I’ll Come Back When I’m Ready

My friends and I have been talking about this a lot. I’ve been thinking about this a lot, too.

My immediate circle of friends and I agree upon one thing – that this year has been an absolute force to reckon with. The stuff that we have done in the last few months alone, and the things we’ve learnt, have been beyond epiphanic. I’m at a loss for words when I try to describe how real and challenging and rewarding this year has been. I have never felt this alive, and I have never felt this scared.

You ever do something so out of league it surprises you that you even had the nerve? That’s essentially how my year’s been going so far. Everything from attending a fellowship for Instagram, performing a live audience, flying to Darjeeling on my own, to opening an Etsy shop, to making new friends, I done it all this year. I done it all. Some of them exceeded my expectations, some turned out fine, and some, well. Some been shi**y.

YLAC, for example, opened up so many doors for me, not only in the outside world, but in myself, too. The Counter Speech Fellowship with Instagram has been my biggest achievement yet, and I cannot explain how big of a feat it has been. Guys. I used to HATE Instagram. I hated it to the core. I detested the whole idea of communication via the social internet, mostly because I was scared. I was afraid I’d lose myself in a rush to prove myself to a disconnected audience, to pretend that connections were real when they were the exact opposite, and worst: I thought I’d lose myself, trying so hard to be the person I wished I was but never would be.

I hated Instagram. I hated sharing. But now I don’t.

Achievement? Yes, sir. Gimme a pat on the back, I deserve it.

Then there’s stuff like Etsy, which I did in the most sudden, random outburst of creative energy I have ever experienced. I had a little artwork lying around, I like money, I combined the two ideas, boom, Etsy.

It didn’t work out lol

I got so caught up in the idea of selling my ideas and my thoughts to people that I forgot that this is supposed to feel good. My art is supposed to heal me, before it even tries to heal anyone else. So I left Etsy at that, feeling slightly disheartened about the whole thing.

Just this evening, the universe sent out the words I needed, as always, in the form of my mom and her sage-like advice. She said, and I quote, “It’s good to try something and realize you’re not ready for it. One day, when you put your heart to it, you will be.”

To all the people who are reading this and feeling like you’re being pushed down by the weight of your own expectations, I say this — just because you did something wrong doesn’t mean you’re bad at it, or that you suck, or that your worthless without this thing to feel proud of. It just means you ain’t ready, son. Take your time. Chill. Do something that makes you feel at ease. Keep trying. Don’t stop trying. But don’t rush it. Do more of the stuff that builds you up to the thing you’re not ready for. Build yourself up to that strength. When you’re ready, you’ll know. Let me know, too. I’ll cheer for you.

Uncertain and Afraid

Photo by Alfred Kenneally on Unsplash

Forgive me in advance if this post doesn’t seem like your cup of tea. I’m unspooling a lot of thoughts from my head at the moment, but fear not, I’m fine. I’m just taking my time to speak my mind.

I’ve been mesmerised by this poem lately after watching it on Vlogbrothers, called September 1st, 1939, by W.H. Auden. Like John, or even more so than him, I only treated the poem as a glimpse of the past, a past I could never fully understand. As a fifteen-year-old, I barely understand my own time, let alone an era of war that existed eighty years before I did. But as I read the poem again and listened to John, I found that there were certain parts of the poem that I could comprehend.

I find myself in this spot of my life where I feel responsible for things I’ve never done or never intended to do. There’s this strange aura around me right now that’s both very new and very discomforting, to say the least, which makes me feel terribly guilty of my actions, and until now, I didn’t know what was causing this.

The poem begins “I sit in one of the dives/ On Fifty-second Street/ Uncertain and afraid/ As the clever hopes expire/ Of a low dishonest decade“, and while these lines refer to the 1930s, it holds true for the present as well. I can’t put a finger on what it is, but something about the the decade we’re living in feels deeply scary. Sure, we’re at the pinnacle of scientific and technological breakthroughs, countries are way more secure than they were back then, but there is still a lingering aftermath of the hatred that the past endured. We find ourselves at the mercy of the social internet and its vagarious nature. Virtual communication is usurping the need to form real-life bonds. Relationships (not talking about just romantic ones, mind you) are made and shattered in seconds, and I hate it.

I find myself deeply and consistently aware of the transience of life, and though that’s an accurate description for any decade — the truth that life as we know it will end — now, that’s mixed with another, more disturbing truth: in today’s world, we are precariously tied to being fake and happy at the expense of being real and honest.

What I hate the most is how most people, including me, are terrified by this image, but not moved enough to change it. In John’s words, it’s like we’re all actors stuck in a play that we can’t rewrite.

