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’. 

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Posted in Midnight musings

Tired but not sleepy

I am tired but not sleepy. I was sleepy few hours ago in office when I wasn’t tired. Work has been busy for the past two three weeks. Busy is good. But, too much good is bad. Hence, every night – tired but not sleepy. Which transalates to awake but not active in the morning. Funny how coffee/tea helps some people, doesn’t help me, momentarily yes. 

My body is a big believer of Newton’s Law of Motion (I know stale joke). If at rest, will be at rest. Workouts these days are so exhausting – every single cell in my body asks me to hide under the blanket and go back to sleep. My 50-year-old mother is more active than me. One day she said she would massage my back because I was stooping like an old lady, felt so ashamed. Her legs pain at times, when she runs around a lot doing all of our work, but her daughter is already 129 years old. 
I have had too much work since last few weeks, she has had too much work since my elder sister was born. How do mother’s have so much of strength. I was thinking about a time when I would be an adult, and live alone in a house. It will be in such a mess, even though I am a very clean person, not neat maybe, but clean. I don’t have that much energy as her.

This time also I must just force myself to sleep, but forcing never helps. The train of thoughts starts running at 1000 km/hr and no one can pull it’s brakes. 

I just told a friend today about how I would have liked to attend the Arundhati Roy event in Delhi, but I was not in the city. And there are many more things that keep on happening that I would like to attend. So I decided that the best way to make it possible would be to buy a helicopter. This year I bought a cycle and a car now I want to buy a copter. With this, my list of things that I would want to buy (if possible/make possible) stands at. 

  1. That abandoned bungalow at Kasturba Gandhi Marg. 
  2. That abandoned bungalow at Number 10 market
  3. Caravan
  4. Helicopter

Only 4 things. 

I realised another thing today. Whenever somebody talks about stakeholders (which happens a lot in journalism) my mind immediately flits to a  steak. And I get beautiful images of hot, steaming food. Weird. 

This is the thousandth time I have used the word. Weird.

Should be improving my vocabulary, but it’s stuck on those few words/phrases that you can’t stop using like – confused, anxious, annoyed, idiotic, stupid, shit, like, you know, as in, I mean, weird. I don’t know. Tired. Not sleepy. Sleepy. Not tired. 

Posted in Midnight musings, Random

There is a lie you partake in

procrastinatingtanya

There is a lie you partake in.

It’s beautiful, so much that you do anything to not let it break. It’s so carefully constructed that you can’t see the truth that has been buried behind it.

If at all, the truth tries to find it’s way out, you quickly find that beautiful lie and hide behind it.

I was a part of a lie too — so beautiful that nothing else has ever come close.

It was my seed, but two other people watered it daily, one more than the other.

It grew up big and strong, so big that it consumed me.

The truth came forward many times, trying to talk to me, but I didn’t want to hear it because of the two people who kept my beautiful lie safe for me.

I always knew the seed was faulty, something I had scrounged for in the storm.

The…

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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 Midnight musings

Letter to a dear friend

Hello my friend,

I know we haven’t talked in a while. Not a while actually — in very very long.

I miss you many times, I think of you often. Sometime I walk past a place that is associated with you, sometimes I see your face in my dream, sometimes an incident reminds me of you, and sometimes there is just no reason.

But everything else just goes on happening, and I do not know what to say to you at that moment. That hello I thought about you? And then what?

I know we don’t talk. Remember, how we said, we won’t drift apart? We will always talk. You are my bfffffff my one and only, you understand me like no one does, but we did in fact stop talking.

Funny, how life happens when you don’t notice it. I miss you many times and I think of dropping a text, but then I stop because I don’t know what to say… I worry because I think I am bothering you and you don’t want to talk to me.

Then there are times when I think I am the silly one who holds on to things and moments unnecessarily when everyone else moves on.

But then I remember how we laughed till our stomachs ached, how we visited new places or settled into the old comfortable ones, how when I was scared and alone you held my hand and I felt that things would be easier, how you made me feel important, how I shared my problems with you, how everything with you was a little more fun. I hope I did the same for you my friend.

I have no complaints. I know what happened, why we don’t speak often, we grew up we got jobs and responsibilities or you know circumstances, you don’t even have to explain because I understand. I just want to say I love you no matter how many years it has been or will be since we talk.

I will always remember you. I will always be your friend.

No matter how many years go by I will still recognise you in a mall. Maybe I won’t run towards you because I am scared because I think you don’t want to see me, or that it is awkward, or not cool or something like that.

