Thursday, June 19, 2014

Questions: Round 2

What do you do when you can't find the motivation to work towards something you've dreamt about all your life? How do you deal with the panic and subsequent complacency? How do you push yourself to stop mucking around and get to it? How do you aspire to not disappoint EVERYONE who has SO much faith in your abilities, when you don't think you're much? I'm not the writer I used to be. I'm not the designer I thought I was. I'm not as smart as everyone thinks I am. Sure, book smart is easy. But I'm not much else beyond that. I'm not as creative as was once perceived. I have dreams, but no will to aspire. I have aspirations but no reason to go with the motivations. I have motivation, but no desire and no sense of purpose. 20 days before my General Record Exam. How am I going to do this? Am I worth all the money my father is wasting away on me? Is any of it worth it?

Sunday, November 10, 2013

How To Deal With Spiders: For Arachnophobes and Fearless Freaks Alike

It's an old fact that I am DEATHLY afraid of spiders. I blame my father because I have a faint memory of him describing this weird article to me about how a spider went into a woman's ears and laid eggs and all kinds of crap in there. Now, 21-year-old me knows this is anatomically impossible. But 7/ 8-year-old me was shitting bricks. Thus began my fearful hatred for the eight-legged freaks. I know that earwax is like quicksand for tiny insects (Personal experience with a fly. Don't ask), but that will NEVER stop me from running a 100 miles in the opposite direction at the sight of even a tiny-ass daddy long-legs.

If you share my fear/ death-inducing hatred for these creatures, or have a friend like me (Mah peeps, I'm talking to you), then take notes. These tips should be good enough to make sure you're almost never caught off-guard with a spider on your belly or leg or anything (Yes, I nearly died. Yes, I cried for a minute or two).

1. Squishy Squish Squish
If you own a pair of shoes (or 20), use them to mutilate these futhermuckers. I love nature and God's creatures are cool and all, but SPIDERS ARE THE DEVIL'S SPAWN AND NEED TO BE BATTERED TO DEATH OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN. Don't be calm and composed; feel free to turn into Wolverine when attacking these fearsome beasts.

2. With A Little Help From My Friends/ Family OR Murder For Murder
I can't work the squishy squish squish unless I am forced to. Which is why, I choose to scream for help and run out of the bathroom begging for my mother or father to get rid of the monsters for me. This, I'd say works best if you have someone who loves you enough to wake up in the middle of the night and kill eight spiders in the bathroom because someone decided to shower really late...not like that happened with me. But yes, assistance is your safest option. When in need, run to your favourite person and convince them to kill the freaks or you. The best way to make sure they do this for you is by promising to bring pain to their feared creepy crawlies. Unless, of course, you're both afraid of spiders. In that case, RUN FOR YOUR FUCKING LIVES SPIDERS ARE EVERYWHERE. Seriously though, mother and I have the murder deal: she kills the spiders for me and I bugspray the shit out of the cockroaches for her.

3. Attack With Caution
These things have eyes. So they can kinda see when you're SLOWLY approaching them with a giant foot-like thing in your hand. Slow and steady may win the race, but the only one winning here is the spider as it merrily skittles away from you and decides to find shelter in a dark corner of your room, waiting to attack when you're comfortable and done shuddering. Kill that son-of-a-bitch in one (or several) swift move(s).

4. Demolishing The Demons
Unfortunately, there are some spiders that look like they ate a zillion other spiders and are as big as your palm or anywhere around that size. Now would be a good time to ask for assistance, because you know you're not going to be able to do this on your own, since you're too busy crapping yourself and ready to cry yourself a river. However, remember: squishing isn't the best method here, since it's not really going to die completely, and you'll be left to clean up the big fat ugly mess. I believe a bowl or box turned upside down with a thick paper makeshift dustpan should do the trick.*

* I haven't had the need to work this manoeuvre just yet, thank god, but movies and memes have taught me well.

