With English Language


This post has been long overdue. I first thought about writing it when I was sitting in a bar with some of my friends. Half of us are non-native English speakers. I asked them, ‘which language do you think in?’

I wish the answers they gave me were revealing. They weren’t, all of them thought about it and then shrugged ignorance. No one knew.

I remember reaching in Auckland two years ago. I remember my first conversations. I would pause before speaking because I would get my languages mixed up. Even though I am a competent multilingual, I couldn’t think of the words. I had to translate every sentence I was going to utter from Hindi to English.

I don’t remember the time when I stopped thinking in Hindi. I wish I did so that I could give a definite answer it took for me to leave my language behind. One day when I was biking home and I was thinking of which route to take when it hit me, my thoughts were articulated in English.


When I was studying for undergraduate degree or when I started working in India, I met new people. On the basis of languages, I could categorize two types: ones who would mostly speak in English and others would communicate in Hindi. I also learned that it didn’t matter as eventually everyone who could, would revert to Hindi.

It was natural, almost instinctual amongst us. Sentences would get a motley of words from both languages; idioms roughly translated and laughed at.

It didn’t matter if I couldn’t get my message across in English, I had the safety net of just doubling down to Hindi just like my peers.


In Auckland, there are numerous times when I have to re-frame my sentences because what I said was incoherent. It wasn’t particularly because of our lingo differences, I always found it difficult to form sentences on the go while speaking. Writing, on the other hand, came naturally.

There were also numerous times when I didn’t understand what other Kiwis are saying. Sometimes they would say ‘Cheers’ as thank you and other times they would exclaim ‘Sweet As!’ to express their approval. I still don’t get the second one.

I had to relearn the programming jargon so that I could use it when I am working, or explaining my code to someone.

I am not an accurate representation of every non-native speaker or everyone has the same issues. I don’t face the same issues all the time either. There have been occasions when I was perfect and then some bad days when I would stammer and lisp my way through a conversation. Probably has something to do with my level of confidence on that particular day.


I have a lot of free time in my hands these days. My friends with whom I would spend most of my weekends are gone, and I wonder what to do with them. Sometimes I think it would be a great thing to learn a new language. I ask myself, do I need to learn a new language?

Is it even useful anymore?

Then I go to an Asian supermarket and listen to people speak their language and realize: yeah it is. I really want to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations.


It was one of my first months in Auckland. I was returning home and I was sitting in the back of the bus. A group of three people were talking loudly near me and I could hear everything they said. They were talking about bacon.

‘You never have to use oil when making bacon because there is enough fat in the bacon’ one of them said. I made bacon for the first time a couple of days later.

I also looked over to the speaker and saw that he was also Indian, possibly a Kiwi national by his accent & fluency. One day, I thought.


Looking back on the different things I have done, people I have met, I know that the one day has long been crossed. English is no longer a second language, a means to illustrate my education ( India ) or a barrier ( New Zealand ).

 

Image Credits: Photo by mali maeder on Pexels.com

Musical Farewell


* Note: This post is more than a week late
* Also, all people in this post are mentioned by their initials

This was my fourth farewell in the last couple of weeks. I joked with P the other day, I am losing my friends. Some friends are leaving because they don’t have a visa and others like E because she wants to travel.

With every goodbye I utter, I expect myself to grow indifferent and apathetic and yet I haven’t. Every farewell is different but each bring about a emotion in me. This scares me. I realize that I am more attached to my friends that I thought I was.


‘I am going to miss you,’ I say as I hug E goodbye after the farewell, ‘it is unusual for me to be so comfortable around people. I am going to miss that.’

‘Of course, we are really cool people’ E jokes. Obviously, someone has to discharge the emotion in the room with humor.


Last Saturday was E’s farewell. I met her around my first hackathon and then we became friends as we started hosting a meetup along with P and A. Our group became larger as the weeks passed on by and I was glad for that. It didn’t change the group dynamics on the contrary it made hanging out even more fun. It was no surprise that Saturday night was amazing.

Somehow a stupid song ‘Ken Lee’ became the anthem of the night, sung repeatedly. The night became truly extraordinary after the clock struck 10pm, guitars and keyboards were brought out.

We demanded performances as if we had never heard songs before. The hits rolled out: Can’t Live without You by Mariah Carey, Winds of Change by Scorpio, Africa by Toto, Girls Just Wanna Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper, Better Half of Me by Dash Burlin and more. We sang without really being drunk, our mood imitating the ambiance one can find in a Karaoke bar. We were happy. We were laughing and we were singing.


We were sitting down. J mentioned a conversation between her and E about our group. The crux of it was that E has become sort of a mother for the group: she would bring food for meetups, she would organize and plans for all of us to get together: sometimes movie nights at her group.

‘It is true,’ I say, ‘E is sort of the planner/mom of the group. We will not have any plans or things to do in the next couple of weeks.’

Everyone laughs.


I remember my brain taking a snapshot of the room. My brain does that from time to time, ensuring that I would never forget something really important. It is as if time slows down and I observe everything in utmost clarity as I did on Saturday night.

E is playing her guitar, R is playing his keyboard, Ir is holding her phone to read the lyrics of the song as we all sing along in a massive out of tune chorus. I feel a grin on my face and at that time I kind of regret that P and A had left the party early. I also know that it would be a while before we would get together like this again. I also know that I will try to capture the essence of the party into this post and will ultimately fail.


There was a house cat at the party. He would be the center of attraction as soon as he walked in the room. As Enzo was being petted by multiple hands, P mentioned about humans being petted.

The joke was simple: will it be weird if we are walking down the road and random people stop us to give our heads a nice pat.

I might actually like that.


It was a great night. It was one of those times in which the sum of emotions is hard to describe. I was happy to be a part of the family that I had formed, sad because I knew that it might not go back to normal for a while, amazed because I didn’t know that my friends are so talented and… I don’t know what else. It is difficult to dissect my feelings about the night.

 

Privilege


In recent times, privilege has been branded as a word to describe to Whites. The use of the word is many a times justified, but I am not the judge of that. I am not perceptive enough to pick out subtle race differences, to spot the minorities. I am not writing a post about racism, nothing has warranted it. But now, I have  a taste of privilege.

