whining of an introvert

Ahhh… I am frustrated. Every time I try to get offended or hate them for their hurtful comments, the logical side of me jumps in and says, “But you did display those behaviors!” The arguments she presents to claim that I am the most selfish being on planet Earth is actually valid. From her point of view, I am insensitive, rude, inconsiderate, stubborn, uncaring and even evil maybe. And to tell you the truth… I am all of that and then some more. But she doesn’t understand the struggles that I go through. I know her’s are much bigger than mine but still… aren’t mine worth anything? At all???
I don’t talk back much. But when I do I tend to end up hurting other people’s sentiment. So I try to control those outbursts of angry emotions. But there is only so much a small hearted person like me could take in. The strange thing is… no one seems to remember all the time that I stay shut and listen to all the accusations they pass out. They only seem to remember the times I can’t control and blurt out stuffs that I actually feel. But I realized just now, that I am not allowed to do that. I need to keep it all inside and show others only the happy side. Even in front of people I consider my own. I am not allowed to be sad or angry or emotional. I just need to be happy. That’s all anyone wants to see. That’s all that’s expected of me. Be a happy pretender. No one’s interested in your sadness… You have too much in life; what on earth could you be complaining about?! You are not allowed to have mood swings. No one wants that. You just need to act happy whatever the hell you feel inside.
Huh… or it all might be just inside my head. Maybe I am the one who’s a spoilt brat. Maybe I am too messed up to handle people the right way. And as I read what I wrote, I too just see the miserable whining of a girl who has too much in life.

outside of my tiny well

dear you,
Before I jumped out of the well which was my whole world… I had a very different notion of who I was. I thought I knew what I wanted in life, nothing too specific, no big goals… just this burning desire to live an independent free life. A life where I wouldn’t have to depend on anyone to take my decisions. Of course now that I have seen the view outside of my well, I know no one ever truly is free.
And this life scares me…
me…

when to let love go…

Dear diary,
I think we as human, as people go through a lot of different struggles in our lives. Some of which are visible to others and for those visible struggles we can expect to receive support and encouragement and even respect from our near and dear ones. And then there are some struggles, going on inside us, hidden from everyone, invisible to all but us. A struggle which we as individuals have to deal with. Alone. It is those struggles that come to define us, of what kind of a person we turn out to be. We have to take a lot of hard decisions. And live with the consequences of those decisions. One of those hard decisions is… deciding to let go of the most favorite people in your life, because you realize that you are being a burden on them. That your friendship has become more of a baggage than a bonding of love and mutual liking.
I think I have taken a lot of wrong decisions in my life. Decisions which left ugly scars on both parties involved. I am a weak person. I am shallow, selfish and often foolish. I am short tempered and I take rash decisions which I later, much later, regret. I have taken a lot of bad decisions in my life, either by my actions or my in- actions. I have hurt people, people I love or loved, as a consequences of those decisions. And I have lived with that guilt, unable to share it with anyone. I think that is my punishment. To have to live with the knowledge that I was the reason for hurting people I loved so much. Maybe… I am unable to keep them because I don’t have a heart big enough.
I used to love them. I loved spending time with them, being with them. Some of my most beautiful memories are with them. But when I look back now… I took a horrible decision which spoilt all those memories. It was because of that decision that all my memories are now tainted with pain. When I look back now, it only hurts me. So the only way left is forward. I need to let go. And it’s so hard. To decide to forget, to decide to never look back. It hurts. To let go. Those sudden pangs of guilt that hits me when some random pictures of them show up on a mutual friend’s wall. To look at them and not feel anything, I wish that time comes soon.
I wonder what a kind person would do. Sometimes I feel so angry. But then I realize that it was after all my fault the way everything turned out. I had imagined a lot of different scenarios in my mind for that final meeting. None of them came true. What did happen was… I cried alone in an empty room for hours, unable to stop the tears… for the lose. Lose of love; lose of friendship, of the bonding we used to have. I used to think we were perfect. What we had was perfect. I thought that was how all friendships were supposed to be. I guess I was the only one thinking that. But anyway, I was happy to not have realized that it was just a misunderstanding on my part. I was happy being oblivious. At least for a while.
I think, to date, I have given up on a lot of things, a lot of people in my life. But giving up on them… was is one of the most difficult thing I have ever done. But I will do it. And do it with a smile. Because, I may not be a lot of things, but I am definitely brave. Or at least brave enough. To suffer the consequences of all the bad choices of my life.
I will forget them. I will let go. I will not hate them. I will just… distract myself long enough to move on. I won’t look back at the hurt and the fights. I will try. I will try to be a better person. For me. for them. They were beautiful. Those memories. I will learn to look past them.
Maybe… a few years down the line, I will not hurt like this. Maybe after a while this will seem like just another lesson. Maybe later, I will be able to look past the hurt and see the happiness I felt with them. Maybe I will learn to not let the pain quench the joy out of the moments which would forever be etched in my memory. Just maybe…
Me…

lost on the highway of life

It feels like I am at a bus stop. The wrong one. Because I can’t seem to be able to find the bus to get on to get to the place where I want to be. I seem to have lost my directions. Or did I figure it out all wrong?! Was this the place where I was supposed to be? Is this what life is all about. A series of compromise and a mutual agreement with life that I have had my share of happiness and my life henceforth is over. That all that’s left to do now is to just carry on. To just exist.

