The light and the heavy!

For a brilliant change there's been so much to write about! So much that I'm confused as to what should I start to write about! :P

Heavy: You know how there are times when you feel like your heart, your brain and your soul are completely going on and on, stretching dangerously in the opposite directions so that you feel like you might burst? An indifferent word, a callous attitude, a carelessly thrown rude remark, is what it takes for that last straw to pop and God save the world! You're gone! Like, literally. Because you know what? No one wants to know what your problem is. Someone rightly said, 'Smile, and the world smiles with you. Weep, and you weep alone'. I get it, but I also support crying when it's needed. You don't need to pretend everything's alright when you don't feel it is. Heck with what the world thinks, stop pretending and do it, say it, all that you think for real. Even if you get to realize you don't mean as much to everyone as you thought you did. You should be happy that the realization came on sooner rather than later!

Light: My new I'll-go-for-a-walk-every-day-regime? Which by the way, has successfully completed two days. I'm quite sure I'll be able to stick to it for some while. I've decided on evening walks, as getting up before 7.20 (minimum time) is oh-not-so-possible. Trust me, I've tried the 'Early to bed, early to rise' thing, but it's always, 'early-or-later-to-bed-you're-not-getting-up-early-enough' for me! :P What can I do, though? Just not a morning person! Besides, there are so many things you can see during those evening minutes of self-imposed-harrowing-walking, things that equally want to make you smile and tear your hair out! I made a list. While walking. That's for another post!

Heavy: Dreams you harbored in yourself, quite deep inside, so deep that you can't take them out without needing surgery, shattered. It isn't as dramatic as it sounds, but it's heartbreaking nevertheless. When you have to face the hard, dumb reality that how you thought things would turn out, actually don't? There are things you desire so madly that you just don't want to hear those words, those that say it isn't possible, that suggest your weakness, your helplessness and  your vulnerability. Just those words would be able to bring you to tears as you stare at the pieces of your dreams fallen apart and lying around like junk. Maybe even stamped upon by some pitying souls. Please God! Not that dream, it's the most important to me. :|

Light, Light and Light!: I'm the kind of a nakli city girl. The one who lives in the supposedly, fastest city and still not being able to roam around on my own. For one, I'm the biggest lost-case when it comes to directions and places. Just-can't-manage! The only road routes I know are the ones from my home to both my colleges and one to my aunt's place, which we happen to frequent. Ask me no more! Hail metro! :P So the other day, Saturday, I suppose, I made a much-needed trip to my library in C.P., after which I was supposed to meet a few friends. As usual the library trip went alright, except for the minor defect of a couple of seconds that I managed to embarrass myself when the security guard refused to let me take my pepper spray inside (hard times call for hard measures. Or something like that) and I stood there looking confused, my face an expression that said 'If you don't allow, I'll use it on you!'. Maybe. After which the guard just utters a 'please?' and I nod and move forward!

So, yeah. As if normal straight roads didn't confuse me anyway, I was asked to come and meet my friends at a KFC restaurant (yay chicken!). Looking more confident than I felt (alone time is tough), I walked up to a couple of autowallas and described my misery (read: asked them to take me to KFC!), one of whom refused, the other one looked at me like I was crazy, the third one saying, 'Paas me hi hai, paidal chale jaao'. Now if that's not embarrassing enough. :| Okay, lazy guy! I'll walk. If only I knew where! I called up a friend and explained my then-current location and while on the phone, walked halfway through, after which I had to hang up. Definitely felt like I was in some alien city, shooting daggers at anyone who dared look (paranoia!) and walking as fast as my legs could manage (definite need for solid exercise!). I was told it's easy and near, and the phone wouldn't be needed. Of course it was! Standing outside a huge KFC (*stomach rumbles*), I call again and thank god I did, because they weren't really at KFC, but in Dominos, which wasn't even visible in my range of vision!

Anyhow, after a few more minutes, they came out and took me. :P I know, I can be pathetic at times, but that's just one of my very few weaknesses, I swear! Meeting at Dominos, no one wanted to order anything, so hiding faces (that was me), we left for the next door Dunkin' Donuts, where we talked about what we wanted to, while tasting a weird looking something-that-was-not-a-donut! Later on a friend P, wished for some hot coffee, so we went into a CCD. Some good looking, posh-looking CCD it was. We were four by that time and when the waiter arrived to take the order, P announced she'll have an espresso and we shook our heads when he looked at us. That's it, we said. He gave a funny look, which I found quite insulting (but you have to ignore certain things in life, so we let it pass). When finally the waiter came and we were waiting quite restlessly (that was me! Not because I wanted coffee, sillies, but because it was getting late!), what he brought down on the table seemed to be a starter or something.

