Posted in Midnight musings, Random

I wish we were all vampires

Nothing to do with twilight series here, but yes the vampire-ness I am talking about is inspired from the vampire species in that series.

I wish we were all vampires. Weird statement, yes, but I have my reasons:-

1. One of the biggest reason is immortality. You never have to worry about anyone dying. For someone who is prone to anxiety the thought of death can send the heart racing at the maximum speed possible. And not one’s own death but death of a loved one. So once everyone is a vampire, this worry ends. (I know the entire problem of what will everyone eat if all of us were vampires and the issue of sustainable development and what not but if we are wishing, then we can wish anything)

2. Speed. Travelling takes a lot of time. If you’re from India you’d know that it takes even more longer. Distance itself is a hassle. If everyone was a vampire we’d just run to any place we wanted to be. Imagine never having to pay for travel again.

3. No sleep. You don’t have to sleep you’ll get so much done. There’ll be more to see and more to be done.

4. No heart. No elevated heart rates. No anxiety I guess.

When I started writing this I thought I had a long list of reasons but I have run out of them at 4. If I manage to find more I will add and hope we were all vampires. (only the kind of version I want)

Posted in Random

One day

One day. 24 hours. 1440 minutes. 86400 seconds. Lot of time. I spent 5 minutes of my 1440 minutes watching a quick fix recipe video for cauliflower baked bites. 1. I am not very fond of cauliflower 2. I will never make those nakrd bites ever in my life. Even after knowing both the above things I watched all 4 variations of the recipe. I don’t know why I could not stop myself. The ager that I spent. 30 seconds of my 86400 seconds trying to find more recipe videos so that I can watch something that is visually appealing after being left unappitised by the cauliflower bites. After find them another 20 minutes went into the same.

Had I not watched those 5 minutes of the early recipy I would have saved 5 mins + 30 seconds + 20 mins = 25 minutes 30 seconds. Rounding it off to 26 minutes.

26 minutes out of my s 1.8 per cent of my day. Rounding it off to 2 per cent. So 2 per cent of my day I wasted in doing something I didn’t want to in the first place. One can say that 2 percent in a day but 26 minutes in the entire lifetimes hardly matters and I agree. Buy these other 26 minutes in different slots that I keep wasting on people, places and things what do I do about that? Nothing. They’ve gone, slipped away.

I am mathematically unable to calculate how much part of my life has escaped without my knowledge and how much more will. I don’t know.

Posted in Random

I don’t know

I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know why  the phrase “I don’t know” has become an inseparable part of my vocabulary. I want to be like those people who are so pumped up about things, who are happy, who are not scared to take risks and the positive people — the people who don’t “don’t know”.

These “knowing” people — you just know them, they can be very easily identified from a distance, they do not have a scowl on their face, they are not double checking their belongings, they do not hide behind their phones, they will talk to you, they do not fumble, they also are happy or they are immensely strong to remain happy in the face of all the problems on them.

I want to be like that. I don’t know (here it comes again) but I think I was somewhat like that, not exactly but somewhat. My default expression was never a smile and I always had trouble speaking to other people (so much so that I would think 10 times before asking the teacher whether I could go to the washroom) but I had the pleasantness and ease. I, I, I another word that has found a permanent place in my narrative these days. I do not want that, I do not know why is that the case.

I also complain a lot these days, there were times when I would very easily defend my argument with words like “realism” but now I know that it is and was plain cynicism. I hate everything now a days. It is annoying to the point of torture. I hate the people who are happy every time, the ones I mentioned above who I want  to be like, I want to shake them and ask them what is wrong with you has life not happened to you yet, what are you, why are you like this? Be sad. I know that I sound ridiculous but it is extremely off putting — excuse me please do not be nice to me, no I do not want to talk to you and let you know my troubles. It is so refreshing seeing someone as miserable. There is this editor I wish I can be like in around 8 years or so and I saw him talking about despair and sadness in the socially acceptable humorous ways and that was the only thing that was uplifting for me this entire week. Only thing — again a very horrid thing, but what can you do?

But, that is the reason that I do not know. I do not know what is gotten into me, why am I such a person now, why is there so much confusion, I hate the fact that I am becoming one of those people that come and write something nonsensical on the internet when they are feeling uneasy and are never the ones to share a positive comment. I hate that rather than being inspired by the nice people I hate them, I hate when they have happy things to share, my mother always said happiness spreads by sharing and you should always take part in other people’s happiness but I cannot. I hate the fact that that I talk about myself so much that I have a blog about myself in which I talk no sense, I only talk about “I”. I hate the fact that on days like this I have nothing important to do than fret over my muddled brain. I hate the fact that I do not know why all of this is happening, is it hormones? Is my brain getting damaged? Am I being over dramatic? Or what kind of nonsense is this? I hate the fact that I don’t see any point of blogging anymore, earlier it was an outlet to my stories, sometimes real sometimes imaginary, now it is my rant machine. I hate the fact that it is so. I hate that fact that I do not know why this is so.  I hate the fact that I don’t know so much. I hate the fact that I don’t know. I don’t know.

Posted in Midnight musings, Random

Sleepless nights #1

I don’t know what it is that keeps a person sane in this ever so maddening world. You wake up one day to realise that everything you believe in has been smashed to smithereens and you had been soundly asleep by then. Everyone expects you to “grow up” about it. Like nothing happened.

I and many others hate the word growing up. Why? What is happening. Why can’t we actually just grow up. I remember my 10th birthday. Getting a double digit in my age was an exciting experience. Growing up was exciting. There were dreams about growing up, taking up a job, living alone, surviving alone, maybe marrying someone you love. Going to holidays, laughing loudly making memories.

When did these simple things become too much too ask. Was an entire generation fed lies while growing up, why is there so much dissatisfaction.

Why have people, people you called/considered friends become evil. Why in a world with unlimited connectivity, there are more misunderstanding?

I want to know just where did I or everyone else who can relate to me go wrong. Why is it that we are facing trouble just being. Merely existing is such a big task, and no the answer to this inst death because I want to know what did I do wrong that I do not have the right to the life I wanted. Even after having almost everything why is there the crippling self-doubt always my only true friend.

Which brings me to the question where are my friends? Who are my friends? We were supposed to be each other’s guiding light, but now all I see is darkness and I am trying to desperately hold onto something but all I catch is air.

What happened exactly? Is it just me making things up, or something else? Who has the answers?

Please tell.

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….