 


 

Last night, after a hilarious evening with some friends I took the midnight bus home. I didn’t want to read a book. I sat with music reverberating in my ears and looked around. For the midnight bus, there were still a lot of people riding home. Auckland doesn’t sleep either. I saw faces mirroring mine: tired, sleepy and listening to music than talk to each other. The only sound was the roar of the engine (which was not much) and chatter of a couple. I raced my brain to draw some inspiration in the scene, to get inspired and write a fictional story from the dark passage home but I couldn’t. How could I?

 


 

We all are going somewhere. One station at a time #train #blacknwhite #auckland

A photo posted by Mayur Wadhwani (@mayurdw) on Feb 29, 2016 at 10:26pm PST

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On my way to work in train, I was reading a collection of personal essays. I was mundane, another commuter more engrossed in his phone or his book than to observe people or talk to people. This changed until the person next to me took out a novel. Her interests and mine were different, I read novels for fun and she read because of curiosity, which was now focused on understanding New Zealand’s aboriginals Maoris. I could see her interests in tracing Maori philosophical & cultural roots

In my time in Auckland, Maoris look physically big, scary. It is difficult to comprehend their accent their sense of humor is eclectic, only to be understood by them. After I actually got to know a few of them, I can say now they are simple-minded and enthusiastic about everything. (Exclude a gregarious roommate I had in my previous home)

We spoke first about Maori culture, I already knew a little about their mythologies as I have read some novels. I don’t know everything about them after reading a couple of novels. On the other hand, she is trying to understand the customs, their drive. She said she could draw many parallels between her Buddhist practices and Maori practices. One peculiar custom we spoke of related to their ‘Mana'(or in how I could understand the term: respect) is when a person wronged and their Mana been damaged, the same person must restore their Mana by damaging the perpetrator’s Mana. From my sessions in my University’s debate society, I know there is a property law founded on the same principle.

However, we quickly moved on from books and spoke about the city life, which is lonely as compared to rural life, rife with communities and mutual care. She said that she is trying to help out in her own way to take care of the surroundings, to give back to the country she is staying in and trying to understand the wealth gap existing particularly in Auckland. She mentioned that she feels privileged to have enough food, shelter and livelihood.

 


 

If you ever ask any foreign national to describe India, or Mumbai specifically, they will say it is very poor. She said the same thing while reminiscing her last trip to Mumbai. She was torn at the sight of so many poor people living without basic amenities. I wanted to tell her that she was a magnet for all the beggars as she had dollars. The heartlessness of my own words shamed me. Our conversation had quickly moved on from Maori culture to the poverty prevalent in my home city, the intensity of our conversation didn’t. As for the homeless in Auckland, I could say I have seen worse. Became immunized to worse conditions.

Probably why I never complain about buses running late in the city, as I have traveled buses which were running with a joke of timetable in my hometown. Why I never complain about the traffic or for that matter the standard of living here as I know it is four times what I was used to. And I am still scrapping the end of the barrel here.

When we spoke, for me it was very easy to fire up, and be outraged by her pity to call India poor. After all we are improving. However, the truth is we have to fight for basic amenities in India. The biggest of which is, and forever will be, water supply. There is too much in rainy season, too little in summer. I tried to defend my country by quoting Rang De Basanti ‘No country is perfect’ but at the end, I knew she was right. The ceaseless struggle, my city which never sleeps, city I left behind. I moved to a place with better living, with hopes of making a better life.

I have no conclusions to draw from yesterday. Because we never reached a conclusion. Maybe there will never be a conclusion.

Weekend Coffee Share: New House


If we were having coffee, I would tell you that I moved to a new house past Sunday. It’s not as luxurious as my previous house but then again I knew it was coming. I spent the week here, making friends with the roommates and slowly our bond seems to be getting stronger, unlike my previous roommates.

Also, while sipping coffee, I would complain about my cycle. Start of the week it had a puncture and now there is another problem with the rear gear derailleur. No wonder people give advises to buy a good cycle and not a cheap one. Well, I still have to get a quote on the derailleur problem.

However I love cycling around here. There is a direct separate cycling way to my university, an easy way to the church and both sides it is fun to cycle. Yeah it is also tiring but then again I am having fun. I would have more fun if my cycle stops breaking down so much.

I would tell you that I started working on my Master’s project even before my grades were out. This is especially risky as I didn’t know at that time what is going to happen with my degree anymore. Regardless, even though I worked for a couple of days, I was happy. Finally!

Speaking of grades: they are also out. Unfortunately, I don’t know if I clear them to qualify for my Master’s or not yet. As my grades are bordering between B and C, I don’t know what to infer. When I read the grades all I could do was laugh: even now I feel like Life’s playing with me.

If we do have coffee, I would tell you the highlight of the entire week has been the spoken word event that I attended and wrote about it. I would tell you that I’m desperately waiting for the next such event as I loved it. Considering the response that they got, I hope that they don’t charge it from the next time.

Lastly, I would turn the mike over to you and await to hear from you: how has your week been?

Level 2016: You Are Just Going To Get Harder Aren’t You?


If life is compared to a computer game then each year would be a level.

In the beginning of the level, it seems easier but with time it gets harder and harder. You pray for the demon to appear so you could beat him and finish the level.

If life is a computer game, then that demon really cannot be defeated. Because that bastard reiterates itself in multiple forms that it no longer have a name or face. That demon can be beat but then you will be wary of its reappearance.

If life is a computer game, then the game developer must be one of the sneaky ones. Because this game does not drop hints of the coming monstrosity. However, in the game developer’s defence, there are no intimation of blissful moments either. Sneaky and gracious game developer then.

If life is a computer game then most times you get hurt. However there is no reset button, if you die there is no reincarnation at the hospital like its GTA. There are no cheat code to gain weapons so that you can kill away the bastards in life. Then again, you realize you cannot hurt even a fly, killing is way out of your league.

Friends are those bonus which come irregularly but revitalize your life. Family is the thing that can sap your energy but without them the game is worthless. Game scores become irrelevant after enough game-play because the missions matter more. You already know you can’t get a perfect score; unless of course you have money.

If life is a computer game then level 2016 is going to be tougher than 2015.

There will be more heartbreak, more brutalities, sporadic joys. But maybe you have finally gotten the hang of it now.

Now you, if life is a computer game then you know where to look if you are almost out of power. You almost can see the trap coming from a couple of meters away. And you also know that you might be wrong. You would know what you are looking for, it won’t be absolute but it will be enough for now.

If 2016 is a game level, then there are a lot of levels left to play, so do not give up. Because you will die, so take your time and get up again. The rules are almost discernible now. Life is difficult, levels are more difficult and love is impossible.

