How to survive 2017 (An overview of 2016)

2016 could easily be called the ominous year (exceptions of the plaque and world wars). With the clear disgust, disapproval and disconcern about the year, all of us are the waiting for the last few days to pass like sand through fingers. Carrie Fisher dying seemed to be the cherry on the cake collapsing under its own weight.

I don’t want to be chased by an angry mob millennials, but I honestly did have a decent 2016. Which qualifies me to write a guide to how to survive the coming year, 2017. Come on guys be a little excited, if anything, atleast for the wild parties on 31^st and for those of you who go to sleep at 10:30 just to rebel, or spend time in peace; I see you, I see you good.

Well I could sure make a list but that is too boring even for my taste. Secondly by no means this might work for everyone so just enjoy my mindless chatter and my un-asked for expert opinion.

Now you must know I survived my 2016 because of my 8 month long vacation which stretched on till August. Thus most of my time was wasted away in staring at my laptop screen mindlessly or coloring on the walls. I read books and thus tried to stay in touch with my hunger for knowledge. I went into a coma where my assimilation of knowledge was just like one listening to music. Taking in the words, but not the meaning.

This seems like a complain, well it is, but not as much as it is a lesson. I learnt that reading, getting active information is the key to wisdom. Now I aint trying to sound like a 90 year old man or a monk, just giving some good ‘ol advice, read as much as you can, because nothing adds more character than books.

I went through a lot of anxiety and in fact developed a hysteric sense of humor due a project taken up by me. Obviously a success, I think the biggest lesson of the year would be to have patience towards people and situation, because in the end, everything ends well. Putting it into perspective, waiting for your order at the favourite restaurant is always worth it.

And with those wise words, developed a new emotion, we millennials constantly seem to be experiencing is “ahhh fuck that” often exclaimed with droopy eyes and bushy hair. This taught me that some situations just need you to kick back and relax because these people or things don’t need your time and energy, because it is not going to add to you as a person.

I saw way too many posts on social media where people expressed their reluctance to go out there and put effort into their week or day. I did the exact opposite and I can rightfully say I did conquer each day everyday. All y’all got to do is get out of bed and look at the glass as half full.

Trust me it works.

As philosophical as this post is getting, I think it’s okay, three days to the year end and I can assure you I am now a much calmer and happier person. Honestly with this age of social media and all information always floating around in the car, we as humans still failed to acknowledge the real news of the world and instead dwelled in the media spun stories about war, politics and economics. 

Obviously as general public, that’s the information we have access to but it’s up to us to not jump on to bandwagons we don’t know the destination or origin of. It’s time for us to get smarter and put our mind to more useless things than scrolling on Instagram at 3 am.

It’s clear that most things went wrong in the year. The uproar about differences in religion. Un deserving presidential candidates, shadow of war in the middle east we always pray for, political unrest in India and its fight with Pakistan and on a more personal level loss of motivation, death of our favorite singers and actors, stupid medical examination goof ups, student suicides and demonetization.

But keeping in mind all the unfortunate events we had a lot of good news to look forward to in 2016 too. PV Sindhu’s win at the Olympics, wider acceptance of the LGBTQ community, beautiful Canadian Prime minister opening borders to refugees and other countries following, Consequences of Brexit are subjective, introduction of a digital India, more woman centric films like Dangal, Hidden figures. Uber and other startups rose in India (oh thank thy lord for Uber) Sure war still exists, but with collective effort of our main nations, 2017 will be a year where second world countries become strong in defense and sociopolitical situations, not sure about the first world countries.

Sure the world seems to be on a tip of collapsing, but I can’t guarantee what sort of year 2017 will be. But the least we can do is have a positive outlook and stop binging on mindless videos and go out and breath and more aware. Start thinking about the earth and where our individual actions lead the world.

We don’t want to be only known as the generation that killed the Great Barrier Reef.

Oh and a Happy New Year!

  

Teardrop on the fire

It starts with a little zest of enthusiasm, bubbly and ubiquitous. The anxiety makes your head spin while the excitement makes the colors of the world animated. The red is like the seductive pout, luring me in with the beauty of an idea I am not able to encapsulate into a metaphor. The white is like the whimsical dandelion, changing paths with the wind, welcoming the irony that destiny has to offer. The black is as sinful as it was. May be even more; more than I can decipher.

My insanity died too soon.