24 years of life

It’s said we never stop being a student… life is a constant teacher and its lessons are never ending… I have used this sentence too many times in my life, but never really appreciated the beauty of the truth behind it. the best teacher is the one who doesn’t makes us realize that they are making us learn something new, when learning occurs in the course of enjoying the moments… when learning occurs silently… and leaves us amazed every time we stop to look around, at all that we have learned…
Life passes on… there are too many stories in my life… and I don’t know how to share it with the world…. I have all this emotions running in my heart and I don’t know how to express it. They are so beautiful. All these stories full of memories, I don’t think I know how to use words to justify them… I feel lost in the maze of so many story… every one of them different…. Everyone of them with strings of memories attached… some happy and some not so… but all of them leave me amazed at the life I have lived till now… it’s like counting my blessings… which I have never done cause I never thought I had any special miracles happening in my life to be acknowledge… but I now feel blessed… at having received so much… now that another phase of my life ends… time for reflection starts…
I have always been a pessimist all my life, always expecting the worst. But I guess there is still a optimist hidden somewhere inside me, because I keep getting disappointed, cause I have not yet been able to kill the part of me that expects more than the best in people and situations!! Now that I take time to look back, I see all the times when this hidden optimism had pulled me through… left me teary eyed and pushed me to push myself….
Someone once taught me to approach life with subdued aggression, so as to appear approachable while still never losing sight of the goal. I am much too lazy for that. I don’t have the patience to keep up a front I don’t believe in… either I go full throttle or I don’t go at all… this middle ka “na yaha ka na waha ka” funda (neither here nor there) doesn’t works with me. I am an all or nothing sort of person. But having experienced life up till this point, I understand the wisdom in those words. And it has become the new motto of my life, my new life.
I am a 24 years old, entering the professional world for the first time. The experience is both a shock and a relief, with hints of what “financial independence” feels like.

story of me

They say, the best stories are the ones with little bit of truth in them. a little bit of the soul of the writer. I haven’t had the most extraordinary of lives… But there have been a lot of things I am always going to be grateful for. So this is my story. The reason that I write.
I know lose is a part of life. The way we deal with them makes us who we are. I can share happiness… it’s the sadness that I am partial about. I guess it’s the reason I am often labeled selfish. I know I am a hypersensitive person and there aren’t many ways for me to hide or overcome this defect in my character. Before reading the autobiography of Thrity Umrigar, an Indian parsi author, I never realized that I wasn’t an abnormality. That there were people out there who felt the way I did.
I lived in a small place, far out of reach of the world that I had started living in inside my head. I wanted to be part of that world, be part of her story, I wanted to ride the B.E.S.T bus with her, wanted to pull down my socks and hike up my skirt with her, I wanted to be the person buying story books with her. But we lived in different places and more importantly in different time era. But she was my inspiration. She was my friend, someone who understood me, someone who went through the same things that I went through, someone who realized that love could become a cage from which it would forever be difficult to fly away… someone who knew that letting go first, took so much courage. She felt like a soul sister I had from a different dimension. Through her story, I got hope… that future wasn’t as bleak as it looked, that there was a much wider world out there, and people who understood us, where we wouldn’t have to live like misfits, where we would be accepted for who we were and we didn’t have to hide behind the curtains of fake controlled smiles, that there was a way to experience the world from that small window of hope… books.
So I wrote. To be able to turn sorrows into stories. To be able to read them and let go of them. everytime reality got too hurtful I took refuge in the world of stories. Everytime the world got too sarcastic and mean, I turned to them again. Until it felt like the stories in those pages were more real than the real life passing me by. I tried to build a mask. To stop the pain from seeping out into all my relations. But damaged goods cannot be repaired, can never be brand new. The cracks were always going to show. I tried to hide it. tried to make up for it. but the truth is, the world always knows your weak points. And life always teaches the same lessons until we learn to learn from them. so when reality finally struck, and relations I thought most important to me couldn’t withstand the burden of my past, I had to lose them all…
They say love can overcome everything. I have been in love. And I ended up breaking them, destroying them. So now, Love scared me. I didn’t want to be a monster anymore. I closed all the windows to it. Because I didn’t want to hurt people anymore. I was tired of pulling everyone down with me, to that scary dark pit where hope had very little light. I didn’t want people who loved me, to face those demons I had to deal with on a regular basis. I was scared… that they wouldn’t love me if they knew the real me, if they found out how broken and beyond repair I was. I was scared that they would give up on me if they found out how far gone I was. So I gave up first. I left them before they could ever leave me. I was a young scared child in a grown person’s body. And nobody understood it, nobody had a clue about it. Cause I had managed to fool them all. I guess I was successful in building that mask I always wanted.
Until one day, when love decided to walk into my life, breaking down doors and pushing through the darkness of my soul. A love, which made me lose control and forced me to show my real self. Love which made me realize, I was holding on to too many things. Love, that made me realize that my heart had enough space for love but none for all that guilt. It made me realize that if I ever wanted to move forward in life, I had to first forgive myself. Those people I had hurt had long since forgotten me. They had moved way ahead in life… that I was only a distant memory, a small character in their story. But for me, the guilt kept the wounds fresh. It occupied and colored all my memories with hurt. Sometimes it filled all my waking hours with nightmares. Consciousness suffocated me. Sleep was my only escape.
But this beautiful love took me by the storm and left me without the support of the mask I had always held on to. It forced me to face my demons and overcome them. it made me realize that my hypersensitivity wasn’t a curse. That I was strong enough, capable enough to love and be loved. That I was held back by chains I had built myself. that the mask I had thought was my fortress had become my cage. And I only had to be strong enough to let it crumble. I realized that all I had to do was ask for forgiveness, that I didn’t have to suffer in silence. That sharing my hurt was going to enable me to let it go finally. So I did it. And with each story that I told, I felt the tightness in my heart loosening. The lump in my throat melting and love filling up my soul and hope glittering like diamonds. The grip of guilt finally letting go of me. at last freeing my soul.
This is me all barred. Judge me if you must. But I learnt all these lessons and I survived it all. And don’t they say? What doesn’t kills you make you stronger! I am better than I was. I will be better than I am. I promise.