This was it. And that's my hand measuring the cup!

We sat there, staring at it. Waiting for something, it seemed. Quite a while passed before any of us realized that that's going to be it. That's all. The waiter's gone, a couple more glancing at our table with funny looks on their faces. I narrowed my eyes at them and then brought them back to the table again. My eyes, I mean. What we had in front seemed nothing less than a brilliant, not-so-perfectly-timed joke. The espresso was contained in a three inch cup, filled slightly less than half with a deep dark liquid, accompanied by three different kinds of sugar packets. I might be dumb when it comes to having coffee at coffee shops, because the only coffee out-of-home I've ever liked has been at the Cafe at one of my libraries. But even then, this was not what we expected for 70 bucks! After several minutes of analyzing it and let's admit, laughing out loud, especially at P's expression that shrieked "I've been betrayed!" I realized it was fun. We had a good laugh over it and it did reinforce my initial qualms about CCD being hopeless. Oh by the way, just one tiny sip was all it took to know we're not going to touch it again.

More Light!!!: Then there was yesterday, when I was reading a surprisingly good book, that I had this strange, unnerving feeling, the kind of intuitive feeling you get sometimes, so strong that you feel like doing all sorts of things on impulse. Which in my case, was book-shopping! I hadn't been to a bookstore in ages and my friend in office (yeah, we were in on our internship!) suggested Landmark, a whole one floor bookstore, after listening to which I couldn't stop drooling. I decided to stop being a nerd-intern and leave office early for a change. Will you believe it? The impulse was so strong that my convo with my mentor went like this:

Mentor: So, all this is fine. Just complete it soon and show the final thing to me today itself.   

Me: *Looking distressed* Umm.... Actually...

Mentor: What? Can't happen today? I guess you have plenty of time.

Me: No, it's not that. Can I please mail it to you by evening? I actually have to go somewhere today. Soon.

Mentor: Oh, alright. Mail it to me then.

Me: *Dancing inside* Thank you. :)

In short, I checked my bag to see if I did indeed have my card, you know, to be able to make purchases, when I realized I don't even have my purse, let alone the card! I was cash-strapped! My friend kindly suggested I take some from her and return the next day, and that my impulse-feelings had somehow got transferred and she's not going to take no for an answer, and so we went. The bookstore was definitely awesome! So many different categories of books, filled with amazing titles! I smiled at some, went absolutely berserk at some, drooled over some, and then started looking for the book(s) I wanted. Now, the first one I wanted was The Other Side of the Table by Madhumita Mukherjee. I know, Indian, but I was finding it so good that I wanted my own copy, rather than the borrowed one, because it's the kind of book that you'd like reading again and again. Found it soon enough under 'New arrivals', hence no discount. But that's alright. An awesome book is an awesome book. 

I did not find a copy of The Fault in Our Stars by John Green. Again. So then I picked up two Cecelia Aherns, and I admit, totally because of the awesomeness of their covers! I mean, have you even seen the cover for One Hundred Names? I totally picked it up because of the cover! It seemed like a 'must-have'. And then as there was this offer, buy 3 for 2, and my first book wasn't in that category and my friend picked up Safe Haven by Nicholas Sparks from that scheme too, I had to pick one more, which would be free. So I went with The Gift by Cecelia Ahern. Super happy with the loot, we went to make the payment when the cash counter girl swiped the card too hard and it stopped working! :O Just like that! We tried a few times, even in the ATM, but it didn't work. Heart-broken and even more cash-less than we thought we were, we said goodbye to our books and went home empty handed. We haven't lost hope yet, we'll be going there again this week, but still. Also I had to go home by metro, which is when I realized that my bag was closed by one of those stupid plastic locks they put before you enter a department store, so that without a pair of scissors you can't open it. And so I spent 40 minutes daydreaming. No book, no headphones. :P I tell you, there is actually some fault in my stars. :| 

- This was totally random. Why can't I even write something I had planned? -

Also, I still haven't started making the thing I promised to mail my mentor yesterday. Lazy or what?

Music-ing!

‘Singing Radiohead at the top of our lungs, with the boombox blaring as we’re falling in love’ sings Avril Lavigne in the background as I attempt writing while listening to music. I’m otherwise someone who needs absolute silence in order to concentrate enough to write. Sometimes though, I’m able to achieve the feat with random noise as well, thanks to having a sibling. You know how they never listen to you, so no matter what you say or how bad you plead with them, they’ll still not keep their (and the TV’s) volume down. 

