Wednesday, December 9, 2015

Macintosh

HEY!
YOU!
YES, YOU!

Who are you?


Dear anonymous person,

I know that you are reading this from somewhere in the U.S. and I know that you're using chrome on a Mac.
Okay, I literally know nothing else about you.  o_o
Dude, who are youuu?


Please tell me.

P.S.- Ooh, while we're at it. Who's up at 3 in the morning on my blog?

-V



*This will be super awkward if it's just some stat engine*

Mockingbirds and Mockingjays

On Saturday, I finally picked up 'To Kill a Mockingbird' off of my shelf. Seeing as I have my finals, this seemed the perfect way to procrastinate.

My timing with this book has never been right. I'd checked this book out from my library once and kept getting it renewed for about a month but never even opened the book or read the blurb. I was too busy to even look in its direction. I ended up returning it untouched.
Then a couple months ago, I was at the book market and ending up getting an amazing book haul. 'To Kill a Mockingbird' caught my eye and into my basket it went.

Truth time:
I haven't been reading the types of  books that I should be reading. I stopped reading books that actually challenged me, moved me or made me think. For the last couple of years, I've limited myself to light, fluffy reads and middle-grade novels. There's no excitement in reading a book where you know all the words.
I've actually read more riveting books when I was in middle school. (Given that I actually had an amazing library at school in America and don't really have the means to get good books now.)

But this novel is amazing. It has awakened my slumbering mind and is giving it the perfect exercise. Harper Lee is truly 'an author with the liveliest sense of life and the warmest, most authentic humor'. This book demands my attention and for once I want to give it completely.
With the year coming to an end, I've made a resolution. To read books that inspire me and challenge me. To read books with words that make me open a dictionary and learn learn learn.


I am sucked into this story and it's unfortunate that I can't give it as much time as I'd like to.
Even now, I'm writing this when I should be studying.
Bye for now.
:)


Monday, December 7, 2015

Deserving

Some moments are imprinted in my mind. 

The other day, I was sitting at the pooja mandir and praying to God about my toils and troubles.
I was teary-eyed and dejected. Nothing seemed to be going right and I felt like I was worthless. I tightly shut my eyes and tried to meditate upon the lord.
When I opened my eyes, I saw how blind I was.

In front of me, I saw three things most people search all their life for. I saw God's idol, a wad of my allowance money and a report card saying I passed in first class.
Three wonderful things. I have faith, money and education. What more could I want? What more SHOULD I want?

I smiled with tears in my eyes because in that moment, I remembered that God always gives me more than I deserve. My immaterial wants and wasteful wishes are about my foolish first word 'problems'.

So I closed my eyes and prayed even more.
I prayed that I become ever more faithful and kindhearted as the days go by. I prayed that I should be able to place others needs before mine. I prayed to always be at God's feet. I prayed that I should never forget this moment.
       I prayed that I should become more deserving of the wonderful gifts being given to me.


We're all so caught up in the bad times that we forget to be thankful for the good.



P.S. You don't need to believe in God to be thankful. Take a moment to think about what wonderful things you feel lucky to have.








Thursday, December 3, 2015

A Mess

I want to be meant for great things. Even if that's not what life has planned for me.

 No. Actually, I'd like to go about my life without knowing what's in store for me. See, I have this habit of making a mess of things when I know the end game.
That right there is the wonderful thing about life. No matter how much you think you know what will happen, you'll always be missing something.

I absolutely hate regrets and go out of my way to remind myself of this. Why? Because I do have regrets. Terrifyingly, ginormous regrets that I wish I could take back. But you know what stops me from saying, 'I wish I hadn't....' or 'I wish I could change that....'?

All of those decisions were little tests for me and I can't take back the way I 'answered them'. There are no remedial tests in life. There are bonus tests to take but no redoes. [Definitely not in the conventional way]

Every single decision I've made in my life has led up to this moment and all future decisions will lead up to the end.
Sometimes it seems like I'm justifying my mistakes but in a rather confusing way, I'm not.

If I had done things differently, who would I have become? That parallel universe me would not be ME. Hey, I'm not the sum of my mistakes, but I sure as hell am not the sum of my triumphs.

Life is like an invisible house maid. As I go about making a mess of things, it's always there, cleaning up after me.

There's this one line from A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson (A book that I still haven't gotten around to finishing. But that is a story for another day.)
I can't remember it exactly but it was about everything that had to go right in order for you to be breathing right now.
//I'm having a tough time not being able to find that line from the book so I'll just share two other quotes.*

“Not one of your pertinent ancestors was squashed, devoured, drowned, starved, stranded, stuck fast, untimely wounded, or otherwise deflected from its life's quest of delivering a tiny charge of genetic material to the right partner at the right moment in order to perpetuate the only possible sequence of hereditary combinations that could result -- eventually, astoundingly, and all too briefly -- in you.”