But I will be happy at that moment. I will always have with me the tiny details I learned about you over time — like how you love purple but you tell everyone your favourite colour is red, or how you eat chocolate ice cream with extra chocolate sauce, how you like to run after little kids on the street and play with them, how you thought that Australia and new Zealand are the same thing, how you are scared of spiders, how you would watch horror movies and then call me in the middle of the night because you are too scared to sleep, how you would always eat too much chilly even when you cannot handle it, how you were too lazy to complete your homework but never lazy to come to help me, how you shared your food with me when I forgot mine, how you stayed over at my house when I broke my little toe, how you travelled a day just to be there on my birthday, I can write forever if I have to, but I will stop.

All I wish sometimes, is to spend time with you again, go again to those places which we called ours. Only the thought relaxes me, specially now when everything moves so fast and I cannot understand who is my friend or who is my foe. But I understand one thing that maybe we never will be the same again, and it is okay, what can we do about it?

I have learnt from my mistakes, I have tried to be better. I think, if we met today you might see how much I have changed in a good way, and be happy for me. I will still make mistakes, it is sad that I will not have the comfort of your words around me, but then again what else can we do.

You know how scared I am of getting attached, of getting hurt.

I worry you will laugh at me if I ever say these things to you, I worry that you will not remember me so I might never say this to you in person. Because I am scared.

When we first moved to a new school, new city, new college etc, I was scared you’ll get new and better friends and forget me, I still feel sad about that at times when I am feeling low and I look around me and do not find you. Sometimes I think it is my fault, and there are other times when I think that is not the case. You chose to stay away, you chose to not talk. You are happy that we are no longer ‘bffffffsssss’, that we do not have to see each other.

Or maybe you think I have changed too much, or you never really liked me and we were friends because it was convenient at that time. I am as confused, but that is something I always was, don’t you remember friend.

I don’t know whether whatever I have said to you makes sense, even if it doesn’t, I know you will understand, because you always do.

I will end the letter now with a thank you. I miss you a lot. And I will always cherish you. I wish we could go back, but while we can’t, I have made my peace with our memories.

I love you.

Your sappy friend.

Posted in Random

Retweet. Scroll. Yawn. Repeat

Retweet. Scroll. Retweet. Haha. Scroll. Click. Yawn. Scroll. Scroll. Scroll.

What to do? What to do? What to do? Brain feels like metal. Feeling sleepy. Two cups of tea does nothing. Cannot have more tea. Why am I sleepy? Slept for 15 hours, that is more than half a day. When will I write nice and descriptive pieces that manage to move people. Maybe sometime when my brain does not feel like a big block of ice. I need to stop being zoned out. I cut social media so that I stop scrolling, I have now focussed my entire energy on twitter, little less scrolling but the same addiction to my phone screen. Unhealthy amounts of youtubing (is it a verb yet?). Not enough brain enrichment activities. I feel so lonely and dumb, lonely because I do not know who to talk to and what to talk to and dumb because I do not know what to do to get out of this lull.

Been the same for days now. I try to get out but I do not have that much strength. What do people do in free time? How do they have a sense of purpose? Or are there completely uneventful days together for everyone? Is everyone as stupid as me over analysing every thought?

I hate being an editor sometimes, has taken every amount of original creativity from me. Can jazz up anyone’s piece, add unnecessary drama, pour in all kinds of emotions, tighten it, polish it and present it to you so in a manner so that you are compelled to lap up my words. But, where is my own writing prowess, no visuals, no imagination, nothing that will make you let out a laugh or stifle a sob or maybe just sigh because you think I put to words what you failed to say.

I feel that way about everyone else’s copies whatever I read that is. The words run so smoothly, you can taste them before you can read them. The knots in your mind ease because the words are slowly caressing the tense areas, you are surprised yet again at the magic of words because that is what you have been doing for as long as you can remember, from small story books to 1000 pages novels. And everytime your lips read the words and the images played in your mind, you waited, you waited for your time when your carefully constructed paragraphs would tantalise someone’s imagination, you would use alliteration everywhere because that is your favourite stylistic device, you want to write  pretty proses about people and their pets but you are stuck in your head, your frozen, heavy weighing-you-down head. It makes you believe that you are the only thing important in this world and you and you and you and your problems and oh the world so unfair and all the worries of the world upon your weary shoulders so you take pity on yourself and write a 500 word piece about how you are the dumbest person on this earth because at this moment that is all you can do and then go back to Scroll. Scroll. Scroll. Scroll. Scroll…