My last post as a 15 year old crackpot :D

15 more days. 15 MORE days. 15 more DAYS. 

It gets better every time I say it. Yay!! I'm gonna be Sixteen in, what, 15 more days!! Haha :D I am so excited! My mom doesn't see why. She says it's the same every year. You just grow older. And this time, for once, I won't even be chilling. I am going to be studying for my boards! >_< I know, right? It's still exciting! :D I'm just this hyper every year. I can't wait to reach 40 and see if this enthusiasm lasts.

It's been a cake of a year! So tasty but makes you fat, at the same time. :P 

I've grown. I've learnt. I have broken bonds. I have things to accept. But, I also have something to look forward to and a lot of sweet memories, a million stories to tell! I am gonna have to mould, again. New place, new people and godknowswhatelse. However, I'm sure it's for the greater good.

It feels like the end of an era or something. Tenth is getting over. And things are now going to change. I won't be as close to the people I have been for so many years. I might not even sit on the same benches and try not to doze off to sleep. I'm never gonna crib about my school. And nobody's ever going to look at me and remind me how much time I have left for my boards. I never thought I would talk like this but I am doing so. I actually might just miss these crappy school years. 

Wow. My farewell is done. And I am never again going to see the same 200 people at one place, like I have been doing for the past 8 years. This feels unacceptable. But, alas, I have no choice but to swim along with the waves. 

People still have school like after 10th, don't they? But, somehow, I feel it's never the same. I'm assuming, of course. 

Our generation is going to one lucky generation, though. So many years down the line, and we might still be aware of the whereabouts and happenings of some of our friends' lives. 

I don't know. It just feels so devastating but exciting at the same time. I could dieeeeeee :P

OkayByeeeeee. 

Now I'll write once I am done being Fifteen. I hope to get more crack-headed by then. ^_^

Normal was never the New Black

                                                      

''Excuse me? Can I fit in? is what she mentally asks as she pushes her way in between the two of them and sits there gaping. Trying to find a perfect word to utter. It's still awkward there. Even today, after a passage of so many months she still feels the unfamiliar breeze when she sits between them. It's as if she could never be one of them. Always in their own world, they probably never considered her a part of it. And she. She always tried so hard to fit in amongst these people. Friends. She wouldn't even bother being discreet anymore.
What a shame.
She'd always tried so hard, thinking she could make a change in the cycle. But somehow, they never reciprocated. Not the way she expected them to.

There used to be days when she would go home and cry to sleep. Or just walk away before she would dissolve into tears. But today, it was better and she could cry tears of pride.''

Fitting in. I hate the whole concept to the face of it. I am sure we weren't born to fit in!! We were born to be ourselves. To let our wings out and fly in the open, discovering beyond daily horizons, grasping before it slips and letting go for what's awaiting.
But, hey that sounds so much cooler than it is in reality. In reel life, it's a dream. A dream that reaches us wide awake and doesn't gawk at us. In reel life it has a meaning of it's own, a meaning that reaches all hearts and fixes itself in every brain, endowing them with a whole lot of positive energy. But when we are smacked open to the caressing morning warmth, stepping into our daily routine brings about the some thoughts and explosives we cannot change. When we're here, we're here to be like them. Moreover, to be a part of them.
None of us have been a fan of fitting in. Yet, for some it seems to flow in their blood and for some it's an ache.
It's always about trying to fit in. Fitting in your jeans. Fitting in the list of the top 10 scholars. Fitting in the last piece of puzzle. Fitting your clothes in one suitcase. Fitting in last year's dress. Fitting in as a cool kid. Fitting in with the boozers. Fitting in while talking. Fitting in with clothes. Fitting in the right shoe size. Fitting the right cap on the bottle. Finding the right haircut to fit in. Fitting, fitting, fitting!
What’s funnier is how through the whole process of fitting in we hurt others and sometimes ourselves.
       We want to be 'normal'. Whatever that is. The oxford dictionary says, ''conforming to a standard; usual, typical, or expected.''
We'll try to be how everyone in our family has been. We'll try to be how are friends are. We'll try to be how the world is and what it expects of us. We'll go with the flow. And that's pathetic. PATHETIC.
And I think it sucks. Sucks for those who are trying so hard and nobody ever sees it.