But you play this computer game of life, cause only then there’s any meaning. Cause only then there’s Elysium in hardships.

Thank You: We ought to say it more


Because we do not say thank you to anyone any more.

Not to family or friends, the prospect of saying thank you to people who owe us nothing is a far fetched dream. A irony of this lack of expression is social media though.

Say Thank You to the people, like the conductor who punched your ticket on the public transport, or the guy who held the elevator for you. Or for that matter who kept the door open when you walked in with your hands full. Their deeds are not extraordinary, but necessary nonetheless.


Thank You is a simple thing to say, common words in every language.  If used apropos, they can explicit the gratitude.

I am trying to be genuine in my expression. It is difficult because everyone is a skeptic, but it doesn’t hurt to try.

A while ago, I met a girl who said Thanks to everyone. The ticket conductor, the rickshaw driver, the person who served our meals. Intrigued and awestruck I asked her why. Her answer was a shrug, a habit I guessed was ingrained in her demeanour.

I unwittingly adopted her habit. Soon I said thank you to the elevator man, the lunch boy, canteen boy, watchman, neighbour. Yeah, pretty much everybody.

It feels good, when you say Thank you to the conductor who just gave you change when commuting. It feels better when you say thanks for doing his job. Same goes for grocery shopping, say thank you and the stall owner and he is bound to greet you back with his hands raised and posed in a Namaste or a Salaam.

Seriously, try it.


A month ago, I took a bus home. Unfortunately, I had a 500 rupee note, 16 rupee change and the ticket was a mere 26 rupee in comparison. The conductor had no change to give me. He did not want to risk taking the note from me either, he explained that recently there is a plethora of fake currency. 

He respectfully (that is a miracle in itself) asked me to get down at the next stop and take the next bus.

Distressed, I fumed about what to do because I did not want to wait for the next bus. It was already a long day at the office. The guy who sat in front of me overheard our conversation and offered to pay the remainder. That was bigger miracle.

In a small conversation he gave me a huge lesson in humility; he told me he was stuck with some money issue in the bus. Someone helped him out too then. Now he helped me out and asked me to help out another such stuck commuter if I could.

I promised that I will, thanking him more than once. I also made a promise to buy his ticket the next time we meet. Unfortunately, I no longer remember his name, face. He is now another random face in the crowd for me.

I still have not helped any other commuter in a similar fashion, but I help in any way possible.


There is more than one instance when the thank you is not acknowledged.

I get it, the listener may not have heard me. Maybe they were having a bad day. Its cool, its all cool.

Like I said, I enjoy saying the words. It is ingrained in me by my own deeds,  a habit that I do not want to obviate.

The heart of the issue is most of the people do not say thank you. They act as they do not even care. I do not help people for their thank you, and at the risk of sounding a hypocrite, that nonchalance is offending.

I feel like staring at the people for whom I just kept the elevator waiting (this happens a lot of time in my office) to coerce them into saying thank you.

Like the girl however, I just shrug it off.


The irony of this situation is social media. For me saying thank you is not manners but I am assuming that they are manners for every other socialite.

On Facebook, Twitter and everywhere else, manners are rigorously followed. Every comment gets a thank you.

But in real life, thank you is lost, meaningless and taken for granted.

It says something about us, my generation. We consider the same words as a sign of weakness.

Suddenly, due to pop culture idolizing the stolid, arrogant protagonists and other ignorant heretics, saying and acknowledging other people’s kindness depicts a weak individual.

Seriously, WTF!


In stark contrast, help out an old person and wait till you hear him say Thank You Beta (son). There is the zenith of humility and graciousness. The qualities one should be chasing and not money.

I remember speaking to a good friend once and she told me about her classmates. One thing we both agreed on is the lack of humility everywhere. Everyone is a braggadocio. Everyone wants to prove their superiority. No one wants to help though, no one can say thank you and sorry anymore.

We debate about intolerance and feminism. We have not yet learned the basic, easy humane values. Then we wonder what is wrong with the world.

Quitting Blogging, Missing Birthdays and all the rest


Around the time I started working, I was out of ideas, I had nothing to write anymore and even worse I was hesitant to share the things I used to share so bravely when I was back in college. Moreover, I was frantic over the fact that my blog, something that I am dabbing with my soul for so long is simply refusing to fly. So a month ago, I decided to quit blogging. That seemed like the perfect solution to things, no more blog posts and then no more stats to worry about.


In the last two months six of my friends had their birthdays. Before I had left college I had promised all of my friends I will keep in touch with them. Now almost six months later (where did the six months go!), I cannot even remember their birthdays. I missed six birthdays, I never checked birthdays on Facebook. Some of them understood, some of them cursed me playfully. Although I am never the one for partying I do intend to be there for friends especially on the big days. I couldn’t even remember my best friends birthdays.


I hated my decision to quit, but when I knew the only way for me to enjoy this again is to make sure I stop looking at the page views. I even gave a trial run of writing in my phone for a couple of days as a personal journal. It was good, that made me realize what is more important when I blog here. I ended up catching up with the bloggers who I follow and I loved what they wrote. I read and I read more than I can ever.


I called up my friends, apologized for not being there with them on their day. To my best friend I offered to buy a gift. And I never do gifts, the entire idea is highly overrated to me. But the guilt that rode me made me offer.Luckily, friend here never thought too big of it. So did all the other friends, they understood. I must have done something right by them, otherwise I have seen friendships broken with such little thought.


Another one of my blog friend quit blogging around the same time I contemplating to quit. She started blogging when I started and her blog I really enjoyed. Even though she wrote only about nonsensical things (sorry :P) I liked her blog. With her leaving this place, I felt bereavement of sorts. We are still in touch but she hardly ever blogs anymore, regardless of the fact she has a new blog.


I was afraid moreover that my own blog can be used against me. It took some will to convince myself that the only people reading this will be the ones who actually want to know what is happening in my life. My blog is going to be updated today after almost a month. Only yesterday did I realize that maybe I do have somethings to say. I will always have new things to say. I just need to stop making excuses to not write here.


I did meet my friends again. Not all of them, but with them the old familiarity returns however tarnished. I speak less with them, I speak less with everyone. I think I did make some new friends again, actual friends and not bullshit ones. I always had a plan to get my shit together so to say, only tonight I am beginning to try.

