Posted in Finding Inspiration, Random

Why I am sad today

I am sad every day almost, I guess — okay mostly, not every day. But this is the ‘why I am sad today’ list. Some are things that I always worry about some are just blekh.


  1. I could not do yoga today, I know it is not a big deal but it might hamper my weight loss goal that I have set for myself.
  2. I am questioning my creative capabilities. I cannot remember one original idea I had or one meaningful from start to end thing that I wrote that I can be proud of.
  3. I am feeling very average — which is not a problem — but I am getting anxious about what will happen in the future.
  4. I realised I am 23, I do not know why I forgot and thought I am 22. I am actually 23 and a month now, so okay the confusion because of that. I am not sad because I am ageing but because I think time is running too fast and I am not doing enough.
  5. I realised that a lot of ideas and opinions of mine are very utopian, and I might have to deal with that.
  6. I also realised that in ‘real life’ people favour snooty people and not hard-working people always and how the world is unfair that way.
  7. I am sad because I realise that I am sounding so righteous in the above two points when I am just one of the dumb people operating in this world.
  8. I am sad because I do not know what is going to happen and whether I will be able to handle the things that WILL happen.
  9. I am sad because I am in a fix whether I should shift to some other city for better career prospects, or stay at home and wait another year and finish the things I decided — which I did not do last year.
  10. I am sad because I do not know who to ask for help, and I do not know what purpose does writing here solve.
  11. I am sad because I have started feeling that everything is meaningless.


Posted in Finding Inspiration

Finding Inspiration #4: How India can do without Japan’s bullet trains

I am sitting in front of my computer thinking of words to write…

I am hungry again. I just had two sandwiches, like an hour ago. When I get tensed, I eat a lot.

When I was in Class 10 and I was worried before my first board examination (simpler times) I could not eat anything.

This stuffing my face development is new.

Food has started giving me comfort that I cannot find in words — written or spoken. The crisp wafer or the oily French fry tells me everything that I want to hear in the moment without making any noise.

My mother on the other hand when she is worried about something (which is rare because she is so strong) does not eat anything or cannot eat anything.

If I had to have an eating disorder, why could it not be the one that helps me lose weight?

Needless to say I am worried. I am worried a lot these days. I hate my mind, always over analysing things to the point that makes me just want to pull my hair and scream and ask it to shut up. It is supposed to be my support system, but it is my worst enemy.

Right now too, my heart is beating very fast. Words do not come to me easily at such a time, and I start questioning the purpose of this whole exercise. If trains in India travelled as fast as my heart we would not need Japan’s bullet trains. However, the only thing that can match up to my heart is my mind, which surprisingly is never tired. Always running mad.

After making that allegation I was reminded of a lot of situations when my mind was completely blank. I know people say that it is a big thing, but it happens to me. For a long time I do not think about anything, it is quiet and peaceful and calm. Such moments are prized.

Recently, the longest I went without thinking anything was 2 hours or something. It was in Andamans. The staying blank was due to no credit of mine, just the beauty and placidness of that place. Someday I wish I am equipped enough to write a travelogue so that I can keep that experience safely for myself. I do not want to attempt it even, because I do not think I can do justice to what I saw. The massive ocean, and the knowledge that you are so very small in the entire mechanism of things. When we were in school, there was a line in a chapter in hindi — ‘Woh drishya toh dekhte hi banta tha’ — meaning that only when you see it do you get it and I thought that this is just a literary device, trying to induce mystery in beauty, but when I went to Andaman I realised that the writer had not put the sentence there because of literature but simply because she accepted the exquisiteness of nature.

One of the days in Andaman, we were in a car, on our way from point A to point B — with trees on either side, long unwinding undulating roads. Everywhere you look there is green. Nothing is brown. Even the barks are covered with moss. Rainforest. My first time in a rainforest. Green, green everywhere. Wherever there is a possibility of of growth, there is something.

A sapling, a twig, a creeper, a big tree, a small tree leaning on a big tree, a small plant growing on the small tree. Green. The only colour you see.

Quiet yes. But there is so much activity going on at that moment. If you are very very quiet I think you can hear a root digging deeper into the soil, or a creeper strengthening its hold on a branch, or just a shrub finding more space to grow.

It was so heartening to see that something or the other was growing out from even the cracks that had developed between the cemented portions of the road.

Which made me think, how much determined we must be to destroy the forests and the environment, because it is so powerful and stubborn itself to grow on everything that is capable of life. It grows, unabated taking everything in its fold, it does not care whether there is a sewer next to it or waterfall — unbiased, it spreads, until we step in.

Maybe someday we will understand that we cannot take nature for granted, when it will be too late, it is already too late. Maybe someday I will stop eating when I am tensed, or stop getting tensed all together. Maybe someday we will have trains that run as fast as my heart. Maybe someday I will understand my things are so unrelated in my mind, and why I cannot thread a thought together.

Until that day, I will wait and write stupid blog entries that make no sense…


Posted in Finding Inspiration, Midnight musings

I don’t want to be the blooper girl

I introduced an error in a newspaper report that went into print yesterday – which is a sin in print media. An editor is supposed to pick out the error not insert any. We had to issue a corrigendum. I am ashamed. I always take care while editing, even minute things that do not matter anymore. But I do, because like I have said multiple times I love my work. I always try to put in extra effort so that whatever I do is good for the paper and my self and yet it happened. It had to happen, when I was adding the line something went off in my brain but I ignored it, it had to happen because people usually re-read copies but somehow that point was missed. I am ashamed that it is my fault taht something like that has happened. I know, for everyone it’s like a normal day in the life of an editor and yes I agree. It’s not the end of the world. Tomorrow is a new day and people will forget about it might have already. But I cannot, it seems much more bigger to me. It is an indication that no matter how hard I try, I falter. Unknowingly. I get distracted or I miss something or I just don’t know. Why did it happen to me and not the other people at work who do not work as hard as me? Do I think too highly of myself. I have found, proof-read, polished errors in copies edited by other people before – did I think no one will be able to find in mine? I wanted that to be the case.  I have let down the people who thought I could do some work. Why I have come here instead of scribbling in my notebook is beside me. The tap tap of the keypad is a better distraction than the scratch scratch of the pen in the middle of the night. I did not want answers I wanted to vent and find the strength maybe to go to work again tomorrow. I know it’s not a big deal but I don’t want to be scared of making mistakes. If I am then this will be the last mistake I will ever make and most probably the last time I learn anything. But I don’t want to be the blooper girl. I don’t want my life to be riddled with mistakes. I don’t want my career in journalism to become like my life – vague and plain.  I want it to go where I want it to be. More than often I feel that right now I am just flailing my arms in the ocean. I want to stop swimming and I know if I do I will drown but I don’t wanna drown. And I feel like I am just about to drown every week. 

And I don’t wanna drown. But most importantly I don’t want to be ‘the blooper girl’. 

Posted in Finding Inspiration

How to be a grown up 101

I have been very worried by the train of thought in my head which has been annoyingly similar for the last one year.

I try to push it away, but nothing has happened. Whatever I am saying right now is also very similar to what I have said multiple times before..  I am stuck in my own mind, the same things rattle my brain, making me anxious, it’s a vicious cycle. It has taken all creativity out of me. I think about only one thing and can write about only one thing the confusion in my brain. It isn’t constant, it comes in waves. You’re relaxed you have a good day, but everything that can possibly go wrong in the universe rushes through your mind, are you doing the right thing? Is everything fine? What will happen after 10 years?

I don’t know. When I was in 10th class I thought in the next 4 years I would have everything figured out. Everything. I always thought myself to be very smart. I am smart, you know, reading wise, understanding things easily learning new stuff and all that. Smart. Normal. Average. Not brilliant.

But, I have found something about myself which I think has contributed to my confusion in the present day. I was very naive as a child. I still am a different kind. But earlier I don’t think I had any sense of reality my life was me and my smartness and how things will be fine for me due to the same smartness. I am not talking about innocence. My sister as a child as well could always differentiate between reality and fanfare. Why could not I ? Why can’t I still?