“It is a slightly arresting notion that if you were to pick yourself apart with tweezers, one atom at a time, you would produce a mound of fine atomic dust, none of which had ever been alive but all of which had once been you.” 


Do you know how lucky I am to be lazy? I am somewhat of a perfectionist (stress on somewhat). Sometimes I find it hard to do anything until everything is in order or neat and clean. I have these little quirks like I 'can't do this before I do that' and it really doesn't make much sense.
If I wasn't so lazy, I would constantly be stressing over every minute detail of my life. 



So thanks, life. If it wasn't for you, I'd be a complete mess.



*Did I just use // to write a comment like in coding? What's happening to me?
Also, if you'd like to read the book: GoodReads

Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Ramble Ramble

Emotions are beautiful.
Sometimes you can barely contain them and other times you have to search the depths of your soul to actually feel something.
A million butterflies battle in my stomach. Dang frog in my throat.
Cat's got your tongue.
When did we begin to devour animals as an excuse to draw away from our inability to speak and feel.
By the time my brain and heart begin to agree, there's a new topic of discussion.
Digesting butterflies is unusually difficult.




It's been a while since I've just randomly wrote something without restriction. Music always pumps me up. Brought to you by On My Mind by Ellie Goulding.

Here's more rambling:

It's criminal the way I feel sparks at my fingertips. That feeling when the words build up in my mind and ache to be let go of.
My heart pumps out letters and carries it like electricity through my bloodstream. 
I could have burned you to the ground but I put it down on paper- to save a life or two.

Thursday, September 3, 2015

Paperback vs. E-book

Do you have any idea how nice it feels to hold a book in your hands? Those milky white pages and beautiful fonts are a sight for sore eyes. That musty smell or that fresh paper one! If I could match the word cozy with an odor, this would be it. There's a sense of satisfaction when I can feel the pile of pages in my left hand growing and the one in my right shrinking.
Then we have the e-books. Long hours of squinting at my little phone and blinking away tears from my burning eyes. The lurking possibility of eye damage just a stone's throw away. Those repeated calculations of how far I've gotten in the book, as compared to the actual book count. (because I must know exactly how much of I've read of the original book)*
I despise the long hours of swiping at the screen which comes no where close to flipping pages and having a stiff thumb. Let's not forget the fact that I actually got glasses because I ended up binge-reading for an entire month on the laptop.

Sadly, studies show that readers absorb less on e-readers than physical copies. This is absolutely true. I know it first hand! (Believe me, my memory power capabilities are poor regardless of the book reading medium I'm using). But alas, I don't have the convenience of being able to buy books as fast as I read them. Nor do I have a library (of any kind) anywhere near my locality. So all I have to settle for is the fifty or so, odd books in my house that I've read multiple times and one measly cabinet of half-filled shelves from college. I don't have friends who read books so no one I know owns a decent novel. **
So unless there is rich benefactor out there who is willing to sponsor my book reading hobbies, I must settle for e-books. The next time you try to start a 'E-books vs. Physical Copies' battle, just try to put yourself in their shoes. We don't all have the luxury to buy books whenever we want to so we must settle for what we can get. If I were to be adamant about physical books (like I used to), I'd end up only ever reading my college textbooks.

In the end, I'll always favor a 'book book' over an e-book. But until I grow older and get a decent job, I'll have to settle for virtual reading.

The E-book vs. Physical Copies battle is a completely acceptable 'battle' but let's not take it too far and bash on others. We all enjoy reading and each person prefers something different. Let's just put aside our differences and try to remember that we are in fact reading the same stories; no matter the medium.

P.S. If I could, I'd build libraries everywhere in the world and abolish e-books. But that is just a pipe dream.


*In case you have no idea what I'm talking about, let me give you an example. Let's say you're reading The Time Machine by H.G. Wells. The pdf copy on your phone is 73 pages but Goodreads says the actual book has 118. So I do the following calculation:
number of pages I've read/ 73=e-percentage read (E.P.R)
(E.P.R) x 118= actual number of pages that I've read (if I had the physical copy)

This is the only satisfaction I can manage.


**On a side note, if one more person tells me that they have a Chetan Bhagat book when I ask them about their book collection, I will die.
No offense to the author, I just don't like his work. 

Sunday, June 21, 2015

Childhood Dreams

She came to me in a dream and left in the arms of nightmare.
 I was a mess of paper boats and blushing cheeks. 
 wet tar and twigs to poke.
tousled hair and baseball hats
She wore the sun like a halo.

