Category: Stuff

Blog for a Thought

Our minds are crazy. There’s so many fleeting thoughts everyday, every hour. Some we hold on to, some drive us nuts, some simply pass us by. Some days it feels like a miracle that we’re able to function at all, but I guess evolution took care of it. Of course it remains that some of us still have more problematic brains than others, but we do our best.

Today I was thinking about how little I’ve shared of my life in the past 6 months on social media. And how drafts have piled up in this website and have stayed in that folder. Somehow, I feel so much more comfortable sharing my sad thoughts here than happy ones.

I have full page drafts on how ecstatic I have been these past months (although I sprained my ankle 8 weeks ago and only started walking on two feet 2 weeks ago). But the only things I’ve shared on my Instagram page are pictures of me on crutches and my Ibuprofen (RIP, stomach). Nothing of my first time out in 6 weeks – the first thing I did was get in line at a Wendy’s drive-through where I’ve been a regular. Somehow I’ve become so conscious of folks judging my stuff, but specifically of them judging my happiness.

So here we are. A new blog for a new day. I’ll be posting stuff at https://athoughtadaydotcom.wordpress.com/ for a while now, mostly cos I don’t want to add journalesque posts on this website such that it gets cluttered in here.

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#25 Postcard – To be grateful for Life – All of It

Colbert says, But this is the only life we have. So how can you only be thankful for parts of it? You have to be thankful for all of it, you don’t get to pick and choose.

I am not sure what you call these sessions in therapy. But I was recently in the stage – and it’s so weird, I can’t tell you if it’s the stage of life or therapy or both – where I was identifying the origins of triggers. Driving is a very common trigger. The issue now is that there are times where I think, Oh that thing I wrote about 4 years ago – that obviously was a projection of something onto something or someone. Or that behavior I spoke about is really telling of something else. I am surprised nobody identified that or spoke to me about it, or did they?

I’m trying hard to answer what Anderson Cooper asked, Am I the person I was meant to be? Didn’t everything that ever happened affect who I am today? Don’t I need people to know that, a mark or a sign on my forehead that says I’m not who I was supposed to become?

To which Colbert replies, But you’re exactly the person you were meant to become.

I think that’s the only answer we know, I don’t think we know the true answer. His theory is that maybe in an alternate reality his father is still alive, he never had to be a parent to his mother, and maybe he’s happier in that version, but definitely different. Colbert says, But this is the only life we have. So how can you only be thankful for parts of it? You have to be thankful for all of it, you don’t get to pick and choose.
All I know is life is imperfect, kindness is hard to practice, especially to self, and I’m trying my best to be thankful for all of it.

#24 Postcard – Spring 2022 : PARADISE LOST.

Ugh, that word. When did she start using it? Virtually. For all practical purposes. Bottomline.

It was the later part of the shower and there was hair stuck between the butt. Long even when curled up – definitely came from the head. Add Get a trim to a new list maybe?

It feels so weird to not keep a list after so long. Maybe a visit to Portland would be nice, Portlandia was a good show and Fred Armisen is awesome. Come to think of it, even that guy is a sex addict and a cheater. People lose it when celebrities ask to be treated as humans, unless it’s Mithila Palkar.

Sunday loomed over her to the point that even Saturday shower turned dull. Of course it was still fun if she was out and about. But that was part of the problem. What about the inside? She was now one of those people she always had suspicions about – is there too much or too little going on in your head that you either can’t nor need to sit down with your thoughts?
Why didn’t the therapist hear about this?

There were two guys she was meeting, they didn’t know about each other but it didn’t matter. In this age of parents owning up to occasionally despising their little monsters and of loyal spouses that keep mind-whores, this was allowed right? RIGHT? They all begin with the same Any luck on the app? (nobody has met anyone nice ever, where are all the good folks?). Each one ends differently. That should be a writeup – a hundred ends to the same beginning. But really they all had the same abysmal end. Virtually.

Ugh, that word. When did she start using it? Virtually. For all practical purposes. Bottomline. Favored by ends-justify-means folks, invalidating experiences and events. Used often to draw comparisons, oftener to talk business, or to close with a ruthless fact. Virtually needs better contexts.
Why is the adverb so different from the adjective anyway?