Now, as I proofread this I realize my writing is still very bad. My thoughts muddled and yet I am going to try big things like #NaNoWriMo. I have no idea how am I actually going to achieve that. Neither do I know how I will actually continue writing and how am I going to prioritize things in life. I guess I should say I am sorry for almost deleting my blog, I should say I am sorry to my friends for forgetting birthdays. But enough self-pity for a day.

Lessons

Things Never Done


I traveled by bus past her area, thinking I will be unaffected. But I become overwhelmed by the past.

The past was funny, flirty and childish. It was something inexperienced, new and cute as a baby.

The face I never could recall. I always marveled at my inability to recall her visage, I’m one of those who never forgot a face.

The words stayed though, the laughs shared, the places described and the wishes left unfulfilled. Of going to the places she described, enjoying the things she so enthusiastically explained, ones I never got to do.

Fate ran its own course and the irony of how things ended left me mortified. How the last conversation ended in blood and threats.

The realization of how big I messed up plagues me, producing questions which I could never find answers for. Regrets gave me a lesson in humility.

I miss the conversations. No matter how many times they are emulated with another, they lack the originality, the naïveté.

I guard my tongue more than before, aware that I’ll still hurt someone way too easily. Haunted by the thought of making the same mistake again.

Rain fell, seemingly to compliment the bereavement.

(Image Credits: Pagecovers.com)

Keep Me As A Friend


Yes have me as a friend. I am interested in you. I want to know about you.

I don’t expect us to be best buddies. I don’t want us to stay up till 4 am and have a profound conversation. But I will be your best friend if you need me to. I’ll stay up all night if you want me to.

I don’t have any illusions. We aren’t perfect. If you have lived this long then you will be hurt, broken and imperfect. I know it. I won’t ask you about it, you tell me when you get want to. You keep your secrets, and share if you want to. I’ll listen.

There won’t be thousands of pictures of us. There will hardly be a few. But there will be memories. There will be giggles and there will be disgust. There will definitely be tears. Because crying comes the easiest. So have whatever you want to, I’ll be there.

Call me if you have a problem. Call me if there’s a difficulty. Call me if you are eating my favorite food. Or just call me if there’s nothing to do. I’ll pick up. And I’ll either help you or just make fun of you.

Tell me about your interests. Tell me your goals and I’ll encourage you. I’ll enjoy your victories and I’ll tell you to cherish your defeats. I’ll share your passions, even if I don’t know anything about them. I’ll tag you in posts that I think will interest you. I’ll tell you about things that interest me, but I won’t coerce you into liking them. I won’t try too hard to be liked, I am just enthusiastic about lot of things. And there are too many things that can interest me.

I will not bore you with my problems. I keep them into myself and this blog. You ask me about them and I won’t lie to you, not because I’m whiny but because I respect you too much to lie. And I’ll get my shit together.

I won’t look at your color. I won’t care about your devotion neither will I be bothered about your caste. I’ll try to be the same for all. I’ll hang out with you unconcerned. I’ll guard my tongue as per your tolerance.

I’ll be a chameleon, I’ll change my behavior as per my group. I’ll be indecent and I’ll be mannered. I am not trying to fit in, I don’t have just one side, I have many. Neither do you. I won’t ask you about them. I will give you your space and expect the same in return.

And with time I’ll leave you alone. I will be attached, I’ll want you in my life but I’ll make sure I don’t need you. If we make a stronger bond then you will despise me. You will want to kill me. And that’s okay, getting close entails hatred. I can’t have things my way all the time.

So this friendship day I’ll say to you, keep me as a friend. I’ll miss out on birthdays but I will be next to you at funerals. Because that’s what friends do. They laugh and cry together.

One of best friendship posts i have read and saved in my phone:

https://endkwote.wordpress.com/2014/08/07/never-always-hardly-truly/

Why Do Dogs Have To DIe?


There is a bitch that stayed a couple of buildings away from mine. Or there was a bitch.

I never took any pictures of her, but whenever I walked Jimmy near her building she would run out, a huge doggy grin in her face and play with us. She would irritate jimmy by trying to sniff his ears, she would patiently keep her head pressed up against my knee for some petting and scratching. I really enjoyed petting her, her golden fur was one of the most softest fur I have felt, she would have double the energy of Jimmy on any day.

I remember once when I was walking Jimmy she came out of the gate and started pestering Jimmy. And whenever Jimmy tried to sniff her butt she would dash off to her building again, in solitude. That day she dashed off to the top of a nearby parked car. Jimmy tried to follow her but he lacked her height and her agility. So he stayed on his hunches on the road and she up on the roof, both making mopping noises but none moving; because of which I had to stand there holding Jimmy’s leash for about fifteen minutes before he agreed to move.

I hardly saw her recently. I don’t remember when was the last time I scratched behind her ears but whenever I passed her building I tried to catch a glimpse of her. Today I found out that her name was Grubby. WAS. She died seven months ago: run over by a school bus. The school bus being of the same school I passed out from. And I was devastated. She was just another stray dog that the building tenets adopted, no home and leftover food. Jimmy doesn’t remember her, if he would have then he would also wait for her to come out(he used to do that before). But I do. Golden fur, ears straight as an arrow, left ear had a cut and a long equine maw. She would attack Jimmy like a snake and me I would laugh at them for their plays.

My dad would say that it(dad wouldn’t use pronouns) had a fate like that, die by being run over by a car/bus. But she was a good dog. She would listen to her building owners calls, play and never bite. She would be full of energy, always running from one side of the street to the other. Always grinning. Always. And she is now buried in an unmarked grave opposite her building.

Everyone dies, I get it. But why the innocent animals?! They didn’t make the cars neither did they make the road. They are the ones being experimented on, they are the ones who can’t speak yet they know more about emotions than we do. They are simple minded creatures who can only care and for being more humane than we humans can, they get an end like this?!

Damn it! Where’s the Karma now? Someone tell me?

People Suck!


*This is a rant. There’s a possibility that none of this is meant for you but for the people I have in my life and I can’t just get rid of*

Yes I said it. Yes its mean. Yes I am Rambling and ranting but i hate people.

All you ever do is make life worse. Hardly do you ever bring to the table something good, hell you don’t eve bring yourselves most of the times deciding to wear a mask rather than show who you are.

You in all your diplomacy and crafty choice of words.

You in your facebook statuses and instagram post. All you ever do is brag, i can’t seem to remember the last time there was anything sad there. Ever!