I said girls don't skateboard, she proved me wrong. 
the ice cream man and  pinky promises
adolescence and bravado 
high school and empty promises 
I held my diploma in my hand and her in my heart. 
an indian summer. one stupid party
application letters and broken promises.
the rain poured down the day she left.


i said we were forever, she proved me wrong. 




childhood dreams shattered on the pavement. 


brought to you by:
Wait for me by Motopony

Saturday, May 23, 2015

Rereading My Blogposts

Okay. Hi.

I've been putting this off since forever because it's so embarrassing. Phew. Okay. Let's do this.
I usually check my page views every once in a while. Though I won't be able to tell who's reading, I can tell what's being read (if you didn't know).
Sometimes I read through what you guys are reading and  let me be honest, it's cringe-worthy.
This blog is a weird fusion of personal journal, random explanations and ranting.
It's bound to be crazy. And it is!
So this is a little reminder to myself and to whoever is reading that most of my old posts are actually incredibly stupid. I used to be a very troubled girl who had no idea what she was doing with her life.
Whatever I have written was basically brain vomit.
There might be some good stuff but majority is crap.

I always stop myself from deleting it all because though I was stupid, I was fortunate enough (and still am) to have an amazing family. They have quite literally pulled me out of the quicksand and cleaned me up. I do believe I have improved over the last couple of years and hope to become even better.

I have never been one to maintain a good journal or diary because I never remember to and mostly blank out over what to write about.
But this blog here is somehow still existing. It's like my brain is making an unconscious attempt at keeping track of my life and what I've went through to be who I am today.

NOTE: This is mostly to myself for when I reread this post:
Stop feeling so bad about yourself. The past is in the past. Leave it be. Be glad that you're able to see the big picture now. It would have been worse if you kept going on like you were back then and realized a little too late. The fact that you are cringing at teen you is actually pretty good. :P It means you indeed have changed. :)

And to my viewers, I always hope to help people through this blog and connect with you all. I hope you find purpose in your life and feel at ease knowing that there are others still finding themselves.

Have a great day!

-V


P.S. You guys never comment and I feel like I'm talking to ghosts.
Who's from U.S.A and Europe? I get a LOT of viewers from over there. 

Sunday, May 17, 2015

Old Age Home

I went to an old age home a couple of days ago, for the first time in my life. It's just a couple of streets down from my house.
There was an old cocker spaniel in the vicinity of the home, kept chained up. It started barking when we arrived and it looked so weak.
When we walked inside the first thing that hit me was the smell. It was a foul. I felt extremely uncomfortable and upon seeing an elderly woman lying on a table towards the end of the room- with wires hooked up to her, I just couldn't bear to stand there.
I headed back outside to get my bearings. I told myself that what I was worried about didn't really matter. So I went back in.

There were six people in all: four downstairs and two upstairs. The woman sitting closest to the door looked very ill and her nightie was a mess. She told my Mom that she'd like some juice when asked if she needed anything. Her mannerisms were so innocent and child-like as she signaled 'juice' by putting her thumb to her mouth. She mentioned some type of fruit juice but it has slipped my mind.
When Mom and Grandma moved on to speak with the other elderly folk, the juice lady called me towards her. Her speech was slightly fuddled and her hearing a little impaired. I noticed that the staff had to raise their voices to speak to her so I did the same.
She asked me if Mom was my mother or sister and then where I was from. I told her we lived nearby. Then she asked if I had any siblings and I told her I had a little sister. For a couple of seconds she didn't say anything. I smiled and just stood there
She suddenly took my hand. I thought she would hold it but instead she kissed the back of my hand.
This small gesture drove me to tears. I tried my best to hold them in.
I felt so sad to see them like that and prayed to God that I would study well and get a good job so I could take care of more people like her.
Another woman told us that even though she had a daughter and son in-law (or was it the other way around) it didn't make much of a difference because they never visited.
I had an image in my mind of her as a young woman raising her child. How would she have felt to know that child would grow up and leave her in an old age home?

My problem with people who put their parents in homes like this is that they don't even bother to visit.

I try not to think the worst of people. So I tried to reason with what these people (who put these elderly in homes) might have been going through. Okay, maybe they don't have financial stability to take care of their needs. Maybe they have a housing problem or in-laws problem.
Hmm.
Okay, I can understand a situation in which you do not have the means to take care of them.

But what next?

You just leave them there?!

They are humans too. You can't just dump them there and go on with your life. It doesn't hurt you or your pocket to visit them. They are your parents after all,  not strangers!