I liked how the wings of the butterfly were frames of a motion picture; breaking and forming creating an image purely out of the struggle to gain coherency. I liked how I noticed the smile lines on people’s faces. I could guess the age, couldn’t I? It was a good game to play with myself. I play games with myself a lot. Counting the number of liars in the room and pretentiously trying to cleanse the awkward but obvious pretense in people. It worked only in my head.

What were we talking about?

After the euphoria, comes the downfall. There is no peak. No plateau and nowhere to stop to enjoy your success. Success of finally understanding what are you standing here for. Success of finally realizing that the pseudo peak is your downfall into insanity. And maybe I liked it that way. I liked the screeching scratching downfall. Because that’s when I felt most alive.

When the wind kissed my face and the doors flung opened in the face of my restrictions. As I cut through the air it wasn’t fear, but sheer happiness inspired by pure achievement of what I valued most: the feeling of my own presence.

That’s when I realized I was a teardrop falling on the fire. As unmovable and unclaimed for the fire was and I as insignificant as the next, I knew I could still make the wood sizzle. 

~Nikita 

A few words

Very seldom do we discover our pursuits. And very seldom do we keep pushing ourselves to keep in touch with them. This piece was inspired by the idea of feeling really small and insignificant but yet powerful with a hope and drive. That is when you know that its time to go an extra mile and push yourself to do that one extra rep, study an extra hour or ponder over your art, because somewhere your are flicking the string of change.

Fragmented tries of the ambitious.

Everybody seems to have a plan but me.

With all the craziness surrounding the admissions it seems to me that everyone has forgotten what it is like to take a deep fresh breath and enjoy the sunlight and what a delight it is to actually taste the food you eat.

I probably know this because all I do is…laze around.

Does that mean I’m unambitious?

Looking at all the medicine and engineering aspirants, us, the animals away from that herd feel like our hustle isn’t enough. Well to break it to you all, I am definitely an above average student with dreams to fulfill which are different from being able to eat that last piece of cake in my fridge. I do see myself as a CEO and an empowered woman, but currently it’s just me sitting on the sidelines looking at zombie looking young adults race for those scarcely provided seats.

Reminds me of an enraging thing.

The 9 or so suicides that were committed just because of the JEE mains (First of the many exams to be given to get into IIT) marks were eligible but NOT GOOD ENOUGH. The sudden change in the medical examination syllabus and in the exam itself, two days before the exam, leaving thousands of aspirants preparing since 2 years, totally unprepared.

Our students are trying, killing themselves in isolation and depriving themselves of real practical experiences just to grab a seat in the top or at least decent colleges so that they can secure an unforeseeable future. The ratio of medical seats to students is 1:0.08 (approx.). I think the government needs to be reminded the ration of doctor per patient of 1:50000.

I think it’s time for Indians to be a little more quality oriented and little less result oriented. Our numbers are only increasing because students are killing themselves.

But then this series of surprising events happened. Many IIT eligible kids changed streams to arts and commerce, to pursue a much more involved interest. Well it partially comes down to the society to stop showing medicine and engineering as the most prestigious professions so that parents don’t need to spend so much money and time to bring the child’s spirit to vain before he realizes that’s not what he wants to do.

And well, if you are wondering, it enrages me because how stubborn our society can be and how people are pushed to limits from where one can’t even see any other possibilities which could possibly be their calling. And when it comes to me being a little foggy about my future, perhaps I’m not; sure we might not seem as focused as thousands out there, but I think there is a plan for kids like me who just go with what their gut tells them (gut feelings are 100% of the time wrong when it comes to a situation based on chance).

That being said, we can charm our way through. Don’t worry I have given exams myself to get myself in a good place. For now let’s just look forward to the future and the angry mob of parents that might chase me down tomorrow.

HAPPY ADMISSIONS EVERYBODY!

Writer's Note: I felt the need to write this; I cant explain why. Thus m sorry this is more like a diary entry.

Lost and Found (A true story)

Seeing someone reading a book you love, is seeing book recommending a person.
~Mcleod's Tumblr (quote by a Reddit user)

This is story which is really close to my heart. Some of you might find it very basic but the very experience managed to influence me so deeply that my inspiration derives from this man.
In September, amidst the pressure of my A levels and constantly trying to reach the top of the growing pile of word to get done, my only escape; well for a nerd that I am, were the English passages that would, at least for the length of them, make me feel like there was some creativity and art left in this world. Mind you I sucked at A levels English, but I think it was worth the while I spend researching the rest of the passage online.