Yes you suck. Because you get everything you are looking for, with absolutely no efforts whatsoever. And no I am looking closely, I would have noticed if you are trying to make it look very easy. There’s no efforts. Just a smile and things just fall into place for you.

There’s no sorrow. There’s no regards for your friends. There’s just you and still people just scramble for your feet. No one cares if you use them and throw them away. Nope! everything’s cool.

You are mean. The rules to make you happy change in a second. There’s hypocrisy of unparalleled levels yet everyone keeps their mouth shut. Why? because it will hurt feelings. Where’s that consideration when you are being mean to me?!

And I hate you. Not because you are inhuman nor because you are an absolute asshole, but because the field’s never equal between us. No amount of good I do will ever wipe out the bad I did, but you never have to do anything good. I will never get another chance and there you will be able to be choosy with chances. I will always earn less, struggle more and lay awake at night thinking what to do tomorrow while you will be having another great night. Everyone will praise me and say shit about you yet when the time’s come then I stand alone.

Yes its just a few people who are this way but its these people who make me think its better to spend time with my dog rather than try to fit in this world.

Struggle Never Ceases


Optimism can only go so far

I ended up saying the same thing to a couple of my friends, a lot during the last couple of days. And this was not just related to one issue.

Recently I read this girl’s post, and I felt sorry for her because what she is going through I went through four years ago. And as much support I wanna give to her, I can’t. Simply because I know only she can scrape through it herself.

And I lied to her. I said things get better. That’s a white faced lie, if there’s ever one. Because things never get better.

Life so far if I can divide into distinct parts would be my school exams (SSC) or the 10th grade, 12th grade(HSC) and an entrance exam followed by college. All the experiences all the memories can be so easily categorized by three academic progressions.

And each tougher than the last. Every time I heard the same thing: Give your best This Exam and your life path is paved in rose petals and a red carpet. Nothing like this happened. It was just a typical grass is greener on the other side. And the ruse used though motivational ended up disappointing me. There’s no end to this.

10th grade I slogged. 12th I slogged. Screwed up my entrance and yet somehow my mothertongue’s grace ended up in a college that was too good in its appearance.
And I struggled on and on. To be identified, to be understood, to achieve and to be liked. To fit in. The endless tirade always seemed to have an end which was constantly fleeing never to be in my grasp. And now when that’s over, I have to figure out how to… live, I guess. Find something that I love and do it. And that for me is hardest.

And honestly I give up.

There I said it. I can’t do this anymore. Because I know this for a fact, that tomorrow will definitely have its dark days. Future will be brutal, lonely and morose. Things never get better. Whenever you think they can’t get worse, they do the next time.

The good days, the joys too scanty and too transient. The bad days will be like weekdays. And sometimes weekends. And my optimism has depleted. I no longer look at the future with an wide eyed stupid perspective. The nativity is gone. Replaced by a pragmatic and realistic approach, the flippant attitude can’t be a used as a cover anymore.

So yeah, if there’s any good thing I can say is this. Things never get better, I just get better at handling them. I get better at carrying that burden that now buckles my knees and brings sweat to my brow.

There’s no peace*.

*Well there’s peace if you can find time to read a novel sitting on a couch sipping hot tea.

Editing


(This post is a long overdue. I could never get it right. Another post inspiration, Adi’s poem)

Write a fiction.
Write a story.
Write a novel.

And as you write you make characters. Some are nothing but a figment of your imagination, some inspired by real life people in your life, friend or foe.

And you go ahead with it. You write the characters, explore their different dimensions and ambitions. You want to invent something new. And after a while the characters become lifeless. There’s no depth to them, there’s no variations and their roles in the story is just redundant.  The characters are not what you intended to produce, the story doesn’t need them to move forward. The story moves forward without them just fine, even better mostly. The characters on whom you spent months evolving and building, the manifestation of the same are worthless.

Editing. That’s the key. It removes the unwanted to give a complete picture. No, not the complete perfect picture but surely a picture that’s better than before. And most of the time, it seemed like a really bad idea to edit out the characters. To not have those characters continue on till the very end of the story. But you have to let it go.

And that’s life, isn’t it?

People look great in the beginning. They give hopes, give a sense of goal when you meet them, but that’s short lived. Eventually, it stops working out.

I can try having certain people in life. Struggle to evolve a relationship with them. But when it doesn’t work, I have to let them go. There’s only sorrow down that road. The emotional investment will never be returned, neither it will be valued.

Because the more I try to hold on, the more agonizing it will become. And that’s the thing, sometimes it isn’t necessary to have the pain. It is not worth it. Those people aren’t worth it.

I would rather have the people who say “Thank you for being there always” rather than those who can’t see I have stood with them through it all.

So I’m gonna let it go. It isn’t easy. It maybe a mistake. But when I try to hold on to people who would rather be with someone else, I am begging to be hurt. It is selfish. It is going to be so easy to revert back to them. And when I know where that would lead to, I am the idiot for reverting.

And I can’t do it. Never again.

The world’s big. Thousands of people I have yet to meet. And the next time I meet another character like that, I should know better than to try  harder.

I guess I have some editing to do.

Heart’s


Inspiration:
‘There’s no present or future, there’s just past happening over and over again’- Eugene O’Neil


Heart’s a kid,
It jumps like nothing else.

Heart’s an adult,
It carries a burden.

Heart’s fickle,
It doesn’t know what it wants.

Heart’s adamant,
It has to get what it wants.

Heart’s selfish,
Nobody else matters.

Heart’s selfless,
Everyone else matters.

Heart’s naive,
Isn’t ready for this world.

Heart’s stupid,
Always makes the same mistakes.

Heart’s cold,
Antarctica may be warmer.

Heart’s hot,
Pumps enough to fill oceans.

Heart’s sorrow,
Heart’s joy,
Heart’s fragile,
Heart’s tensile.

Heart’s human,
Or humans are hearts.

Inadequate


Daily Prompt:
( Green-Eyed Lady

We all get jealous from time to time — what wakes the green-eyed monster for you?)

Jealousy is relatively easy to talk about. And social networking doesn’t exactly truncate jealousy. The usual things like hanging out, missing out or not having enough money or opportunity does and make almost everyone jealous. And relationships. Definitely.

But I’m not gonna talk about jealousy.

Its not jealousy. No that’s the wrong word.

I compare my life with others. Subconsciously. Autonomously.

Recently I discovered love of having honest conversations with people. Real people. People who would open up and talk about themselves and talk about the things that matter.

And the more I do that, more stories I gather.