5. Pay Attention To Your Premonitions
An arachnophobe can always ALWAYS sense when an arachnid is near or approaching. And it has apparently been proven that every room an arachnophobe is in tends to house a spider or two (or three, four, five, ten billion). However, don't let that get to you. Be brave, take a cue from your twitches and shudders and prepare yourself. Pretend that you're like one of those seagulls from Finding Nemo and get that biyotch.

6. Adopting A Predator
If you're a total badass, and love a reptile or two, get yourself a pet lizard or snake! You make a friend, AND you have a handy murder weapon! Everyone wins!

7. Avoid All Spider Memes/ Pictures/ Movie or TV Show Scenes
I'm not sure how many people this applies to, but I cannot STAND looking at even a cartoon sketch of a spider without shuddering. A friend recently thought it would be H-I-L-A-R-I-O-U-S to send me 4 pictures of big fat spiders. He will be beaten to a pulp when he returns. I couldn't even bring myself to watch the new Spiderman movie (I'm reeeeally sorry, Andrew Garfield. I promise to save every googled image of you in the future). I know this makes no sense, but somehow, it does. If you don't have to look at one, you'll probably think there isn't one around you, and positivity is ALWAYS a good thing, right?

8. Be Grateful
And finallyyyy...


I should not have google-imaged this.

Give me a moment while I shudder furiously.

Sunday, June 16, 2013

One.

It takes one single moment to go from the past to the present, from the present to the future, from the future to the hidden unknown. All you need a flash of genius to be the speck of orange in a sea of grey. A tear to let loose every single emotion you've ever felt. It takes one word to let the world know that you exist and you have a voice. It takes one blink of the eye to remember, and another to forget; one smile to let yourself know that it's all going to be alright. It takes a single step to get you that much closer to where you want to be - that much closer to your destination.

It's a single flash of light that reveals all that's undiscovered. One drop of water to quench the thirst that was ripping at your throat. One whiff of comfort to settle you down. One snap of the fingers to bring you back from where you thought you'd been. It takes one twirl to put you ahead in the race. One flicker of talent to send the wolves after you. One image, one song, one experience to put things into perspective. All you need is one push to turn it into a shove. One 'cannot' to a 'heck yeah'. One stroke on paper to create an original. All it takes is for one misunderstood being to ignite the fire.

It takes a single doubt to set your world into a frenzy. One glass-half-empty to turn that smile upside down. It takes one loss, one disappointment, one disgrace to turn things around. One rejection to hit rock bottom. One shot of silence against a cry for help to end a story. One sprint in the wrong direction to change your life forever. One mistake to rip you away from the life that could have been. It takes one error in judgement to push you down to second place. One smack, one forced action, one betrayal to let you see it all. It takes one moment of loneliness to let it all come crashing to the ground.

All you need is one hand on your shoulder, telling you to let it go and calm down. One soul to get through to another. One friend, one accomplice, one partner, one love. One glance to tell you that you're never going to be alone for the rest of your life. One promise for now and forever. One symbol, one object of affection for your reason for your joy. One piece of news to let you know that it could've been worse. One comma to let you know that there's more to things than you think. It takes one single breath of air to let you know that life goes on. And when things aren't going right, it takes one single you to turn things around.

Sunday, April 28, 2013

I'm in my awkward place.

It's that time of the year when I'm contemplating my choices once again. Unfortunately, this time around, I'm actually going to have to make up my mind in less than a month, because the future is here. Choices that I thought I had time to make are now lining up in front of me, ready to give birth to a few million doubts in my overcrowded brain.

I'm this close to graduating. So close to actually having a Bachelors degree to my name. And that freaks the living daylights out of me, because as much as I'd hate to admit it, it amounts to something. And while that may sound like a good thing, here's where it gets scary - the security blanket I'd been hiding under is now being pulled hard from over my head. No more faith in the fact that college will be on after summer. Every choice I make now affects my chances at a future away from here. I'm going to have to work that much harder and that much smarter to even make a dent in international admissions. Heck, even a small dent in Indian Masters admissions.