But I think it's an indication. It's the God's horses screaming to us. We will all try to fit in, because you know what, it doesn't work that way. One can't be born to swim against the water. It's something we learn. The aeroplane is built to take off against the wind.

Similarly, if you're pushing too hard, it's probably time you realise that this isn't what you're meant for. You're meant to be outstanding. And it's time to let go now. 
Fitting in is not the ultimatum. Because if it was, then Cindrella's shoe wouldn't fall off. 

Chasing

                                    

She was sniffing the coolness in the air, with the cigarette in her hand. Was it even possible to sniff the coolness in the air. She was smoking, for god's sake! Forget it. She told herself. This habit is not washing off too quickly. She's scratched the most delicate part of her senses and there's no way she can bring back the polish again. No way. At all. Her legs idly moving in constant rhythm to each other.

    One more puff, and out again.

Yes, it has become a daily thing. Could she not retreat. She was repulsed   by herself. By this version of herself that she'd become. The one that didn't even exist. But, it did. It did exist. She looked down at her own hands. They looked pretty once upon a time.. But why didn't they now? To an ordinary person they still would, maybe. But to her, they had been scarred. Scarred with unfathomable days and months that had brought her here. She was sore from inside. And no book was to help her escape this. No night's high could make her omit the feelings for a lifetime.

And yet she had such conversations daily. Such moments of self-realisation where she sought to find a way to pull her put of this numb guilt. And when she was almost there, she would be pushed back to square one just like all the other times because that coward within her would shriek, ''You fell down while climbing the mountain once, how will you climb back up again with the wounds still fresh?''.

She was moving around, floating to lands wherever, sometimes in her dreams. And it was beauty. Absolute perfection. Here, she saw everything with different eyes. Eyes that were not rotting from her heart. Heart? It's a body organ. Its work is to pump blood. Yeah, she's a science kid. Still, she would creep into the church sometimes and confess. Because it would lighten her heart.

She coughed. Lighten the heart? If only there was a theory proving that no such equation existed.

Today she was going to try harder. She was going to fight with herself. Why today? She doesn't know. She never will. Ripping through the covers that instilled darkness in her bubble, she dropped the cigarette stub. And looked behind at the door. The door she was going to swing open and fall, if that's what it would cost to reach out and stand under the sun. Too much had been charred away. Too much.

We all have habits we would rather not. It's about taking that 'rather not' and respecting it. If that's how you feel, then don't let the otherwise overwhelm you.

My Visit to NDA xD

I'm extremely proud to say, that today, on 25th November 2012 I visited the National Defence Academy of Pune, located near Khadakwasla and witnessed the final rehearsal of the Passing out Parade. And it was definitely an honour. It was exciting and still is, but that's probably because it is the most prestigious thing I have ever witnessed in the 15 years of my living! :D
The NDA is a joint-forces academy. Here the cadets of the Air-force, the Navy and the Army, all three are trained before they take up their next step.
I have to say, it was by far the most mind-blowinng thing I have seen!! The parades that we see on TV on 26th January and 15th August are cool but seeing the march past live is cooler! The men parading, looked like men. Like real, sturdy men! Gives me a proud feeling, I guess. They were so disciplined. I think, people like us who cannot survive a month without going and smelling the air-conditioned air of the mall will have some pretty tough time surviving a life where you have to be marching even while you're just walking around. o.O
'Walking' reminds me of their parade. What synchronisation! :O They looked like statues. Like living machinery moving their feet to the beat of the other's feet! And their hands, swinging to the rythm looked like wheels of a train emitting LED white light (white gloves). Commanding them was, I think, an alumnus. And OH MY GOD, he was screaming till his throat went sore and still: the perfection! I think we don't work half as hard as they do. Keeping aside the fact, that everyone does their own share of hardwork within their own caliber and comparisons don't really occupy a space.
The place was beautiful. Fresh air and lush, green trees! There was a huge library and green-house. It's just their own little world, which in reality touches the boundaries. Literally.
It might sound ordinary, but it wasn't. Rather exciting and different. I can't even make it sound how it was worth the sacrifice of sleep.
I wish I had taken my camera though. Could have captured something?
I am just fascinated.

Believe what you know, not what you're told.

“As long as you have life and breath, believe. Believe for those who cannot. Believe even if you have stopped believing. Believe for the sake of the dead, for love, to keep your heart beating, believe. Never give up, never despair, let no mystery confound you into the conclusion that mystery cannot be yours.” ― Mark Helprin, A Soldier of the Great War.

BELIEF. A magical thing one possesses.
Millions of us walking on the street, with a billion different thoughts jittering up in our heads, a thousand different hearts pounding, yet we all believe. Consciously or sub-consciously, we all are habitual of keeping faith in something. How else would superstitions exist? Happy endings, light at the end of the tunnel, hard work paying off, natural healing, time healing up all wounds, or God himself. The list has a countless number of things! Yet there's one thing we all, in particular, have been taught to never eradicate from our mind, heart and soul. The one thing that has given rise to the Satan, parallely. GOD. So, a very common question: Does he exist? If yes, then why do we always only refer to him as 'he' or the 'almighty'? These are questions that buzz around one's head so very often that eventually we learn to ignore it, talking ourselves into believing that there exist no answers. We blind ourselves to the one very important question which can help us walk on the path of becoming a better person from the current path we're on, where all we do is sniff like a dog and move towards it, simply adhering to what we have been obliged to do. So I wanted answers, not to pen them down or anything but to clear that part of my head which was occupied by this dubiousness. I wouldn't say I went to an isolated room, dressed up like a comical scientist and sat there for days mulling over my thoughts, trying to dig up answers for my peace of mind. It was there, of course, but at the back of my mind, trailing around, WAITING.
Well, I don't know how it happened. Ask anybody who EVER discovered anything, he'll never be able to inform you about exactly how and when it struck him. Similarly, IT JUST HAPPENED. Everyone could have different explanations, but as long as they help them suffice all those explanations are right! Because of the sudden strike of lightening that hit my head I think a lot of my doubts and confusion about believing in God and not believing have pretty much been settled up there. So here's the thing.
I really don't think God exists. Don't get judgmental here, I'm clearly not an atheist. I just think God is something we cling to. 
In the words of John Buchan, "An atheist is a man who has no invisible means of support." God is like an invisible support to man. All those idols of Krishna and Ram, well they are still scientifically trying to prove their existence, right? They could have been real, God could have been a person but to me he is not. Although, (I know this will sound really contradicting) when I think of God I always picture Lord Krishna yet I think God is more of a feeling. You know, like something to push you back up when you trip and fall. Something to give us answers for when we're out of them. Humans are flawed, not perfect. We won't always have the answers now, will we? Hence, in situations like these when we don't know what to expect we turn to him.

Because being clueless feels a tiny bit better when you know that someone up there knows what you don't.

Fear is Overwhelming

''I don't like this feeling.

It feels like I'm sinking into the earth.

I'm pushing my feet so hard against the ground, exhausting myself to bits but in vain because the more I try, the more I grow distant from the sky and merge into the darkness.

All these papers and books are just lying there, sucking my soul, penetrating through my eyes into the tiny corners of my brain, making every part go insane with frustration. 

Those numbers, they won't dance around, but just sit there, making whatsoever no sense to me. Probably avenging me for some deed. KARMA.

 And tears, of course. How can they not be present at such an occasion.''

Nothing child-like

I am writing after such a long time. Blame tenth grade and its hectic schedule for that.

So, an incident narrated by my friend to me inspired this post. And when I thought about it, it actually brought a lot of things to my mind. Everyone knows what puppy love is, or infatuation. One and the same. So well, it's kind of an inappropriate thing for people to start dating from a very young age, that's what they say, right? Since it sometimes affects your studies and gives you a lot of emotional issues to cope up with. When I was mentally comparing a marriage and dating at a young age, I came up with a very important point. Okay, they say that dating at a young age is a very naive and child-like thing to do, in fact we get into such complications because we are not enough mature to realise what is good for us and what is not. But think of it this way, in India, a country said to have unity in diversity faces so many religion-based conflicts. Directly or indirectly it affects our lives, of course. Marriages are done following caste system. People keep a track of matrimonials regularly hoping to find someone with a suitable religious background. ''I am hindu, and if you are muslim, then there is noway we can have a future together, even if I would genuinely like to.'', that's the kind of thing I'm talking about. But that is so unfair. What if you are more compatible with someone who is not of your religion. Not necessarily 'love' but simply who you are more comfortable with. Now getting back to dating, when you are friends, you are friends because you adore the person and have fun with them. You date them because they are simply nice to hang out with. You don't disown anyone because he is a muslim or any other religion. You don't think of your parents' approval while dating someone, right? Maybe that's because it's not that serious. But nevertheless, I fail to see the point behind calling a puppy love as a symbol of child-like behavior and immaturity. I mean, if you distinguish people on the basis of their caste and religion it is you who is behaving child-like. I'm not taking sides, but yes, commenting on someone's religion is presumptuous behavior.

However, it's our Indian thinking and someday we will get over it, but till then passing snarky comments like 'why a muslim?' is not going to do any good. 

A DOSE of books? No.

When you enter a library or a bookstore, there's always a huge section of ''Self-help Books''. With the number of books piled up it's plain evident how many people are into reading self-help books. Once a person gets over the fiction phase they do turn to explore the self-help area, too. When I was young, not very young but let's just say about 2-3 years ago, I thought self help books were medication. I thought that one could just pick up a book about being happy, read it, memorise the steps and then be happy for the rest of his life. Okay, now I feel silly thinking about it. But that's alright, I guess. They just sound like that. I mean, you know how they show in movies that when you go to a psychologist who is expensive he gives you a book as the first step! So that just planted various ideas in my mind and I joined the dots. But then think about it. Reading a book can't solve your problems just like praying to God a day before your result won't solve your problems either! So, continuing the example of my pea-brain-on-work, driven by the craze of watching my dad read such books, once in a bookstore, I picked up 'Eat Pray Love' by Elizabeth Gilbert. It's not exactly a self help book but it follows the same footsteps, somewhat. So I read the back cover, and Oh. My. God. I was awe-inspired. I mean, it seemed wonderful. A woman discovering herself and all. So fascinating! I bought the book, obviously. I was ecstatic. So I opened the book, and the most hilarious thing happened, I closed it and it went back on my bookshelf in the next 5 days. The reason being, I GOT BORED. And never again did I touch that book. Never. I felt doomed in the field of literature. I felt like I was incapable of understanding the deep essence of life and the way out of the maze which was printed in the book. I felt like if I ever landed in a real problem ahead in life I would never be able to sort it out and eventually lose all hope. Why, because I could not decipher a self-help book.
A week ago, though I went back to that book. I wouldn't say why because it's not relevant here. I just opened it and read the first chapter with a light thought of wanting to READ the book, not to sort out any problem but to simply read whatever was present. And  I did, and this time, it's not boring. In fact, I am finally getting my concept cleared about what self-help books really are. They are not a bunch of solutions to math problems that help you unravel the spiral of your confusion and deranged life. They are just books that explain. They simply make you understand. The book that I wrote today, how the hell can it really solve your problem? I am not from 'Phil of the Future', am I? So when you read these books you basically just read the basic. It's like learning 2+2=4 all over again, except that this time you will learn it as (1+1)+(1+1)=4. That simple. When I read 'Eat Pray Love', it's not like all my worries got sorted and suddenly I was aware of the map of my life lying right across the table ready to be unmasked. While reading the book, I learnt the basics of everything. Because all of us, if we can breathe the same air, drink the same water, function with the help of same body parts, then we can also learn the same lessons, right? Doesn't mean that what I read today in that book has to help me today. It might help me later or maybe never. But it will always add a drop in the ocean.