One lecture, sitting in a class of 10 students, I came across this story by Vita Sackville west. I was thinking about it even while and after going home. The very structure of the story, the storyline, the characters and the dance of words that rained on me were so impactful that I made it my goal to search for this book and read it so that I could be devoured by the magic of her writing.
Sadly, importing it to India seemed to cost my goddam kidney.

In the month of December, I was in Vancouver, walking into bookshops and crawling out under the weight of all the paperbacks I had bought. Let me tell you something about bookshops. They are magical with their leather backs and golden letters on the cold spines on these books that make the whole place smell like a perfume I want to capture in a bottle and take home with me. Somewhere I had decided that I was going to go home with the book I wanted and already loved without even reading it.

On a wet, gloomy and extremely chilly day I was walking down the streets of downtown searching for a place to eat. By now I was used to most streets except this one; I didn’t really expect to find the bookshop that I was planning to visit waiting for me there by the corner. McLeod’s.

Now you must think that this story is about a book. Well that is partially true. But it’s really about this man.

This bookshop was a ramshackle place. With books of miscellaneous genres piled up by the door in tall stacks which could topple over any moment. The bookshelves were tall and were stuffed with books till there were so close that some were actually bending. There were random glass cases locked with shining copies of hard bound and leather books. I walked so cautiously in fear that I would cause an avalanche of books. Yes, the whole place looked like a blanket of dust had fallen evenly over it, but for me this was the most enchanting thing I had seen and I was too tongue tied and mortified to actually ask the old man what I wanted.

I thing its time I tell you that this man I have been talking about, was old and slow. Each movement was well thought out where one looking would think that he has forgotten what he was going to think next. With thick glasses that settled on the bridge of his nose, he looked at everyone who walked into the book store with a scrutinizing gaze that made his crow’s feet look deeper and darker.
I wandered around so numbed and overwhelmed that I literally didn’t know where to start and what to look for. I had totally forgotten what I actually wanted. All I could think of was all the untouched history in the narrow aisles and all the forbidden romances amidst them. All the whispers that were louder than screams and all the footsteps that were anticipating but not in a hurry.

I loomed in each section for so long that I’m sure I was collecting dust.

I finally admitted defeat and approached the old man mumbling the name of the author. Oh. I didn’t exactly remember the name of the book since I had half expected to recognize it If I came across it. I hadn’t anticipated I would be searching for it.

I must have gotten the name wrong, but the man heard calmly and I even accepted that he looked so blank that he probably didn’t know what I was talking about. He seemed to have no clue what I was talking about.

But his gaze shifted and he looked at the bookshelves behind me. Suddenly he was calmly walking towards the shelf and with shivering hand yet rhythmic movements tenderly pulled out the book that bought me to tears. Yes I wasn’t the book with the story I had read back in school, but it bore the name of the woman whose work I was searching for and the name of the books I had dreamt of owning one day. The man who looked so lost and clueless, was actually well versed with every book in the shop. For me which looked like a shabby and old unorganized store was as organized to him. He knew where each book rested and the stories that guarded it. He looked at books like they were all the riches he ever wanted and spoke so passionately about each; I had never seen anyone so passionate about anything in this world which has lost the meaning of the very word.

It wasn’t his extensive knowledge that captivated me but the choice of not forgetting what he learnt from running the bookshop and still loving what he did as if he knew the art would die one day. He was the type of person I knew I had respected and aspired to be, but had never met.
That day I walked out of the store not only tightly clutching my new books but also trying to hold on to moments so that I would never forget this day.

Writers Note: this bookshop is pretty known within the locals. and i just realized that they have a basement which makes the top floor look empty. :)))))))
unfortunately, they have taken down their tumblr.
But here's the store on maps.
Mcleod's Address on google maps.

This is a family matter. (A book review)

I usually don’t publicly speak about my book choices nor review any books. However, Rohinton Mistry knows how to make you love reading all over again with his suave language and send words to tickle the weak spots of your heart. Family matters was a work of rhythmic language, it comes to you like a wave of little moments of happiness, sadness and gratitude.