I wasn’t much of a music person, at least until some time back. There were a few tracks I liked, but never bothered downloading them just to listen over and over. While I listened to others going on how music makes them feel better, nodding my head as if I understood, I wasn’t giving it much of a thought. When they said music made them ‘forget the world’ and gave them peace, I thought of it as a medium that suits them, like books suited me. I had that medium for the solution to every feeling I had. It was just some time ago, a year and a half maybe, that I got into a lucky friendship with someone who had a music solution for everything. If I would be feeling happy, I’d get a song that would describe that feeling, if I would be confused, a song for that, if I would be feeling like crying, a song for that. That’s when I realized how there’s a song for almost everything and.... it actually feels good, when you listen to your feelings transcribed and sung through a song. Add magical beats or the soothing instruments in the background, and you’re feeling better already! Music doesn’t make me forget the world, like for others, but makes me more aware, aware of my feelings which sometimes I otherwise cannot form into words even in my head.

 

Source: Google

All the songs I now feel like listening to, the ones I like best, all have come from that friend. Great music choice, I have to say! :D Another friend suggested a couple of girly songs (she’s a girl, so yeah :P) which have somewhat rekindled my love for such songs, which was dominant for a while when I was in school and loved singing along to Hannah Montana. (I still do that sometimes, though!) Now it’s like, I have someone to think about for almost every song. Not because of the message in the song, but who introduced me it. If I listen to Heart Vacancy or Honey Bee, I have a person in mind. If I’m listening to Here’s to Never Growing Up, I think of the one who made me listen to it. Is this what happens to you too? It’s not that I relate to every song, as such. Because hello? There are so many love songs I like, but I’m zero-ically interested in the love shove ki moh maya! :P Though yes, some songs do make me feel like it was written just to describe my feelings! ^_^ 

This morning, what I was trying to comprehend and find out reasons for, was why there’s so much focus on physical beauty. Always having to deal with my nada photogenic self, apart from the real problems, I have developed a resistance to the idea of beauty being just physical. I’m not saying it is, but even at first glance when normal people say, ‘She/He’s beautiful’, I internally agree but I wish they would know the person before calling them beautiful. This is a whole topic for some other time, but the gist is that I wasn’t feeling too good, thank you outer-beauty-judging world. And then reluctantly I decided to listen to some songs while travelling in the bus for office (internship! Reluctantly because I don’t feel like letting those singers making fun of my situation, but since I can’t read in the bus, I had to do something). I’m glad I did, though. I tuned in to two songs I’ve been listening to continuously since the past two days and I can’t describe what all they made me feel, except that they did make me feel beautiful. 

Thanks Preetika for these two songs! :D

Taylor Swift: 22

Avril Lavigne: Here’s to Never Growing Up

PS- I’m thinking it would be cool to have a weekly thing, the likes of ‘Song of the Week’. One song featured, one which would have been my latest favourite! How about that? I have ten in my mind already! 

PPS- I managed to write while listening to songs. And my headache’s gone. Is music awesome or what? :D     

Happiness unlimited!! :D

Life is insanely funny, not excluding the 'insane' part. I mean, just yesterday I was feeling so crappy, even a little bit in the morning, worried about a sweet friendship that means the world to me. I think God has finally decided my days of facing slash feeling crap should be over. Whatever test He was subjecting me to, I must have aced it. Beautifully. I had such an amazing day today! So many little things that made me so happy that right now I'm absolutely, positively, you-can't-piss-me-off-whatever-you-do giddy! *Giggles*

Alright, I have loads to say about the internship and so far I was just having an experience bordering average or maybe even boring. Seems like the barrier was crossed today and I'm so sure it's going to be good from now on. Maybe even better than expected. I'll be writing down the amazing little things that happened today in points. They may seem pretty much average to you, but ask someone like me who's oh-so trying to get over the depressing don't-know-why phase I was into recently. All this means a lot. :D

1. I was feeling cruddy because I had been pissed off without much of a reason the last night and hadn't talked to one of my best friends, just because of it. And.... well, I was feeling on edge till morning because I hate making those friends who're close to me, feel like I'm mental and fearing losing them. So I made an unconventional call and it managed to calm me down so well. I suppose that was the first ball in the make-my-day-happy court. The said friend is super sweet. If you're reading this, I guess you'll know and I treasure you truly. :)

2. While I was sitting in the blessed RTV that takes me, and some staff members back home comfortably (otherwise I would have been dragging myself, changing three modes of transport and two metro trains, no less!), I was listening to the three women talk, with whom I always sit during the evening ride. Two of them are English editors and one sweet lady who helped me since Day 1, what she does I don't know exactly. Anyway, I always sort of admired one of those two editors (not just because she's an editor, though my respect level automatically zooms up for such amazing people), who is a Kashmiri and she's lovely. Not just going by physical appearance. She's sweet when she talks, her 'Good morning's are always bright and actually seem to make your mornings 'good', her tone is so damn polite! Today was the first time I had proper interaction with those two, despite the fact that I sit facing them each day, the past two weeks. And I loved it. 

Just like always, ignoring the fact that my head is buzzing and my eyes in pain, I take out my book-for-today. (My reading speed has suspiciously increased, so that I'm now relishing off books no more than one-for-two-days-max). The non-Kashmiri one tells the other, 'She's really fond of reading books. Each day it is a different one, see?', recalling the conversation I had with her the previous day, when the Kash one was absent. Then we went on talking about books, the second conversation of the day. This one was different, as they both are readers too, and we were discussing what thriller writers are the best, how there are few kids who read so much, or read at all, how the Kash has her own library (I swear I felt like saying 'I love you!' but I supposed that would gross her out and cancel any chances I had of ever making a conversation with her again). We discussed the amazingness of Harry Potter and how she almost let a cooker blast because she was so engrossed in reading the book. I just controlled my drool. 

Anyway, so she encouraged me to pick up a few good Indian authors, whose books are there in the office library. I sadly recounted my experience the first day, where the cranky old librarian said, 'You're not permanent employees, so I'm not issuing you books', after which I did not venture even close. She asked me to meet her there tomorrow, she'll show me the good books and will get them issued- on her own card. God bless such souls. More on this later! :D

3. My dad came home-sweet-home after a four day official trip to Dushanbe, the capital of Tajikistan. That is awesome enough, but it was the happiness he was radiating that was so contagious! Amidst laughter and jokes, he recounted his experiences while practically glowing! This place is one superb, one of the most beautiful places he's ever seen! And trust me, he's seen many. I was awed by the pictures, by the little sweet nothings he described that make that place what it is. It's supposed to be a poor country, but it looks far from it. The people are generous and kind, they respect 'Hindustanis', have super cute dhabas where they serve choy with naan and fried fish and salad! *drooling* There is this river, Nurek which is actually sea green! SO pretty! I'm attaching pictures, so you can experience some of the awesomeness too.

All pictures here have been clicked by my dad! (Except the one with the kids!)

Snow mountains! So high!

                                   

Pamirs!

Then, on the way back, the plane's route was such that they'd be flying over 'The Roof of the World', otherwise known as the Pamirs. It's the highest altitude plateau in the world and the surrounding mountains were SO high! You can imagine from these pictures. Amazing! There were other landmarks too, like the Somoni statue, the world's biggest library (yeah!) and the world's tallest free-standing flagpole. I'm too lazy to put in links, please Google. Or just stay khush with these pictures! ;) Oh yeah, I got these two jewelry items as a gift, as I have to have something from every country he visits. Keepsake and all, you know. I couldn't get my ear to look pretty, so the earrings don't make it to the blog. Here's this beautiful bracelet! *Drooling some more* Oh again, some chocolates too, and yes, a perfume as well! Thanks Dad! :D

Bracelet! :D

Nurek river. Look at the color!

Dad with cutie and excited Tajik kids!

The world's biggest library! I'll have to visit this someday!

4. One of my greatest friends has been selected in his dream university! Feeling super happy! :D Not just because I'm in for a scrumptious treat, but because I genuinely am too happy, like the amazing friend that I am. ;) 

I know, I have at least 3-4 friends right now, waiting to talk! I shouldn't type more! :P More later! Too happy to even type! :D 

You cannot.

**Fiction**

Bridget's diary (D)

Bridget

Here's a list of some things you cannot do:

1. Oh well, heck with a list. I just had one point in mind and I'm not going to cook up a few more just so this looks a little less than a very bad entry. 

Anyway D, you agree with me, right, when I say you cannot have everything according to how you want it? Of course you need to consider other people's wishes, needs and comfort levels as well. Is that possibly a reason I'm so anti-social? I have no problem with other people living their lives, having fun. They can do just about whatever. Unless it comes close to my life, including the people I'm close to. Then I can be painfully vicious, though not at the surface. See, this is how it goes: I notice a ripple in my perfectly smooth lake of life and I'm disturbed. I don't like changes, especially if it's for something I really like. It would be then that I would blurt out stuff, half of which I don't even mean, which doesn't make sense even to me, as if it came out just because of that reason- to come out. 