What we all seek!

What's happiness?
Happiness lies in the eyes of the beholder. Happiness isn't something that we face all the time. It is not a hard-rock-never-changing emotion. It is something that is present in all the little things.
What is happiness for me?
It's when I get those 500 bucks in the starting of every month. It's when my brother and I laugh our ass out. It's when my dad gets me clothes of his choice. It's when my mom talks to me about her day. It's when someone tells me they love me and I know they mean it. It's when I realise the truth behind someone's lie. It's when I get wet in the first monsoon rain. It's when someone who drifted apart smiles at me. It's when I eat chocolate after a looooong time. It's when my dad talks of me with pride. It's when I lie down next to my parents. It's when I get something I have been longing too. It's when I finish a heart-melting book. It's when someone hugs me tight just when I need it. It's when someone assures me that they won't leave me no matter how alone I think I am. It's when my bestfriend tells me she loves how I am. It's when someone comes and says they missed me. It's when someone says sorrry to make me feel better. It's when I get new clothes. It's when I watch a romantic movie. It's when I finish a jaw-dropping Tom Cruise movie. It's when I day-dream and escape to a whole new fantasy. It's when someone compliments me that I am tall. :P It's when I scream with joy. It's when I watch someone make an effort for me. It's when I have coffee in pouring rain.  It's when my brother promises to keep my secret. It's when my dad makes me laugh. It's when I watch two dogs play. It's when I watch two bestfriends unite because of me. It's when someone just looks at my face and asks me what happened. It's when someone yells at me for my mistake. It's when I look at a people and memories come back fluttering. It's when I re-read my old diaries. It's when I look at my mom and remember how she loves me without any demands or expectations. She loves me just for me. It's when I put on my favorite jacket. It's when I run and scream to someone. It's when I am uber excited for someone else's achievement. It's when I look at myself in the mirror and feel strong. It's when I do good for someone who has been terrible to me in the past. It's when I am laughing. It's when I feel the butterflies every single time and don't get bored. It's when I blush. It's when I get a Math sum! It's when I write something nostalgic. It's when I listen to 'Dance Again' by JLo and start to smile. It's when I figure something out after a lot of confusion..
And this list is so never going to end. Happines is just something that we find in small packages. It's every flower that counts not necessarily the whole bouquet.

''I think I'll like that.'' ''What if you don't?''

Sometimes when a change occurs around you, you won't really be the first one to discover it. Unless you really sit to scrutinise the tinniest of details, there won't be any noticing. Change. They say it's the only permanent thing in life. It's that one thing you can be sure of. It's the one thing that cannot be predicted.
But it is capable of causing the greatest of devastation and sometimes it creates magic. Whichever you get, it's your luck. Sometimes you desperately are in a need of a change. It's the only thing you want and you don't know how you're going to achieve it. It seems like eternity waiting for what you want to happen. And the one day, lightening strikes, there's thunder, gravity reverses, the sun rises from the west and YES, that's when you know things are changing. You look at yourself in the mirror and smile but you can't. You try again, and another failure. This continues until you realise the reason. It IS the change you wanted, but it just is NOT what you want anymore. You shuffle through old papers and juggle through your pea-brain, reconfirming that it's what you wanted. Affirmation. Yet, what is the problem? And then the it hits you, just like someone punched you in the face to help you look better. Clearer. You look around and realise that you really did always want it but you never thought it would be this way. A-Z it's exactly what you wanted but you don't like it one bit. Because, all that time while you thought you were living each day in hell-on-earth you had grown yourself to adjust to it. Human nature. You never realised how much fun you had in what you allegedly claimed to be 'hell'. Because now you realise that life is not a box of sweet smelling flowers. It is only an empty box and it's your job to fill it up. But you still can't smile. Because now it feels even worse to know that you got exactly what you wanted but you don't want it anymore. In fact, you never wanted it. You just thought that you did. Sometimes, the hardest part is accepting the change. And now you know that.