We call people trash. We lash out at them for things they don’t necessarily control. We say it’s fine to break trust as if it’s something transitory, easily mendable, and in the process, we actually end up treating people as trash, we break trust, and we hate people just for the sake of not being able to love enough.

I now realize why I feel so guilty. It’s because I let myself be swept away by these waves of fear and hatred. I actually believed, even if for a moment, that loving people and being kind to them was not only stupid and dumb, but also extremely dangerous in this world, where hate runs everything. I hold myself responsible for the things I say out of hatred, but now I realize more and more, that the world we live in pushes me to treat every interaction with a neutral, indifferent tone. So who, exactly, do we blame? Ourselves? Circumstance?

I realize that I probably should reiterate the statement that I’m fine, but I am at the same time, absolutely clueless about how to resolve this. The last stanza of the poem does well to translate my thoughts into words:

Defenseless under the night
Our world in stupor lies;
Yet, dotted everywhere,
Ironic points of light
Flash out wherever the Just
Exchange their messages:
May I, composed like them
Of Eros and of dust,
Beleaguered by the same
Negation and despair,
Show an affirming flame.

As we grow older, and just a little bit wiser, I hope that we can learn to put our intense emotions aside, and just for a while, feel safe, knowing that the light we shine towards others is fair, real, pure and full of love. As Auden said,

We must love one another or die.

Be Not Silent – Mary Walker

“Do not be silent.
Do not sideline
yourself
to the imagined power
of another.
This silence you stand in
begs you, 
answer.

Be silent only
on your terms,
for your own listening,
for hearing
what you long to speak,
and when your voice rises—
speak it.

When words inflate
your chest,
heart beating ahead
of your mind,
drumming its path for you,
it is time.

Even as your palms sweat,
know this—
your body does not fear the speaking;
it does not fear being heard.
As you stand trembling,
as you hover
on the lip of voice—
all your body fears
is that you might stay silent
yet again.”

Ghost Lights

As I walk down the street

On a hot spring night,

I am overcome with a sense of longing.

A longing for the bright lights that drive our lives

To turn off and go to sleep.


Why is it that when we are in the dark,

We have to spread light in all directions?

Do we fear that the unknown will engulf us,

That the long-dead monsters will, somehow, re-emerge?


As these questions played with my mind and soul,

I reached a hole in the light, an oblivious paradise,

Where the powers of uncertainty dwelled freely,

Where I could be one with the darkness and fear and mystery.

Home.


To most, the dark is a place

Where there are demons older than trees

But I am not one of those people,

‘Cause the light was never meant for me.


-Udita Gowdety

Being Independent

I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being with an independent will. — Charlotte Bronte

Why Being Independent Matters So Much

It boosts your confidence.

Independence and the ability to hold yourself high is a big boost to your self-confidence and self-esteem. To most, the idea that they don’t need to depend on someone else for their own happiness puts them on a track of self-belief. To me, the fact that I can take care of myself is a huge motivator and this drives me to be my own hero!

Less reliance on others

The more you rely on yourself for getting things done, the more you’re likely to get done! But it is easier said than done. However, if you keep exercising your independence like a muscle, you will obviously get better with time. Soon, independence will change from a habit to a way of life, and you will achieve things that you never even dreamt of dreaming.

Better decision making

Self-reliance does something magical to your brain. It clears all the foggy, misdirecting thoughts and internal fears in your brain, making it easier for you to think with clarity. It’s an amazing feeling to be able to think clearly without any stress clouding your judgment, isn’t it?

More time for personal development and creativity

Letting go of external circumstances that influence you can have a big effect on your daily lifestyle. When I was less independent than I am right now, I would waste so much of my time at home, going over situations that I believe could have gone better. Whatever I’m doing, a nagging voice in the back of my head would keep whining, ” The day has gone bad, and it’s your fault.” This self-defeating self-talk would kill my willpower and happiness, forcing me to depend on someone else for my mental health.

But now, I don’t care about what circumstances that come my way, I just accept it and move on. As for that evil voice in my head, I’ve put it to sleep for good. My focus has been shifted to improving and nurturing my own personality.

“Absorb what is useful, Discard what is not, Add what is uniquely your own.”Bruce Lee

Increases your self-value

Making the decision to stand up for yourself teaches you the importance of self-worth. When you realize the true extent of your strengths as an individual, you strive to do everything in your power to protect those strengths and nurture them. You accept yourself for your flaws, for your innumerable cracks and quirks, because you now realize that these are a part of your core personality. You take pride in knowing that you are everything you want to be, and everything you will be in the future.

japan gold.jpg
Kinstsukuroi: The Japanese Art of Repaired Pottery

How To Increase Your Independence In Your Daily Life

Learn to enjoy your own company.

Embrace the feeling of being alone. It might seem pessimistic and introverted to distance yourself from normal surroundings for a while. But in a world increasingly focused on speed and competitiveness, solitude is precious and something to be treasured.

Solitude gives you time to reflect on life and greater meanings of the world. Every day, try to spend some of the time you spend alone to focus on yourself. Make time to be introspective and think about your life. Consider where you are and where you’re going. Think about your short and long-term goals. It will help you find calmness in a world of growing chaos.

Trust me.

giphy
One of the best things you can do to yourself

Engage in tasks that require your best efforts.

When you force yourself to focus only on the tasks that require all of your concentration, you block yourself from all others distractions that can lower your self-esteem. For example, whenever I’m feeling a little depressed, I play the guitar, sing or write. These are tasks that need me to be 100% in the moment, keeping my mind free of any distractions that will negatively affect me.

This also works if you’re trying to be more independent. If you do things that put you in a state of extreme focus and concentration, you’re more likely to do it on your own. The more you do things this way, the less dependent you’ll be on other people.

Stop trying to please people.

Talk to yourself. Understand what you want and what you need.

Please, please, please read what I’m saying very carefully: NOTHING MATTERS MORE THAN THE FACT THAT YOU NEED TO KNOW YOURSELF TO HELP YOURSELF. It doesn’t matter whether you just want to solve a personality type test or if you’re trying to get yourself out of a situation of self-despair. If you don’t know what in the world your mind thinks of itself, you’re busted. Why? Because you don’t know what you really want in life. You don’t know why some things make you smile and some make you cry, and so you don’t know how to make yourself better.

Getting to know yourself isn’t a cakewalk. But just like getting to know anyone else, it requires time and effort. It requires that you go out of your way to make sure what you’re doing makes sense and feels right not to your friends, your relatives or your pet cat, but to you. You must be willing to be vulnerable to yourself, in order to fully, truly be yourself.

Do you think you can do that?

I’m pretty sure you can.

Overcome self-hate.

Independence in my life has opened me up to a beautiful, vivid world outside of my bubble of fears and doubts. It has allowed me to treat life, not as a task to tick off a list, but as a gift. I have stepped way outside my comfort zone, something that I never would have done, and in doing so, I have been able to enjoy my life with clarity and a sense of gratitude. I have stopped looking at myself as insignificant, and I have started believing that I do have some value in this world.

The last one week has made me feel much more alive than I’ve felt in a long time. I’ve tried new things, made a fool of myself, pushed myself to new limits, and most importantly, GROWN FROM THE INSIDE.

But opening up to myself at such a level was not easy. to do. It was something I had been putting off for a long time because I was too afraid to know myself. But now that I have, I feel free.


If you’re reading this, first of all: thank you! You successfully read an 1100-word essay! Second: Thank you for your time and attention. It really means a lot to me that my writing gets noticed so much, and words cannot express my gratitude towards every single one of you who reads my stuff.

This post has been pretty personal for me (not that the others aren’t) because it’s made me think about my own struggles with self-love. It’s made me realize that ever since I started blogging 7 months ago, I’ve become WAY stronger and happier than I was, say, a year ago. I’ve learnt to love myself on a scale that I’ve never done before, and all the credit to my happiness goes to you, dear readers. You have made my life colourful, exciting, and full of amazing opportunities.

I love all of you. Thank you for making my life beautiful.

I Looked at The Stars

I looked at the stars,

And my unfathomable despair went away.

I looked at the stars,

And I thought that life was okay.

I looked at the stars,

And I knew, right then, that love could be true.

I looked at the stars,

Never realizing

The whole time,

I was looking at you.

Lemme get comfy for a second

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School has been bittersweet for the last one week.

Actually, most just bitter and cloudy, with intermittent rays of hope and joy during basketball class and TV time.

This whole last week, until yesterday, I had my FIRST unit tests of 9th grade. I can’t really say that I enjoyed it, but neither can I say that it was miserable. It was, for a lack of a better word, okay. Just fine. The whole experience has, however, made me feel extremely burned out for some reason. I have been pushing myself to do everything from getting up in the morning and brushing to reading and, to my surprise, writing.

I usually like to schedule my posts because I am a very organized person, but this is the first time in weeks that I have no posts scheduled and no ideas whatsoever. I am literally building this post up as I go. So clueless, I am.

I actually feel like that’s a good thing because lately, my posts haven’t made me feel a solid connection between what I’m writing and what I’m actually thinking. It is true that a well-worded post with valuable information and insights is a good post, but if it isn’t able to connect with the author herself, then there’s no way it can connect with the audience properly. That, I think, is one reason my blog’s views have gone down in the last 3 weeks. It’s not that views matter, but the number of views I get is a reflection of how interested my readers are in reading my content. And lately, Y’all have been bored. Honestly, so have I.