As a Mumbaikar, this book was an opportunity to know the youth of this city. How different the vast expanse of this island city stretched that still influences hearts in its old age and is even a motivation to live. It is depicted how an old man can influence lives through illness and death and how your actions come to bite you. This wasn’t the type of book I would originally pick off the book shelf, but something made me do it and I haven’t regretted it ever since.

This is probably not the best book I have read, but family matters is certainly the most influential and impressive book there is. The words have the power to engrave themselves in one’s memory and each character is so evergreen, it’s as if you have known each one for your whole life. Which is probably true, since the story screams as the pages are turned in anticipation.

The genre of this book will not please a teenager or any youth. Nobody wants to know the grievances of anybody they don’t know because everyone has their own share. But then why this book would be written? This is a painting, where each stroke of the brush tears the paper and leaves an everlasting mark which reminds you how life can turn around without your consent and soon the rainbows and rain all mix into each other.

This is a masterpiece which I believe is worth being hung on the wall and looked upon each day.

Read this enthralling novel people! If not for the entangling domestic drama but for the history of the vitality and corruption of Mumbai. For all the amazing characters that you can identify with, for the luxury of understanding how beautiful your own life is.

I hope this book gets popular through blogging! Reading is magical.

The summary: At the age of seventy-nine, Nariman Vakeel already suffering from Parkinson’s disease, breaks an ankle and finds himself wholly dependent on his family. His stepchildren, Coomy and Jal, have a spacious apartment, but are too squeamish and resentful to tend to his physical needs.

Nariman must now turn to his younger daughter and her husband and two sons, who share a small crowded home. Their decision will test not only their material resources but in ways all their tolerance, compassion and integrity. 

(image courtesy- Google)

India's story of patience.

There is no story. Indians don’t know the meaning of patience. What is patience you ask us? Waiting for atleast 2 people to checkout before cutting a line. What is patience? Forcing your car between 2 others perpendicular to the whole traffic, within 2 minutes of the signal turning red. What is patience? Rushing into decisions that have a downward effect on the whole nation.

Don’t ever ask us what patience means. We have never known the meaning.

It is a universal problem, however seems to be more concentrated on us. God seemed to have forgotten to give us this virtue. May be we are not one of the worse cases out there, but we aren’t the most saintly ones either. As much caring one is, there is no patience unless it concerns each one of us. The traffic jams would probably be less of a puzzle if we learnt what the white lines on the road mean, how lane discipline works. Stampedes, deaths and accidents wouldn’t be such a bad problem if instead of panic, patience and rationality crept into our minds, and instead of making a situation worse, there could be a rainbow of solution shining above our head.

But no wait! Let’s just all rush into a store like bulls and throw stuff off the racks after seeing them and not finding them pleasing. Because patience.

Well this outburst comes from the accumulated personal experiences which, I’m sure we all can relate to. The important underlying truth behind this behavior that we have been overlooking is a selfish motive. We all do things because apparently it will help us meet an individual desire, but what we forget is that we aren’t alone in this world. Nor are we as individual in the center of it. It is ironic how everyone is capable about advices about patience and etiquettes but no one in the right situation remembers their own advice. Better said than done right?

If we did think about the effect of our behavior on others, then we would be benefitted ourselves. People would be more forgiving, foregoing and kinder. Rushing to make money in a faster way will only reproduce more hungry mouths, more tattered homes and more broken families. On an even larger level religion would not be the excuse for our anxious restless minds, and the real meaning of patriotism would still be intact.

Less soldiers would be rushed off to war, if countries would negotiate patiently. Laws wouldn’t have to be ENFORCED on people since everyone would understand it better. There would be more agreement and solutions then a worsening economy.

Well like Aristotle famously said, patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet. But sweet fruits haven’t ripened yet. They won’t till us as individuals take steps to improvement. Because urging no longer works. Actions speak louder and inspiration is the weapon to get results. India needs results now, leading as a nation should be our aim not individual motives. We have dug our own graves and this our own fault.

Something needs to be done. We all are running out of patience.

Few words: Eid Mubarakh. :) 

Little Bits

Wind in her hair she walks,

with fire in her eyes she talks.

Galaxies collide as her vagabond soul dissolves in the essence of her insanity.

~Niki

***************************

They keep meeting.

Hiding their insanity from vicious judgement.

They kept touching. Carving stories on each other.
They kept running. Away from the foreseen tryst.

But. Finally the hidden desire awakened as time and destiny finally met.
finally halting but yet running.
~Niki