People and their stories are amazing. Some climbed to Everest and same people trip a lot. Some stupid people haven’t been to Marine drive even after staying in Mumbai for twenty years. Though I don’t blame them, I know the feeling. Some can’t stop talking about their hometown.

They talk about everything. Family problems. Issues with friends. Professors. And the usual suspects.

People I met on blog are no less. The stories I read here torment the heart, soothe the heart. Make me laugh and make me cry. Some fascinate and some I can’t read more than five words because well I can’t understand what’s been written.

Yesterday when talking about the most embarrassing things which happened to us, I had none. Nada. Zip.
And that’s my usual answer to many things. I have to pick my brains for a long time and most of the times my stories are so puny. So inadequate.

And that’s funny because I basically write stories for hobby! I should be able to voice a past experience as a great story shouldn’t I?

A few years ago this would depress me. Sadden me because I would have felt I haven’t achieved much. Haven’t done anything.

And this is wrong isn’t it? I am supposed to say bravo and wow to their stories ain’t I?

Maybe someday I will stop feeling inadequate when I compare myself to others. But if that happens then I won’t push myself for something new either.

Guess I don’t have the answer to that one.

Let’s see what others have written:

http://jitterygt.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/the-match-part-5-rustys-destination/
http://wangsgard.com/wellness/self-defeating-beliefs-23374/
http://bobbeck1600.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/daily-prompt-green-eyed-lady/
http://medinaque.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/daily-prompt-green-eyed-lady/
http://sabethville.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/dp-daily-prompt-green-eyed-lady/
http://purplesus.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/daily-prompt-green-eyed-lady/
http://sarahsemeniuk.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/dirty-envy/
http://tnkerr.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/daily-prompt-green-eyed-lady/
http://adityaviyer.com/2014/04/04/green-eyed-lady/
http://godthroughmyeyes.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/green-eyed-lady/
http://evilqueensandcoffeebeans.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/114/
http://dailymusing57.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/daily-prompt-jealousy/
http://therivermom.com/2014/04/04/reciprocal/
http://anawnimiss.wordpress.com/2013/10/19/of-wickedness/
http://thewriteweb.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/wake-up-o-sleeping-stone/
http://mahitravel.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/daily-prompt-green-eyed-monster/
http://marthakennedy.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/2635/
http://averildean.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/aces/
http://arakawafiction.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/napowrimo-day-4-smitten/
http://marthakennedy.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/2635-greeneyed-lady/
http://jenndonneo.com/2014/04/04/daily-prompt-green-eyed-lady/
http://flowersandbreezes.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/leave-me-free/
http://zainabjavid.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/how-do-they-do-it/
http://angloswiss-chronicles.com/2014/04/04/daily-prompt-green-eyed-lady/
http://lifeisgreat0.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/nonsense/
http://meanderedwanderings.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/green-all-over/
http://eastelmhurstagogo.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/im-just-a-jealous-guy/
http://elementaryverse.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/the-green-eyed-monster/
http://elementaryverse.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/green-eyed-monster/
http://myjourneyeveryday.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/daily-prompt-green-eyed-lady/
http://thatsmyanswer.com/daily-prompt-from-wordpress-hey-o-jealousy/
http://myatheistblog.com/2014/04/04/daily-prompt-green-eyed-lady/
http://hometogo232.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/daily-prompt-green-eyed-lady/
http://wisskko.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/if-i-have-to-choose-one-thing-that-makes-me-jealous/
http://www.pghlesbian.com/2014/04/im-jealous-of-chris-potters-coffee-mates/
http://tobyandtimba.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/the-difference-between-cats-and-humans-is-sleep/
http://thebohemianrockstarpresents.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/napowrimo2014-as-long-as-i-have-words-day-4/
http://agent909.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/daily-prompt-green-eyed-lady-the-path-to-freedom-and-fear/
http://allthingscuteandbeautiful.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/daily-prompt-being-jealous/
http://emotionalfitnesstraining.com/2014/04/04/me-jealous-sadly-yes/
http://hudleyflipside.org/2014/04/04/with-wild-cat-designs-comes-love-passion-and-jealousy/
http://oneeducatorsopinion.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/sometimes-my-eyes-are-just-a-little-more-green-than-usual/
http://djgarcia94.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/i-dont-always-get-jealous/
http://boundariesandedges.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/green-eyed-lady/
http://tobreatheistowrite.com/2014/04/04/napowrimo-day-4-poem-jealousy/
http://diaryofdennis.com/2014/04/04/daily-prompt-green-eyed-lady/
http://normashilpi.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/haves-vs-have-nots/
http://tonevershutup.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/daily-prompt-green-eyed-lady/
http://lenzexperiments.wordpress.com/2014/04/05/caught-in-the-act/
http://worldruler007.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/daily-prompt-green-eyed-lady/
http://chasingdestino.com/2014/04/04/green-eyed-lady/
http://shardsofsilence.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/skinny-selfies/
http://gatitaoscura.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/the-game/
http://truckerturningwrite.com/2014/04/04/the-emperors-new-clothes/
http://bluejbluej.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/a-big-one/
http://thesalmonyatra.wordpress.com/2012/07/30/wise-words-steve-jobs/
http://flashinthepanwritings.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/envy/
http://theshotgungirls.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/oklahoma-rose/
http://lisadorenfest.com/2014/04/05/lovers-in-a-box/
http://sandersjames.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/green-eyed-monster/
http://rosiesmrtiepants.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/i-covet-no-more/
http://myauthoritis.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/never-jealousmuch/
http://helenmeikle.wordpress.com/2014/04/05/daily-prompt-greens-my-favourite-colour-but/
http://basicallybeyondbasic.com/2014/04/04/daily-prompt-green-eyed-lady/
http://paisleyimprint.wordpress.com/2014/04/05/short-story-green-eyed-lady/
http://viewsplash.wordpress.com/2014/04/05/green-eyed-monster/
http://balidaily.wordpress.com/2014/04/05/me-and-the-money-saver/
http://seikaiha.wordpress.com/2014/04/05/daily-prompt-green-eyed-lady/
http://sistasertraline.wordpress.com/2014/04/05/daily-prompt-green-eyed-lady-shiny-happy-people/
http://vmtranblog.wordpress.com/2014/04/06/daily-prompt-green-eyed-lady/
http://fingerlike.wordpress.com/2014/04/07/daily-prompt-green-eyed-lady/
http://manmadeoceans.wordpress.com/2014/04/07/green-eyed-lady/
http://anawnimiss.wordpress.com/2014/04/08/of-jealousy/
http://wildandfreeandme.wordpress.com/2014/04/09/green-eyed-monster/
http://fieldofthorns.wordpress.com/2014/04/09/fille-fatale/
http://wangsgard.com/post/self-defeating-beliefs-23374/
https://livingonchi.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/daily-prompt-fimb/
https://twmnk.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/zebras/
https://designersophisticate.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/was-that-sugarloafs-only-hit/
http://psychologistmimi.com/2015/05/08/competition-revs-me-up-haiku-and-aspiration/
http://clipsandsnippets.com/2015/05/08/a-double-mistake/
https://cakeandconcrete.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/concrete-cakes-dont-get-envious/
https://tombalistreri.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/jealous-guy/
https://funland5000.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/daily-prompt-green-eyed-lady/
https://monicleblog.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/envious/
https://lindaswritingblog.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/jealousy-isnt-pretty/
https://kimberlystreff10.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/green-eyed-lady/
https://jennyahlers17.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/jealousy/
http://teepee12.com/2015/05/08/dont-covet-your-neighbors-ass/
https://dragoneystory.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/known-2/
https://thelonerose.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/wishing-for-what-i-cant-have/
https://marthakennedy.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/9167/
https://standinginacorner.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/shades-of-envy/
http://aportiaadamsadventure.com/2015/05/08/portias-green-eyed-lady/
https://jaysnaps.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/green/
http://dorothychiotti.com/2015/05/08/green-eyed-misery/
https://raspberrydaydreams.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/jealous-kitty/
https://reallifeunscripted.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/crash-and-burn/
https://locolivia.wordpress.com/2015/05/09/the-lady-with-semi-green-eyes/
https://nonsmokingladybug.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/the-blue-eyed-lady/
https://yzhengblog.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/jealousy/
http://antonwillseve.com/2015/05/08/i-wish-i-could-do-that/
https://vexingpoint.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/daily-prompt-green-eyed-lady/
http://geekergosum.com/2015/05/08/you-have-it-already-or-green-eyed-lady/
http://theflavoredword.com/2015/05/08/i-have-thunder-thighs-jealous/
https://debooworks.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/standing-out/
https://flowersandbreezes.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/doesnt-matter/
https://rpmas.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/i-cant-afford-resentment/
https://unbolt.wordpress.com/2015/02/16/envy/
https://theyyouandme.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/my-old-people/
http://angloswiss-chronicles.com/2015/05/08/daily-prompt-green-eyed-lady-i-should-not-be-here/
https://myleviathan.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/jealousy/
https://robswritings.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/may-8-green-eyed-lady/
https://grieflessons.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/the-dance/
http://angloswiss-cat-chronicles.com/2015/05/08/daily-feline-prompt-green-eyed-feline/
https://dailymusing57.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/the-grass-isnt-always-greener/
https://waynemullane.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/daily-prompt-things-that-make-me-jealous-top-five/
http://www.bukkhead.com/blog/2015/05/08/i-a-go-with-the-flow-kinda-guy-dont-have-enough-passion-to-be-jealous/
https://awordadventure.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/green-eyed-lady-parenthood/
https://writingandreadingashobbies.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/green-eyed-lady/
http://www.inspiringmax.com/joy-not-jealousy/
https://lekhamisra.wordpress.com/2015/05/09/the-veil/
https://luckyestgirlever.wordpress.com/2015/05/09/may-8-green-eyed-lady/
https://bluejbluej.wordpress.com/2015/05/09/dandelions-and-marigolds/
https://lauzlau.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/birds-eye-view/