There is a bit in John Mulaney’s standup – the one good thing coming to Texas this March – where he says I don’t even know what my body is for at this point, other than to carry my head from place to place.
Sounds about right. All the scrubbing, peeling, moisturizing, epilating and washing up only to carry a head from place to place seems absurd yet almost true. For dancers the body is their device so that would make sense. What was it to her at this point, anyway? And the body definitely couldn’t keep up with her mind.

Mulaney was 35 (and married) when that comedy special came out. 35 year old men regardless of their marital status shouldn’t be treated to an audience for their chaos, unless you’re Mulaney and/or funny. At least virtually.

A debacle in the Land of some Dreams

Note : They/their is singular in the writeup and to preserve identity

“Good morning! How ARE you?” That came out more cheery than I expected, staring at our names pasted on two adjacent rectangles on the screen.

“Not too good. Things aren’t so well in the family.” What? They’re American. Aren’t they supposed to know the Good morning-I’m good-How about you dance?

“Oh I’m sorry. I hope everything is fine.” Never intrusive. Always optimistic. Clearly ignoring the ill detail that was just shared aka would they like to modify their response? I’d nailed it by the book.
Don’t judge me, it wasn’t my book.

“Hmm I don’t think so.” – never thought I’d see a day of such candor and yet here we were. Why wasn’t B joining the call and why was I held hostage to this slight overshare, a definite inconvenience in the first world?

“It’s been a while, I don’t think it’ll be fine soon”. Don’t get me wrong, I did feel sorry for this person. But that was overpowered by the time they said my faulty audio sounded like I was in a tin can, and such other misplaced passive-aggressiveness.
It’s always them behind the bad attitude and never your internet. That shit hasn’t changed since high school.

I was reminded then of that introvert who took a job in Netherlands and moved there to avoid small talk. While here the small talk was elevated to medium talk, it felt good and uncomfortable at the same time, and I hoped I’d never subjected anyone to such discomfort.

Who was I kidding?

And whose book is it anyway?

Highs and lows – 2020

Share your high/low : : https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/LT8G2HJ

Share your story! : https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/LT8G2HJ (all submissions are anonymous)

I just read yesterday that one of my favorite comedians has checked into rehab after he relapsed into drug abuse during the pandemic. I know many including myself who have been seeking help for general distress over this year but reading about his episode, I briefly reflected on my own low lows this year. The one I have mentioned in the survey was for some mind-numbing reasons (again, not proud) and after reading about the incident I realized that may have been my lowest. Maybe I’ll write about it soon.

Do you have a high or a proud moment from 2020 that you’d like to share, or a low? My proudest might just be getting out sane after the long-ass year this was while being away from friends and family, but specifics are very welcome! No other reason except I like to hear from people, this year was hard for everyone, and human spirit/resilience is usually cause for awe.

Chapter 2 : A dance to onlookers, a decade long story for the kid

In twelfth standard, a classmate asked me why I started dancing only in tenth. It was true. In school.
If there’s anything life’s taught me, it’s to never assume.

(I have so many Chapter 2 drafts and they are not even remotely close in their content, but I feel like writing right now, so A Dancing Child it will be.)

In twelfth standard, a classmate asked me why I started dancing only in tenth standard. It was true. In school.

I spent a major part of my childhood believing I was talentless. I wrote in my diary everyday and I danced spontaneously to songs when they played, and if I was in a crowd I danced in my head. And I believed that everybody wrote, and that everybody danced. Or at least that they could if they wanted to, and I was merely one of the many that put it to practice.

(Also talented people were ubiquitous at my school).

Sometime when I was thirteen I started writing satirical pieces and participating in essay competitions. I had a few classmates, friends and teachers tell me I was good and I believed them. Better than the class average, I believed.

Dancing though was a different story altogether.

Back home I had been dancing since I was a kid to anything that was on TV or on my brother’s walkman, and later on the phone – I was resourceful in making do with the little space in our bedrooms. And when Amma was away I’d sneak into her consulting room to dance. From age thirteen or so I have danced regularly at home (I still do.) But I was extremely shy at school – mostly because I didn’t think I was any good.

From ages ten to fifteen, I painfully watched kids dance on stage as youth festivals passed me by. Painful because I secretly did believe I could be up there (albeit shrouded in self-doubt), yet I couldn’t muster enough confidence (nor work out the logistics that would have entailed if it came to that) to try. I saw parents – mostly moms- dressing the girls up, mine were both working and probably couldn’t care less (indeed I looked at those mothers in short-lived awe and harmless envy).
It was all good since I still participated in other stuff even if I was hardly talented in them, and whenever I saw dance practice sessions I’d tell myself I probably wasn’t a good dancer anyway, yet I couldn’t but longingly steal glances.

During our eighth standard Christmas party, our whole class was dancing and I could finally indulge in active comparison – I remember thinking Hey I‘m quite good at this. Maybe I didn’t want to be proven wrong, but maybe I was just shy.
The next year, auditions for Senior Group Dance were held in my classroom. I remember I was miserably seated on the second last bench with my friends watching the auditions, pretending I had no stakes and no inclination. I vividly remember thinking “I’m pretty sure I’m as good as these kids. Or am I?”
Well, no big deal if I don’t dance another year. I’d take part in drama and group song and other stuff that needed minimal individual talent. I still don’t get how I was okay with singing/acting auditions – which I knew I wasn’t any good at – but not dancing, Maybe it’s true I didn’t want to be proven wrong about my dancing skills.

I didn’t dance that year.

Finally tenth standard came. I remember waiting for the September youth festival from when school began in June, bringing myself up to enroll for the dance, then to show up at the audition. At each stage I strongly considered backing out, and half-hoped and half-feared some mix-up would happen and that they’d never get my name or follow up for auditions.
I remember feeling relieved when I could finally learn those audition steps – as I had suspected I was quite good. Good enough, anyway.

It was a huge deal, preceded by years of self-doubt, and of watching friends and juniors and seniors onstage, years of convincing myself that I wasn’t any good but also guarding my own insecurity.

But when she asked Why did you begin dancing only in 10th? and I saw what I suspected to be an almost unkind snigger, I was taken aback. Should I tell her the story? I wasn’t going to, I was fiercely private.

One small step for onlookers, one decade long story for the kid.

I couldn’t comprehend her intentions and I remember pausing and responding with a confused silence which was all I could gather, and which may have been all it deserved at that point, teen-to-teen. But if there’s anything my life has taught me, it is to never assume.

From class 12 – This was Baby by Justin Bieber, choreographed by Laya and me. For those interested, four house teams participated one of them was disqualified, and we came third. 😛

Read college dance stuff here.

Chapter 1: An Apology

There is a salty, greasy yet safe taste of blood that discharges into your mouth from a falling tooth. Ages 8 – 12? I can’t even remember when I lost my teeth.

But the taste is distinct. It’s different from say when you bite your teeth into your inner cheek, or the taste of other kinds of blood for whatever reason in your mouth. It’s okay and you aren’t alarmed because like they say, it’s natural and expected. I even went poking in with my tongue into the tooth cavities at times. Strange.

So maybe you will understand it when I tell you you wouldn’t know exactly what it was if you didn’t really lose any of your teeth. I could explain it to you as a teeth-loser, as salty and bloody yet not quite so much as blood; and you’d maybe tell me You’d try to imagine it. But we both know you couldn’t taste it if you wanted to.

That’s probably how the difference between feelers and non-feelers could be described. Imagine tangy with a bit of spice. Sure. Maybe imagine even blood while we’re at it. But feelers vs non-feelers is just harder. It’s probably why I can imagine that somebody is way too touchy. I cannot for the life of me imagine how it might be though – maybe it’s just one of those things.
It’s also why I don’t ask sad kids to smile, because growing up I was a sad kid who was asked by too many people to smile.

And this is an apology to all people who feel too much, on behalf of those who wave off your concerns lightly. I don’t know why it’s here, maybe it’s really just an apology to myself, but it’s here for anyone who needs it. 🙂

Visitor note

Dear Person from Germany who drops in every Second day,

I don’t know who you are but I hope you’re doing good. I’m assuming it’s just the one person from Germany because I don’t know many there, and your visits appear solitary but regular. And I don’t know if you’re homesick or you just happen to like my writing but I’m sorry I don’t update more often (God knows I’d like to).

Have a nice day and thanks for passing by.

