DEAR 2019! IT'S TIME TO REBOUND

I woke up to 2017 with a firm mind and made so many promises to myself. Come 2018, I went into hibernation (a really long one), and I have no one to blame but myself. However, unlike the hibernating creatures, I was nowhere near saving my energy, rather I spent it all to fight the forces around me; deep, dark, negative forces, which were slowly but surely draining life out of me. Year 2018 began on positive notes and I had it all under my control (or at least I thought so). Little did I know that I was under the most dangerous illusion of universe, the illusion of control.

As the year unfolded, it led to circumstances that made me question my very identity. At the beginning, I resisted emotions and tried to bring change. How naïve I was! The harder I tried, the more helpless I felt as life forced me to stand, watch and push its lessons through my head. I saw people change colors faster than a chameleon. I lost a very dear person to a nasty accident. I watched families crumble right before my eyes. I saw fake people being loved for their pretense while I got judged for being real.

I tried so hard to battle my own demons, but all I could do was stand there and watch my sanity burned to the ground. I lost myself in the myriad of false faces and fake feelings. Tangled in web of emotions, I became a slave of my thoughts. My mind and heart were no more in synchronization, and doubts clouded my judgment. The once enthusiastic, exuberant girl became the worst version of herself. I ended up having ugly rows with people who truly loved me for those who I thought loved me.

Amidst all the commotion, one thing became crystal clear to me. People took me for granted, the very thing I loathed the most. People dared to insult me on my face because they knew I wasn’t going anywhere. People assaulted my dignity because they thought I didn’t have any. People spoke to me at their will and at times completely ignored me like I didn’t exist at all. Some people even looked at me like I was the shallowest being God ever created, and that hurt like hell.

My senses failed miserably to differentiate between right and wrong, and that’s exactly the irony which brought me back to my senses. Isn’t it amazing how irony helps you to experience the true meaning of life? You need sorrow to feel joy. You need chaos to bring order.

After a year of being subjected to the irony of tolerating mockery, disrespect and insults, one fine day I realized that my patience has reached its threshold. And how could it not? Even the nicest people’s patience has limit. That’s when I knew that though I had fallen, it was now time to rebound.

Picture Courtesy: Google Images

But, it’s easier said than done, and fortunately, I at least knew where to seek help. Without further delay, I reached out for my two best friends – pen and paper. And there they were, sitting patiently to listen to me while I furiously penned down my pain, and after one long hour, I finally found a trace of peace after a long, long time.

So here I am, not completely at peace, but still joining my pieces. I am listening to music (lots and lots of it), watching Netflix, enjoying movies and connecting with people filled with wisdom. Yes, I am recovering.  

While I am pouring my heart out to you all, my earphones are comfortably plugged in and the beats of Inna’s Ruleta is pulsating throughout my body, and all I can think of is how I can realign myself to my previous form. How to become a phoenix and rise from the ashes? I know it’s going to be tough but not impossible.

I need to remind myself that I was born a girl, the gender that has always been underestimated and overlooked. But, I promise myself to be the girl that no one saw coming. I need to remind myself that I am a survivor, a warrior, and not a quitter. People can ignore me to their heart’s content, but they can never shake me off. I am going to speak and ink up all my pain, and if you are one of those who have dared to wrong me, then better brace yourself.

It is time for me to rise, rebound and restructure myself. I am done reaching out to people who won’t welcome me with extended arms.

Picture Courtesy: Google Images

My next post will be up soon, and I don’t know who is willing to wait for it and who isn’t. But to all of you who are willing to give your precious time, I can only say that I will be back with wiser words painted with experience of my life, with hope in my heart that in this journey called life, my experience can help you in the best possible way. Till then, fare thee well friends!

WAKING UP TO 2017

It was a beautiful Monday morning of 2017. A soft breeze was kissing my face and caressing my hair. My beloved husband was on tour which gave me an opportunity to enjoy the bliss of solitude, although I missed him terribly. I made a perfect plan to have my day out, but a glance at my living room instantly brought me back to my senses. Books scattered on study table, empty bottles lined up on the floor and garnishing the mess was a pile of clothes in the laundry basket.

To my own surprise, instead of following my monotonous routine, I decided to have a rendezvous with my best of friends - pen and paper. You say it's been a long time. More than a year I say. Gosh! How I missed them! Ever since I got hooked up to the love of my life, things have never been the same. To me, leaving behind my spinsterhood felt like waking up from a slumber. November of 2017 marked my first wedding anniversary, but the fact of being turned into 'missus' from 'miss' still hasn't sunk in. My marriage, however, is the prime reason of coming out of my dormant stage.

I have waked up to a whole new life. I have waked up to new responsibilities and endless possibilities. I have waked up to the beauty of true love, to the beauty of newfound dreams, and to new dimensions of life. To be honest, the transition wasn't easy, but an easy life never gave the joy of success. Till November 2016, all I did was eat, pray, love, read, write, hang out with friends, wash clothes (at times), and sometimes prepare tea and dinner for my family. Post November 2016, I ate, seldom prayed, loved of course, read less, wrote even lesser, prepared tea along with breakfast and lunch and watched movies when time permitted. 

Let me be clear that there's nothing in the list that I had to do against my wish, although life often made me do so. It's just that I was and I'm still trying to strike a balance between my responsibilities and my passions. And this is exactly how I've woken up to 2017. Technically, 2017 is about to sink in oblivion, but sitting there on that fine Monday morning among the mess with my two best friends helped me to wake up to this beautiful realization that to explore the sea, you must have the courage to leave your comfort zone. 

Last one year was a wee bit rough. Getting used to my new routine that was nowhere near my old one was more than tough. I missed my parents often and missed my sisters even more. Frustration and anger got triggered in no time. Above all, I had to stay away from my beloved husband for the first three months of our marriage which was enough to make me outrageous. As a newlywed, all I did was keep dreaming of an extravagantly romantic life that was in stark contrast with my present one. That's life. Nothing goes as planned.

The brief rendezvous with pen and paper brought these wonderful epiphanies. Now that I'm fully awake, I'm ready to leave my comfort zone and all set to sail. I must explore the sea. I'm ready to follow my dreams, give them all it takes, and most importantly, never, ever give up on them. I shout out loud to all you dreamers. Wake up folks! Wake up to your dreams, wake up to your family, your friends. Wake up to life before it's too late because as Paulo Coelho says, "Your dreams are waiting, but they won't wait forever."

HARRY POTTER AND THE CURSED CHILD by J. K. Rowling

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Picture Courtesy - pottermore.com

Harry Potter - the name itself is enough to send the minds of its readers into whole other magical world; a world of wands, spells, potions, dragons, elves, goblins, centaurs, talking portraits, and all things magical - a world called Hogwarts. The moment I picked up the book, I left this world and instantly got submerged into it. When I started with Act One of Part One, I was at King's Cross station with a grown-up Harry and his family. Gosh! I was excited. When Act Two took me to platform Nine and three-quarters, my joy knew no bounds. Yes! That's the child-like excitement a Potterhead has. But few more pages into the book, and I could feel the 'spell of excitement' to be less effective than its counterparts.

When I got over with 'The Cursed Child', I found it hard to pen down this review with my blindly-biased attitude towards Harry Potter. After reading seven absolutely flawless books, it was hard to grasp that this one indeed contained few flaws. I loved this book. With all my heart, I did, but I also did feel a tad bit disappointed for obvious reasons (which are, of course, personal). My first disappointment was its format. The 'play' format did give it a neat and crisp appearance, but it failed to match the magnanimity of its 'novel' counterparts. After reading the entire series with such precision, it ached to read a book of Potter series with hardly any Hogwarts in it.

There was no Quidditch match, no Hagrid, no house cup, no detentions, no drama in the classrooms - it lacked that typical 'Rowling' charm. But, Rowling did make sure that her fans aren't completely heartbroken and she embedded few unexpected stuffs which made it admirable.

- The first shock (or surprise) came to the readers when Albus got sorted in Slytherin. You cannot help but keep pondering over what compelled Sorting Hat to place Harry's son into Slytherin - the house to which some of the most dark wizards and witches belonged to. It is clear that Albus is taken aback and heartbroken. His worst fear came true. I loved the way this scenario was described.
"He puts his hat on ALBUS's head - and this time he seems to take longer - almost like he too is confused.
SLYTHERIN!
There's a silence.
A perfect, profound silence.
One that sits low, twists a bit and has damage within it."
No wonder poor Albus is 'thoroughly discombobulated'.

- The second striking and most soul-stirring part of the book was the friendship between Albus and Scorpius. Draco and Harry had always been at each others necks, ever-ready for a duel at every sight. Who could have ever imagined that their sons would share a bonding that's thicker than blood? On top of that, who could have ever imagined a Malfoy with a kind heart?

- I admit that it is hard to fancy a Malfoy with a kind nature, but to fancy the ever-smugging, full of Malfoy-vanity Draco being transformed into a soft-hearted person is next to impossible. Now that sounds like our Rowling who holds an expertise to turn impossible possible. Draco's softness in character was revealed when he confronted Harry saying, "I'm not here to antagonise you. But my son is in tears and I am his father and so I am here to ask why you would keep apart two good friends."
But, his sincerity and maturity surfaced during his confession to Harry when he said, "You - the three of you - you shone you know? You liked each other. You had fun. I envied you. I envied you those friendships more than anything else." All this time, one thought that it was only hatred that bred between the two whereas envy was the prime reason of rivalry. And of course there was Lucious Malfoy. Don't you think Lucious would rather had Draco dead than going around dancing merrily with the Dark Lord's biggest enemy?

- Delphini Diggory aka Delphi - now this dear young lady was the surprise package. The way she used friendship to torture those two kids was typical of Voldemort's daughter. Though some articles chalked her character to be rather lousy, one cannot undermine her importance. True that she was the least bit interesting as compared to either of her parent but the fact that the Dark Lord was her father and the malicious Bellatrix her mother is enough to kick adrenaline of a Potter-junkie. After all, she is among those characters who add essence to the book.

In addition to all these, the book itself worked as a Time-turner for die-hard Potter fans. It was a brand new feeling to see our favorite characters metamorphosed from fearless teenagers to responsible parents, from carefree Hogwarts students to alert wizards and witches. Further, it has the power to push fans into the comfortable feeling that Harry's story has not yet come to full-stop, and perhaps, it was this feeling that made me love it.

All things considered, it must be remembered that apart from J. K. Rowling, two more people had worked on its script. So, it is not entirely Rowling's work. Had it been so, I'm sure we would have had more fun out of it with lots of catchy words and well-crafted tricky sentences like "bunch of babbling, bumbling band of baboons."

COUNT DRACULA

Dracula by Bram Stoker

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


No matter how many times you read Bram Stoker's Dracula, few things in the book never gets old. Eerie, thrilling and adventurous - no wonder it is considered as Stoker's masterpiece. You cannot help but marvel at the very creation of such a wondrous book. The pompous yet hollow castle of Count Dracula in Transylvania, his hideous plans, and the brave fight of a band of God's men with the support of a gallant, intelligent woman simply awes the readers.

The most amazing thing is the way Mr. Stoker has connected the plots. From Jonathan Harker's journals to Van Helsing's memorandums, all the incidents are beautifully linked with one another. It is astounding how Stoker has minutely chiselled the details. Dracula's tremendous powers that he possessed during the night seemed to be absolutely mocking during the daytime when he used to be nothing but a waxen image. There are other paradoxical situations similar to this one that have been perfectly placed in the book.

For a reader who is a lover of classics, Bram Stoker's Dracula is a must read. You simply cannot miss out on this one. While reading the book, a reader needs to be attentive. You cannot afford to miss a single thing because if you fail to link the incidents, you will fail to enjoy the essence of this masterpiece. But, there is one question that continues to haunt me and that is how did Jonathan Harker manage to get out of the castle? :-P



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BON VOYAGE!!

Sails have been set. I have painted my ship green as for me it is nature’s colour which symbolizes freshness, life and ever-lasting growth. Where am I headed for? My ship is about to leave the shores of ignorance and is set for a journey on the sea of wisdom. I am on my way to explore one of the most interesting islands present on this sea called writing – the island of words. For some learned minds, writing simply is stringing words into meaningful sentences. Little do they know that it is an art that, just like any other art, envelops within itself a vast history responsible for its development.

From simple and majestic verses to intricate and magnificent novels, a myriad of incidents lies in between its transition. Style, tone, language and narrative techniques – the gradual development of writers in all these aspects not only captures the literary history, but also encloses the changes that our society (both eastern and western) has undergone from time to time.

My fanaticism, however, for venturing into this island has two very strong reasons. First, as a writer, I need to know and comprehend my limitations; the stumbling blocks that lay between my writing and me need to be kicked aside. Second, I need a one-word identity that defines me and for this, I cannot think of any other word than ‘writer’. God has been very kind to me as He has blessed me with a beautiful life, and I fail to come up with any other mode to manifest His wonders than the mode of writing.

Pen is mightier than the sword. This age-old adage of Edward Bulwer-Lytton stands true for any and every century. Hence, when I have been gifted the magic of writing, I feel it my utmost duty to use it through the wand called pen. My contributions may not turn out to be as significant as William Shakespeare, Rabindranath Tagore or of any great writer as for that matter. But, the fact that I possess at least some percent of their gift and my few contributions through prose will suffice my soul.

Apart from these two reasons, my hunger for knowledge has also acted as a compelling factor for setting me on this journey. Writing goes in conjunction with reading for the more you read, the more you learn. Books not only reveal facts of life, but also show the astounding, inventive power of the human mind. How else do you justify the popularity of J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter or T. R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings?

Having stated my reasons, I now feel it important to let know my readers that you all are my compass for this journey. The wind seems to be rough at present, but if you are willing to guide me through your critical appreciation, then I will always be able to find my way back. I now embark on my journey. Bon voyage to me and to my readers! J

STOP THE BLAME GAME

Millions of hearts were broken on 26^th of March when it became clear that India would not make it to the final of World Cup 2015. I am also included in that heart-broken crowd. After the match, I tried to calm down with help of books and songs but in vain. Finally, I called my father to elevate my mood and bingo! Within seconds, I was a different person. At that moment, however, I wished what he said to me could be heard by everyone, hence, creation of this post.

Ever since I have started watching cricket, I have witnessed extreme behaviors of Indians during India’s matches. This extreme behavior turned into absolute abnormality during World Cup tournaments. Whenever India lost a crucial match, newspaper editions of the next day featured incidents of people dying out of shock, people breaking their televisions and still others venting out their frustration on expensive crockery. Whoa!!

One such incident (without much damage though) took place in my own home during the 1999 World Cup. India lost a league match to Zimbabwe by three runs. That match was India’s ticket for making entry into the quarterfinals. India had three wickets and nine balls left to score those three crucial runs, but they couldn’t. When the last wicket fell, my father shouted and sat up with a jerk, and seconds after that I could see the cup and saucer (the nearest objects he could find) lying broken on the floor. Next day, he could not go to shop because of high fever. Newspapers and news channels were full of criticism on India’s lame performance.

When team India lost the semifinal to Australia, they knew something similar awaited them. I felt bad too, but that bad feeling was more because of judgments coming from my country people and less because of our defeat. I knew that the newspaper next day would be filled with statements on how our batsmen screwed our dreams, how Dhoni should have set a better fielding and of course, the poor shot played by great Virat.

However, when I told Papa about my wallowing, he started laughing. He answered calmly, “Your wallow is legitimate sweetie, but Australia is a strong team. It has robust players, a power-packed batting line-up, and most importantly, they are playing on their own ground. Unhi ke jagah mein unhi ko dadagiri dikha ke cup le aana halwa hai kya (is it a cakewalk to defeat them on their own ground and bring back the cup). Our team did their best. So cheer up and cheer them up.” He was so right.

So, here is my question to so-called die-hard Indian fans. After winning seven games in a row and defeating strong contenders like SA and WI, is it fair on our part to play the blame game? Be it Twitter or Facebook, not a single platform has been left for their criticism. Calm down folks! If you have the guts to sneer at other teams on India’s victory, then have the spirits to accept its defeat sportingly. Above all, stop the blame game. Why didn’t Kohli perform? Why didn’t Dhawan show some sensibility? Who asked Dhoni to take that single? Stop shooting questions.

Our team has landed on its soil after months. Act less like BCCI directors and behave more like cheerleaders. They have lost a match; they have not triggered apocalypse. Come on! I mean what slogan would we have for the next world cup if India won it this time - take it if you can? How lame! Now, I have already come up with an energetic punch line for 2019 World Cup – we will get it back. Spectacular, isn’t it? :-D

P.S. – A crucial reason for India’s defeat was the absence of Australian players’ non-gentlemanly banter on the field. I bet. Had Starc or Maxwell dared to crack jokes with Kohli or Dhoni, we would have fired our way into the finals. What say? ;-)

2015: WE READY FOR THE ROAD

2014 has become history. With the dawn of 2015, we now have another new book consisting of 365 pages. Though 23 pages have already become history, we still have 342 pages ahead of us. Isn’t it strange? Every morning the rising sun breathes a new life in us. It promises us a fresh start with renewed energy and refreshed hopes. But, it is only the eve of New Year that gives us a new, different kind of excitement. That different ‘excitement’ lies dormant all year and resurfaces only at the last day of that year – the only day when we contemplate its specialty. I, by the way, am not here to contemplate 2014.

I am here to welcome 2015 with open arms. I had to run a few rough roads in 2014, but I am not carrying forward grudges to 2015. Of all the lessons life taught me in 2014, the most important one was that ‘today is a gift’. The past cannot be changed (we still don’t have time machines), and the future is nothing but a thick fog. We know that the fog will lift up, no matter how dense it is, but what lies behind the fog is beyond our control. All we can do is comprehend the situation, act accordingly, learn our lessons and then move on. And that’s exactly what I plan to do this year.

From the very first day of 2015, I have stopped lamenting over my past and worrying about my future. Yes, I have had bad experiences; I had faced betrayals and I had quarreled. So what? I am a normal human being and I behaved humanly. If people have cheated on me, then they should feel guilty and be ashamed of it. Whenever my honesty and trust got shattered, I wept thinking that I was living my pain. So wrong I was because I was actually living the pain of people who were on the wrong side. I am done living others' pain.

Hence, in 2015, I have decided to liberate myself from regrets, pains and guilt. I have decided to free myself from clutches of society’s hypocrisy. I will accept myself unapologetically. I’ll laugh harder, cry louder, shout at the top of my voice, write till my fingers ache, sing my heart out, dance like no one’s watching me and live as if I’ll die tomorrow. At the end of each day, I wish to live just like the song of my favorite band OneRepublic:

I did it all

I owned every second that this world could give

I saw so many places, the things that I did

Yeah, with every broken bone

I swear I lived….

That's right! So many things to know, books to read, songs to listen, movies and series to watch, places to visit, cuisines to relish and only one life for everything – how unfair? I’ve already wasted enough time, but no more. So 2015, behold me! I am ready for the road. I will continue my journey towards my dream. It doesn’t matter if the road gets bumpy because I know that at some point of my journey, it will be smooth. During this journey, I’ll give my sweetest smile to life, and life will be compelled to smile back. Does it even dare to slap me, I’ll slap it harder. I am going to keep the confident, young woman inside me perfectly intact.

I wish all good (I mean truly good) persons an extremely joyous and prosperous new year. As for the bad ones, I would just say all the best because if you are not having a good time, then your karma is rounding up on you. So, try to be good and just from now on.