To The People I Met in College


(Four Stars

Write a review of your life — or the life of someone close to you — as if it were a movie or a book.)

While having lunch, someone posed the question ‘Where would we be five ten years from now?’

None of us could answer, but that got me thinking.

If the Mayur of 2011 would meet the Mayur of 2015, he would neither recognize nor believe that this is what the next four years of college would hold for him.

I was shy. Unfriendly, friendless, alone and yes scared. To come to a college that resided in a society that’s way above my normal social standards! I still remember the gooseflesh I had on the very first day, I reached college at around 7.30 am for a 8 am lecture. I met my first classmate that day.

The college magazine photoshoot took place the other day. There is my class! All of us grinning, happy for this photo of our class that we would always have(I would!)

I imagined sitting in my class/lab 306 and bantering. Laughing. Writing assignments. Cursing and laughing again. And then thought about what will we do tomorrow.

And it hit me, maybe tomorrow(literal sense) we won’t be in that lab.

And I realized that day, the college is just a step away from being ‘Present’ to being ‘Past’. That ‘I am going to college’ would soon become ‘I was going to college’. The imminent end is here.

Coming to Dadar I met a senior. Passed out last year she is looking for a new job. She hates it. She misses college. She misses the routine of college.

Okay, here it goes:

If I could sum up my college experience it’s this: The people I met here. Its my parents who pushed me to come here, my brother who supported me.

You!

The memories I shared with you all, some made digital, some forever lost in the grooves of my head.

YOU MADE ME REACH HERE!

EITHER BY SUPPORTING ME, or by enraging me.

I ate with you or most probably I ravaged your lunch.

I laughed with you. I laughed on you, you laughed on me. I teased you, you teased me back.

I sang with you, I danced with you.

I consoled you when you were down. You consoled me when I was down.

I never refused to help you when you asked, I never stopped begging for help because half the times I was helpless.

Most importantly I spoke with you. Had lengthy or transiting conversations with you. I got to know you. Glad that I got to know you.

My college is you:

EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU.

Even if I just say hi to you while walking on the stairs, I’ll remember you.

I’ll remember the one liners you spoke, I’ll remember the hi fives and the bear hugs.

I’ll remember the times I laughed so hard my stomach ached.

I’ll remember the times I got so angry on you that I wanted to just kill you.

I’ll remember the fights I had with you. I’ll remember the fights we watched happening and wished we had popcorn.

I’ll remember you.

So if a long time from now we meet, I’ll grin in recognition because you mattered.

Thank you for all the memories. Thank you for the lessons both taught wittingly and unwittingly.

I’m not good with changes, never liked goodbyes.

Maybe I’ll lose contact, but you have my email, you know me on Facebook. Contact me, I’ll reply.

I’ll be happy to.

I’ll miss this routine.