Blog Update #1 – Sunshine Blogger Award

Miss Shodha had nominated me for the Sunshine Blogger Award back in February 2017. Actually it is Shwetha, spelt Shweta but isn’t Shodha so much better? (I’ve called her that since school).
She writes tiny tales, poetry, and literally ‘anything under the sun that has caught her attention’. This might be a good time to mention that I almost immediately get to know when she has read a post of mine, because my phone hangs up from the deluge of notifications. It’s time to return the favor 😛 – check out her blog My Random Ramblings. 😀

Anyway, if any of my readers (especially non-blogger friends) find the idea of virtual awards in the blogosphere ridiculous, it almost is. (An award would be nothing but a picture you would have to copypaste from your friend’s Award Post onto your own Acknowledgement post. Like so : sunshine-award1.jpg

Thankyou Shodha for this picture (yet another attempt at murdering my phone), and for neglecting my neglect and nominating me for a second Award. I loved answering your questions 😀

But then the idea is networking and references (linking back) and the like, you get the point, so it falls short at almost.

The Rules.

  • Thank the person(s) who nominated you in a blog post and link back to their blog
  • Answer the 11 questions sent by the person who nominated you
  • Nominate 11 new blogs to receive the award and write them 11 new questions
  • List the rules and display the Sunshine Blogger Award logo on your post and/or on your blog

Shodha’s Questions :

1. Do you remember why and when you decided to be a blogger?

Of course I remember. I also wrote a post about it just in case the blog ruined my life and I couldn’t recollect whose fault it was.

2. If it were so that you can listen to just one song on repeat for the rest of your life, which song would you choose?

Velikku Veluppan Kaalam or Neeraduvan.

3. Which Hogwarts house do you think you would be sorted out into? (Sorry if you aren’t a Harry Potter fan! 😛 I had to pay homage to my favourite book series! :D)

Ravenclaw 😀

4. Who is your favourite author?

Confession : After Paulo Coelho back in 8th, I haven’t followed any author/series religiously. But Khaled Hosseini can make anyone cry, so.

5. Which famous person do you wish you could be neighbours with?

Sherlock Holmes.

6. If you could bring a fictional character to life, who would it be? (Also, please do explain the reason why you chose them!)

Sherlock Holmes. Then be neighbors with him. Then ask Professor Watson if I can work with him on his blog.
I (too) hate myself for saying that, let’s not sabotage the plot.

7. If your blog had a playlist, what songs would be included?

Despacito, Iris, The Middle, Hawa Hawai, An Irish Party in Middle Class, Pinneyum Pinneyum, Love you Zindagi, Tonight I know, Up & Up, Hymn for the Weekend, Chinna Chinna Asai, Budapest, Hey Soul Sister, Did I Take this Question too Seriously?

8. Do you have a favourite book-to-film adaptation? If so, which one?

Any adaptation that I liked was only because I read the book after watching the movie, or because I never read the book I think. I can watch Chamber of Secrets over and over cos of the former.

9. If the world were to end tomorrow, what would you do today?

1.Have a panic attack
2.Remember everyone’s dying so it’s alright
3.Gather my family, which might take a while since it’s a big one now
4.Ring up friends one by one to tell them I was off Whatsapp during the last couple of months, sorry for no messages, I love you.
OH that was a good one, Shodha.

10. Name your favourite TV show and at least two reasons as to why you think it’s awesome.

I hardly watch any these days, so favorite YouTuber? Ryan Higa. Original content. Doesn’t post bullshit even if that means losing out on views(=ads=revenue).

11. What’s your greatest fear?

You know the incidents you feel guilty about thinking they were your fault? And you have nightmares about them? Just me? Okay. Greatest fear is coming to know they’re true.

I nominate :

Nipun – Road to Roadblock

Anu

Frank Prem

Laya – My Black Rusted Harp

Owning a dog with anxiety

Niall O’ Donnell

Sunith – Perceptions

InspiresN

My Questions:

1. Is there a country you have always wanted to visit, and if so, where?

2. What do you do on a rainy day?

3. What is your favorite book, or if you prefer, your favorite author?

4. What four people would you invite to a dinner party (contemporary, historical, or fictional)?

5. If you could live in a book/tv show/movie, which one would you pick and why?

6. How did you start blogging?

7. What’s the story behind your blog name?

8. If you could talk to your younger self, what would you say?

9. Is there anything you would change/delete from your past?

10. Do you play an instrument?

11. If the world were to end tomorrow, what would you do today?

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