For me now the definition of growing up is only one thing. When you know what you want, and you’re happy with your choice. I have seen so many grown-ups who have chosen what they want out of life which may or may not be fancy enough for us ‘millenials’ I hate the term. But they are happy with it, they care about themselves and lead a fulfilling life. And I have met many people pretending to be grown-ups who are never happy with what the have.

It all comes back to perfecting the self and everything?

For most parts I believe I know what I want and what I value, simplicity over bling, small over big, cotton over leather and other little things here and there. My choices are nothing great, or better than anyone. They are mine. Simple. Normal. Average.

And I think good I know what I want, and then the conflict arises, because I don’t know how I want what I want. There are various clauses and subclauses involved in the entire wanting of things. It’s not a simple want. It’s not always cotton over leather, some days it’s leather over cotton but then since I plan my entire life around cotton – I miss out on the chances of leather,or so I believe.

And again after one year, I am as far away from being a grown-up as I was last year. I.

I am in a hurry yes, anything to quiten the storm in my head.


Posted in Finding Inspiration

Finding Inspiration 2017 edition

I am sitting in front of my computer looking for words to write. Just before I started typing these words I somewhat knew what I would write about, the killing, the war, the refugee crises, the hatred in our world. I also knew that my inexperience will stop me from making an educated argument, but I wanted to attempt either way. Spending an entire day only surrounded by chunky, intelligent opinions, you can’t help but have your own very particular set of options that you want to share with everyone who ever wants to listen that is. But then I have a problem of being too shy? Or too scared to say something to discuss something with people. 1. Like I said I think I am not experienced enough to make a very strong point, I am still reading and knowing better and 2. I don’t want to offend anyone. So I stay quiet at times writhing within myself when people are talking with each other about something I want to talk about too. They do not care whether they are less informed they speak their mind, something not quiet enviable, but somewhat a strength.

I wonder what will they say, and then in my mind I say I don’t care what people say, but I do. I do so I don’t want to say something uneducated, because I do not want to add to the noise. I am passionate about a lot of issues and it saddens me that I cannot express my views and stand in support of what I feel is correct. So I read, and I read and then I read some more so that someday I will speak things which are correct, fact-based and important, I will get there someday, slowly if only, but until then I will sit in front of my computer and look for words to write….

Posted in Finding Inspiration, Random

I love trees

Trees, green leafy trees, tall trees, short trees, fruit-bearing trees, flowering trees, trees, trees, trees everywhere trees is what I have grown up with.  I love trees. When I look at them I feel happy. When I sit under them I feel safe. When I look at how tall they are I feel amazed. I love trees. I have said this multiple times I will say it again. Any place is 100 times more beautiful with trees around.

Gulmohar trees are my favourite. 1. Because they are so huge — they are tall and their branches are spread out wide. 2. Their flowers are red. 3. During fall, the entire ground beneath them is covered with red flowers every day. 4. With the big branches you can sit under its shade and watch the time pass by.

Every tree is beautiful for a different reason. In my school, there was a banayan tree which was huge, its shade was a place for all of us to rest, it was sort of a landmark, friends in the break time met there. My mother when she would come to pick us up would ask us to wait under the tree.

A palm tree hidden somewhere between the thick roots of the tree had grown with the banayan tree. From a distance you could see the palm tree cutting through the dense leaves over the banayan. I cannot draw as pretty a picture; I wish I had a photo of it. There were many stories around that tree; how one of the trees in previous life was a sinner and they had wronged the other tree so in the next life they had to live dependent on the other one. I am assuming the palm tree was the sinner.

Other than this ethically wrong tree, I remember many other trees that I have lived with in my life. The first tree I planted was guava, for lack of any better name I called it Amrudu (guava is known as amrud in Hindi). Every day few minutes I would dedicat to watering amrudu. I looked after it for as long as we stayed in the house. Now, it must be around 14 years. It is funny how if I ever go back I will never be able to identify it. I remember it so fondly, as it was the first tree I ever planted. I remember planting many trees as I would throw seeds in the mud hoping they will sprout since I had learnt that seeds turn to trees. Sadly, none of them ever grew up, making amrudu my first.