Anyway, there was also a blind old man who looked frail. He barely had any skin on his bones. When asked what he wanted from us, he replied that they would accept anything that we gave. (:

All in all, I'm glad I finally visited an old age home. We will be headed back next month with food and clothes. (From the Charitable trust I work for)

Sunday, May 3, 2015

Feel

On the run from the monsters in my head.
There's a shaking in my bones.
Everything's breaking free.
Fingernails on a chalkboard.
They're too loud.
My eyes roll back into my head.
I'll do anything to feel.
Stop the voices inside my head.
Stop the itch under my skin.
I want to feel something to real.


Brought to you by: "Itch" by Nothing But Thieves
A writing exercise for writeworld.tumblr.com

Locked Away

Skeleton fingers running across a piano.
We all look nice in a grave.
Tucked away, six feet under.
Locked away, inside our rib-cages.
Your hand's in a fist,
my mind's a wreck.
The darkness never scared me.
But the darkness in you does. 
We've always been locked away.
But you threw out the key. 



Brought to you by: "Werewolf Heart" by Dead Man's Bones
A writing exercise for writeworld.tumblr.com

Let Go


My insides are dancing. Begging to be let go of.
Save me, why don't you save me?
We're all so tired.
I'm the only one that's left.
My mind's a swirl of colors.
Darling, aren't you hurting?
How can you bear to see me like this?
We'll paint the black canvas with our minds.
But, why can't you save me?
Let me go. Let me go.
We're running in circles.
Drowning in myself.
Why don't you save me?



Brought to you by: "State of Affairs" by Kan Wakan
A writing exercise for writeworld.tumblr.com

Last Year as a Teenager

Hello There!

It's been a while, hasn't it?!
How are you all?
Do you know what today is?
It's my birthday!
My sister wished me when the clock struck 12 and I dozed off a couple of seconds after. Bright and early in the morning, my Mother wished me and then Grandma handed me my first gift while I was still half asleep. (Hehe)
Then I got up and got dressed to go to Panjagutta.
Ooh. Forgot to tell you. I'm working for a Charitable Trust now. It's amazing! I finally have the chance to give back to the world and it's very fulfilling. Since it was my birthday, we funded a small food donation outside of a government hospital in the city. We must have fed over a hundred people. I'm really happy that I got to spend money on something meaningful this time. Our trust's dress code is white, so I wore this new patiala/kurta combo.
After the donation, we headed back to Aunt's house to have our second meeting for PCT. (___Charitable Trust)  We discussed today's agenda about assisting two little girls' educations and providing groceries for a woman's marriage.
I love that they are all so careful about spending the money in the right way and I'm thrilled to be a part of something so special.
Then I changed into my birthday dress and cut the cake.
I can't believe I'm 19 years old already.
This is truly bizarre. I have one year left as a teenager and then the terrifying twenties.
I feel blessed to have such an amazing family and have so many people looking out for me.

Watching people donate for the charity, gift each other on occasions and just do small acts of kindness with money they earned makes me eager to have my own job someday and give back to everyone.
I'm waiting for the day when I can place some hard earned bills into the cash box for charities like this.



I miss blogging. My spirit lifted while I was typing and this and I didn't think it was possible to be any happier. :)


I hope my last year as a teenager will be memorable.
To new beginnings and sweet endings.
:)

Thursday, February 12, 2015

Results Time

1. When someone tells you "Results are today" NO they are not. You have no way of guaranteeing that, so shush.


            




2. You unintentionally eavesdrop into conversations when you hear the word 'results' or 'backlogs'. But it's kind of awkward because you ARE eavesdropping.

                                  


3. You keep refreshing the website every five seconds even though you know it just won't happen. Your friends keep telling you to leave it but you're certain it'll come up any second.


                               



4. You keep asking people what the cut off is. 
-
                      



5. They will never upload it when we expect them to. They'll just appear out of nowhere and everyone will freak out. 

                   17 Things Everyone Waiting For Exam Results Will Understand


 6. When the server crashes with too many people using the website.



                             



 7. When you're friend clears all his/her subjects but you flunked. But you still have to be happy for them.



                   


8. When your friend flunks but you did well and you feel bad for them but also happy for yourself.

                                   





9. When that one friend who swore that they'd get a backlog actually clears all the subjects.

                 



10. When someone gets one of the highest scores in class but is still complaining and whining.


                  


11. Trying to act like you haven't seen your scores.

               


12. Juniors who have no idea what's going on and why the seniors are furiously looking for phones with fast internet.

                 


13. Dreading the next couple of days because everyone wants to know everyone else's marks. (Even the people you've never spoke to before.)
                   
                                


14. Seeing the teacher responsible for your low grades.

                   


15. Seeing the really mean teacher responsible for passing you.

              


15. Trying to accept your fate. 

                          




                                               "Ahh. Light. Until next time."