I’ll miss the familiarity.

I’ll miss you.

Thank you for the four years. I’m glad I got the experience.

While everyone keeps saying and tagging their pictures #onelasttime I would rather say #TillNextTime

Thanks For Reading
Itsmayurremember

Let’s see what others have written:

https://tulisanmaddy.wordpress.com/2015/04/21/the-review/
http://hummingsfromparadise.com/2015/04/20/an-emotional-triumph/
https://pokergoddess.wordpress.com/2015/04/20/best-cinematography/
https://verseherder.wordpress.com/2015/04/20/we-are-all-made-of-sawdust/
https://dragoneystory.wordpress.com/2015/04/20/path/
http://www.destinary.com/2015/04/20/beyond-the-sea/
https://nicholacmassey.wordpress.com/2015/04/20/four-stars/
https://salihinyacob.wordpress.com/2015/04/20/four-stars-for-life/
https://adarkworldinside.wordpress.com/2015/04/20/is-such-a-life-enough/
https://lauzlau.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/once-upon-a-life/
https://heleneparish.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/beyond-the-sea/
http://californiaurbanite.com/review-of-my-life/
https://helenmeikle.wordpress.com/2015/04/20/daily-prompt-lifes-a-beach/
https://avenueaesthetics.wordpress.com/2015/03/26/avenue-aesthetics-whats-new-in-esthetics-in-alberta/
http://jonathanwrogers.com/2015/04/19/a-life-and-death-story/
https://nelkumi.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/my-life-in-review/
https://kurtengel18.wordpress.com/2015/04/20/rating-without-stars/
http://mirthandmotivation.com/2015/04/19/reflections-what-are-we-feeding-our-children/
https://avenueaesthetics.wordpress.com/2015/03/30/whats-up-in-alberta-aesthetics-keeping-it-clean-and-healthy-for-all/
https://hometogo232.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/daily-post-four-stars/
http://soulnspiritblog.com/2015/04/20/five-photos-five-stories-challenge-a-date-with-langurs-day-1/
https://dragoneystory.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/before-2/
http://ireland-ms.com/2015/04/19/booksireland/
http://clipsandsnippets.com/2015/04/19/review-one-beleaguered-life/
https://iseeiseesaidme.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/four-stars-is-not-enough/
https://naveenwins.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/book-review-only-for-you/
http://lifeisgreat0.com/2015/04/19/love-and-war/
http://antonwillseve.com/2015/04/19/not-another/
https://saurab275.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/the-search/
https://reallifeunscripted.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/just-underneath/
https://flowersandbreezes.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/five-stars/
https://iseeiseesaidme.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/unmentionables/
https://myleviathan.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/the-nearly-man-2/
https://shameport.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/sunday/
https://yzhengblog.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/temporary-home/
http://geekergosum.com/2015/04/19/my-life-review-or-four-stars/
https://kretschmannland.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/four-stars-why-not-five/
https://grieflessons.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/the-long-road-four-landays-napowrimo-day-19/
https://thelonerose.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/four-stars/
http://angloswiss-cat-chronicles.com/2015/04/19/daily-feline-prompt-my-feline-life/
https://marthakennedy.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/love-story-opening/
https://kimaedwards.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/daily-prompt-four-stars/
https://alotfromlydia.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/a-lot-of-sweat/
https://agirllikemee.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/four-starred-review/
https://livingonchi.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/daily-prompt-the-loss/
https://inkhammer.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/sloggerhumps/
http://angloswiss-chronicles.com/2015/04/19/photos-and-stories-behind-them-the-cemetery-feldbrunnen/
https://509majesty.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/could-we-get-a-rewrite/
https://sudhasarathi61.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/i-know-the-truth-but-will-defy-willingly-and-knowingly/
http://teepee12.com/2015/04/19/5-photos-5-stories-spring-cleaning-day-3/
https://unbolt.wordpress.com/2014/10/05/a-doll/
https://tombalistreri.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/not-so-sober-tale/
https://vexingpoint.wordpress.com/2015/04/19/daily-prompt-four-stars/
http://cancerisnotpink.wordpress.com/2013/06/06/eddie-and-the-horses/
http://chetansanghani.wordpress.com/2013/06/10/daily-prompt-four-stars/
http://huntprayerpoems.wordpress.com/2013/06/10/daily-prompt-four-stars/
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On Writings


‘Mayur, you are a Writer!’

I remember school, over myriads of bad memories there, some few memories are ones which bring a smile to my face.

It was seventh grade when I wrote an essay and the teacher announced I had written the one which she loved the most. It was a simple one, in which I did nothing but describe Diwali (a Hindu festival).

I never wrote anything after that which gave me such rave but I never stopped trying.

Now I am sure I won’t be the only one who hates regional language subjects. I had to suffer Marathi. I have nothing against the dialect, I just always thought the coursework was obsolete. No one speaks such a language anymore!

And while I struggled to get my massive handwriting fit into the lines of the paper, to get the grammar and spellings correct, I had to write essays in Marathi too. One of my tuition teachers I will always remember encouraged us to write essays and submit it to her so she could give us feedback. And the feedback she gave

‘Mayur, you are a writer!’

I remember the look on her face, I remember the astonished faces of my classmates around me and most importantly I remember that small feeling of warmth spreading across my chest. I was proud even if my essay was full of incorrect errors, and the spellings would make my essay almost unintelligible, she understood what I wrote. She understood and she let me know I have scope. That I can write.

That was the push I will always have. The perfect motivation to pick up a pen and paper and pour my heart & soul into it. To write holding nothing back.

Around my twelfth grade I made two of the first best friends I could get. Ayush and Melvin. No matter how much I thank them it won’t be enough. While we were supposed to study and have sleepless nights being tensed, we wrote. All three of us. That was for me, my break from the entire hard work. We wrote stories, letters, poems and shared with others. I as usual brutally harassed them with my honesty. I have an imagination, reading books gave me more and more perspective.

And I kept writing after that. Ideas came to me a dime a dozen. Movies, TV shows, novels, songs, everything was my source of inspiration. Everything.

Today I have many who appreciate my writing. Some cry(like always) when they read my pieces. My blog. And then suddenly I got someone with whom I can share some of my ideas.

Someone who is also writing, which is nothing less than her life’s most primal fears. And she is sharing them with me. And I’m sharing my writing with her.

Words might make amends but to me, but it was my writing which strengthened bonds with others.

Thanks For Reading
Itsmayurremember