Now, for the first time, we are living in a house which has very less trees around us. We are trying to compensate by planting creepers and small bushes and lots of grass, and big ferns. We will also plant trees. On deciding which ones I had tough time figuring out my top 5 choices. Gulmohar of course is the uncontested winner. Then there is amaltas — another flowering tree, beautiful yellow flowers, there is also the Jacaranda tree, again beautiful purple colour, every fall the purple flowers create a blanket on the grass. Absolute delight. Guava trees — small plus they bear fruit every winter. Mango trees, main reason mango and the other reason the shape and the smell of it. I wanted to add pomegranate too because it has very beautiful flowers before the fruit goes out, but neem tree had to take precedence over pomegranate.

There is another tree, nice leaves in shape of flowers, deciduous plant, name I do not know and could never find out. Since I did not know the name, it had to be out of the list.

Few days ago, some people cut a tree near our house. It was no special tree but it was a sad thing to watch, sadder because it was not harming anyone. Someone said that it had grown old and could “fall” anytime; silly excuse and the intelligent minds decided that it should not be there and the next day it was not. I could not do anything, because by the time I found out it was already dead. Now, I think that I could have done nothing also, what would I have said?

Today I came across an article about the Ken-Betwa project. It listed the ecological disasters very easily something that people have been saying for the longest time.

My rant on one corner of the internet will not do anything I know. I have already accepted myself to be very weak in this strong world and even if I wanted to do anything this is not the way to go about it.

But, there are people who make sense when they talk, speaking about it giving arguments yet everything is happening and it will happen and we would be left watching things be destroyed around us.

I wanted to write a lot of things about the actual environmental hazard that we are all heading towards but I do not want to because there are better people talking about it.

All I want to say, is that I love trees and any place is 100 times more beautiful with trees around.





Posted in Finding Inspiration, Midnight musings, Random

Where are the touch me not plants?

When I was around 4 or 5 my family was living in Betul, a very small town in Madhya Pradesh. Major chunk of my day was spent outdoors, climbing trees, fighting with my sister, plucking flowers, dirtying my feet in the mud and touching the touch-me-not plant. My parents always told me that trees are living beings— but they never made any movements or did anything that living beings do, I was always confused.

My sister also would tell me not to disturb the trees at night as they were sleeping. I found it very hard to believe that those beautiful green leafy tall things were not “lifeless”. The touch-me-nots were the only ones who gave any proof of life to me and as a child it was one of the most fascinating things for me. I think  it still is.

We had a huge row of the “chuimui” plants in our house and one of my favourite pass times was to be around them run my hands over them, watch the leaves come together and then wait for them expectantly to open again only to repeat the process all over again.

My mother saw this opportunity to teach me about stimulus and plant world but I could not care about what she had to say. I let her fill the silence as I waited for the leaves to open.

As I grew old and we changed cities I never came across the plant again. It has been 18 years or so.

I know it’s a weird fascination – to bother a plant. But it is one of the most beautiful things of my life. Some thing getting back to its “normal” state all by itself even after being made to do the exact opposite multiple times. No matter how many time you touch the leaves, they open up again, never stopping for once. I know all of this have a scientific explanation backing it.

But, somehow the whole thought around it is very comforting, especially now when I think I have  become like a touch-me-not plant.

Shutting myself, everything out as soon as something slightly uncomfortable happens in my surrounding, something if a thought is discomforting, everything around me closes, I try to hide from the world, myself.

Unlike the touch-me-not I  cannot find the strength to open up again ready to face the other “touch” or push coming my way.

Today after so many years I want to be around a touch-me-not again because I want to see for myself whether it is possible for anyone/anything to go move on, stand up, normalise even after being trouble over and over again. I want to see that there exists a phenomenon like this somewhere, no matter how small or inconsequential it maybe….