Every day my mind goes down a different path. Every day I'm forced to think about which course to finally pick. Every day I'm running numbers in my head, trying to figure out ways to make sure dad doesn't have to pay for college in America. Every day I'm putting off the thought of applying for tests. Every day I'm thinking about having to drop everything and move. And the thought that scares me the most is if I'm even worth it. If I even have the talent. If I'm ever even going to make it, after all the hard work. For as long as I can remember, I've imagined my life away from home. I've imagined myself walking down the streets of New York, LA or San Francisco, living the dream, self satisfied, good at what I do, and HAPPY. What scares me the most is that that dream may end up as just that - a dream. And that's something I can't deal with.

I need to get out of this awkward place and I need to get out soon.

Monday, February 18, 2013

What's In A Mane?

This is one of those posts where I go on and on and on about something I don't understand.

Like hair. The mane. The "luscious" headdress that men and women the world over covet so much for some reason.

I recently got a haircut, which isn't a new thing for me. I've never been able to let my hair grow beyond my shoulder - you'd understand if you lived in India during the summer. Now, I went to my usual parlour, and had a new lady do my hair, and asked her to give me a boy-cut. Now a cut that short is no big deal for me. HOWEVER, it seemed to pain her to snip off whatever little hair was already on my head (we're talking about a bob that's a little below the ear. In my world, that's long hair). Her opening statement to me: "You have lovely hair, why snip it off?" I responded in silence, my irritation threatening to take over. Throughout that session, she kept passing comments such as "you've had a hair cut like this before?" Or "you have guts" or "oh I see that it looks nice on you".

Ignoring the fact that she'd messed up the cut and that I had to go in and fix it once I got home, here's what bugged me about the whole situation: It's my hair. I'll shave it all off if I have to, what's it to you?

Which brings us to the premise: What's with the obsession with (I'm going to be specific and sexist) a woman's haircut - the lack/ presence of one?

Why is it that the way a woman's hair looks or is set, seems to define her? Why does being a woman mean having long(ish) hair? Why does a woman have to be 'ballsy' or 'fierce' (very technical terms, these) if she decides to go for a short crop? It's our choices that define us; true. But I'd love to know how my boy-cut tells people that I'm fierce or confident, or how my long hair tells people that I'm graceful and poised at all times. I bet you wouldn't look at my short hair and think, "Maybe she's just trying to avoid wanting to kill herself when summer comes along" or "Maybe she's just saving herself the effort of having to wash her hair every day". Ironic, since those really are the reasons why I cut my hair. See how my hair gives you neither of those two things?

Another thing that frustrates me is how men think they have a right over a woman's hair, or have the right to pass judgement on a woman's choice of cut. My own father hasn't spoken to me for 2 days when I first got a boy-cut three years ago. What gave men the right to think that a woman's hair is their pride and joy? Heck, if if makes you so happy to sit and stare at a head of hair, grow your own. God blessed you with an empty head and a decent mane; use it.

Woman through time, famous or not, have gone short. Joan of Arc, Kiran Bedi, Indira Gandhi, Emma Watson, Anne Hathaway (Hollywood deserves recognition) have all gone short. But no one talks about how their hair cut defined them, and shaped them into the legends they are. Why? Cuz, just in case I haven't made my point: it doesn't matter. There. Bam.

Dear world,
Know this. My hair does not define me. It tells you nothing about my personality, my life or my attitude. It doesn't define my beauty, nor does it care for your opinion. It doesn't get its own stocking on Christmas, nor does it get a last name. My hair does not help you solve your problems, nor does it laugh at your silly jokes.
My hair belongs to me. How I want to cut it, shape it, wear it, colour it, hold it, twirl it, dry it, tie it - IS MY DECISION.

And no, you don't have a say in the matter.

I leave you with this: