you are about to sing the last verse, the music suddenly stops. It sweeps back up your veins, hard and fast. And then it’s gone.
“Maybe, you shouldn’t sing…” soft brown eyes meet your own, trying but failing to conceal the amusement that lurks within.
Embarrassment floods you and blood rushes up your neck as you take in other pairs of brown eyes, similar to your own, looking at you with identical expressions on their faces.
Red-faced, you turn away to look at the screen in front of you. That horrid essay is still there, awaiting completion. You glare at those words, daring them to make fun of you, too.
The clickity-clack of the keyboard soon accompanies the music in your ears. You reach forward and turn down the volume, just in case.