I have, however, been researching A LOT about creative writing sites, clubs and resources online. I’ve also been working on a short story that I intend to put up on Wattpad in time for this year’s Wattys. You can follow me too. Thanks if you do.

Despite the fact that last week was largely boring and dissatisfactory, I was able to keep my spirits high most of the time, thanks to basketball. I cannot emphasize enough the importance of sports in making my life a hundred times better than it already was before. Basketball has opened me up to new people, who are all on the way to becoming my good friends. Right now, it is the biggest aspect of my social life as a human being (besides, of course, school and the internet). I cannot thank my friends at basketball class enough, for lighting up my week with positive energy. Thanks, guys.

whew. that felt really good.

I’m glad that I can finally write freely after two weeks of intense study preparation, and I will do everything I can to make my writing more comfortable, instead of it feeling like I’m writing my posts with a gun to my head.

Song of the Week: Strawberries and Cigarettes by Troye Sivan

Love, Simon Album Cover

Book of the Week: The Great Gatsby

The Great Gatsby Book Cover

 

 

Road

The sparkle in her eyes

Makes you feel that fairytales are true

She doesn’t even have to try

She can make you swoon from morning to noon


Then she puts on her disguise

Fact or fiction, oh we have no clue

Cause she’s afraid of what she can do


So she set herself on fire

So we could see her burn

But we’ve only heard her whisper

No matter what she’s done


She can’t take it any longer

She’s going to explode

Unless she takes a long drive

Down her favourite road


She was the perfect poster child

Could light up the world with her sense of humour

But now she barely smiles

Oh, what happened there, god knows what hit her


She tries not to cry

But she fears her happy days are over

She doesn’t really think that she’s a failure

She’s just waiting for someone to save her


She set herself on fire

Cause she wanted to be sure

She was gonna be remembered

She thought she wasn’t anymore


Unreal expectations will put her

into overload

Unless she takes a long drive

Down her favourite road

Should we hate our imperial history?

From the book Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind by Yuval Noah Harari —

All human cultures are at least in part the legacy of empires and imperial civilisations, and no academic or political surgery can cut out the imperial legacies without killing the patient.

Think, for example, about the love-hate relationship between the independent Indian republic of today and the British Raj. The British conquest and occupation of India cost the lives of millions of Indians and was responsible for the continuous humiliation and exploitation of hundreds of millions more. Yet may Indians adopted, with the zest of converts, Western ideas such as self-determination and human rights, and were dismayed when the British refused to live up to their own declared values by granting native Indians either equal rights as British subjects or independence.

Nevertheless, the modern Indian state is a child of the British Empire. The British killed, injured and persecuted the inhabitants of the subcontinent, but they also united a bewildering mosaic of warring kingdoms, principalities and tribes, creating a shared national consciousness and a country that functioned more or less as a single political unit. They paid the foundations of the Indian judicial system l, created its administrative structure, and built the railroad network that was critical for economic integration. Independent India adopted Western democracy, in its British incarnation, as its form of government. English is still the subcontinent’s lingua franca, a neutral tongue that native speakers of Hindi, Tamil and Malayalam can use to communicate. Indians are passionate cricket players and chai (tea) drinkers, and both game and beverage are British legacies. Commercial tea farming did not exist in India until the mid-nineteenth century, when it was introduced by the British East India Company. It was the snobbish British sahibs who spread the custom of tea drinking throughout the subcontinent.

How many Indians today would want to call a vote to divest themselves of democracy, English, the railway network, the legal system, cricket and tea on the grounds that they are imperial legacies? And if they did, wouldn’t the very act of calling a vote to decide the issue demonstrate their debt to their former overlords?

Even if we were to completely disavow the legacy of a brutal empire in the hope of reconstructing and safeguarding the ‘authentic’ cultures that preceded it, in all probability what we will be defending is nothing but the legacy of an older and no less brutal empire. Those who resent the multinational of Indian culture by the British Raj inadvertently sanctify the legacies of the Mughal Empire and the conquering sultanate of Delhi. And whoever attempts to rescue ‘authentic Indian culture’ from the alien influences of these Muslim empires sanctifies the legacies the Gupta Empire, the Kushan Empire and the Maurya Empire. If an extreme Hindu nationalist were to destroy all the buildings all the buildings left by the British conquerors, such as Mumbai’s train station, what about the structures left by the India’s Muslim conquerors, such as the Taj Mahal?

Nobody really knows how to solve this thorny question of cultural inheritance. Whatever path we take, the first step is to acknowledge the complexity of the dilemma and to accept that simplistically dividing the past into the good guys and bad guys leads nowhere.

Unless, of course, we are willing to admit that we usually follow the lead of the bad guys.