And then the one I believe is a comrade-for-life (though not exactly 'one'. I'm quite disgusted at myself for my insane 'quality'-if you could call it that-to have trusted and had that trust crushed innumerable times), reaches his/her patience limit- a little too quickly, I think - and there! The explosion that rocks me off the deck and hauls me overboard. Okay, not that dramatic. I mean, it's then that maybe something snaps and they get back with a rude word or say things you know but don't want to hear? Like how it is you yourself that is the problem. That's when I feel my heart sink. There goes another one of my precious relations. Except for the fact that nothing seems to change on the surface. It's as if the ripple wasn't even there.

But the point is, I'm not vicious at all, D. The plain truth is just this! I'm scared. Insecure. I need my 'trustees', even if it is only one, to be a little more patient with me. C'mon, you know this D! If I'm willing to do and bear just about anything, if any one of them needs something: a person who'd just listen, someone who might help, who may offer some genuine advice, don't I always get on with the role? There's hardly any hesitation. Then why can't I just have someone who wouldn't lose their cool if I'm being a little bit difficult? I swear, I think people run by their own personal whims and fancies. Got bored of one? Go talk to another. Wrong. 

You cannot just say whatever comes to your heart, all that you are feeling. You cannot have that satisfaction, the one where you finally speak out your heart, all your thoughts and beliefs and fears and apprehensions and still have the other one love/like/admire/respect you in the same way. Instead they'll snap and turn the tables on you. I think, D, it's kind of like, bullying? Minus doing it deliberately. It is deliberate, but it's so ingrained in us that we don't give our behaviour a thought. There might be something wrong with me, and I don't know what. And the worst part is, there's no one to help. No one listens. The moment they listen, they lash out. And with each lash, D, my heart sinks lower. Just like the boat that drowned, because just like the boat, I may have lost my captain. 

Though, I'm really grateful I learned to read and write. That is one form of expression I'm most comfortable with. I love you, D! Maybe more so because you do the 'listening' job pretty well. :) And I trust you completely. 

D

My Dear Bridget

I love you too. While I'm glad I'm your supposedly, only supporter, I'm afraid I won't be able to diagnose the problem. That you need to manage with human help, someone more physical. Please help yourself Bridget, it's the only way. At least to begin with. 

All the best!

**End**

Is this the most morose story or what? Looks like the diary entry of a completely lost person. I hope Bridget is able to find the right coordinates, and navigate her way back to the right track. Oh my God. I just created a character! Hello Bridget, whose name-I-chose-in-half-a-second-as-it-was-the-first-to-come-to-mind. I hope I get more stuff to write about you. :D   

Theandric Thursday: Birthday Revelations 2: Life takes a turn.

This story is Chapter 2 of Usama's story 'Birthday Revelations', which he had written 8 months ago as a Theandric Thursday post. We decided to make it a sequel, where we'll write the story in continuation, one chapter alternating between us. If you didn't know about it, click here to read the first part. This here is the second part by me!

***

The scent was something pleasant, like a fruit. Strawberry? It was gradually drifting away, though. Just as I took a deep whiff, I felt a stinging sensation, right in my nose! Aarrghh! Garlic? What the hell! 

I blinked back tears seeping out from the corner of my eyes as I got up. This was becoming much too weird to handle. Alright, I got to know why I didn't seem to fit well with other humans, check, the humans. That's because exactly four weeks and two days prior, on my 25th birthday, I got to know I'm not really a human, but a case from Kabilaar, the Planet where my real parents are. I'm already past the phase when I might think that was just a dream, because it's not. How else would you explain those recurring, more-than-real visions I get while sleeping, where I see myself reunited with my supposedly 'real' family? Or the more-than-real feeling when I hear Kobo crying (he actually is a cry-baby!), or feel Sao Pa looking over me, or see Yev and Sam smirking together from behind him. And okay, I also see her. Daema, the strawberry girl who hasn't been out of my head since my birthday. She might as well be my cousin for all I know, and I seriously don't want to think about her, but she's the most frequent vision, and I really have no choice.

The final straw was three days ago when, upon entering home my ammi remarked, "You really have been quite energetic recently. Exercising hard? You're practically glowing!", hearing which I almost choked on my soda. I had started to wonder if, now that I know the truth, my dormant powers are coming alive? I even did a clever talk-maneuver with my parents, vaguely dropping in the words 'alien', 'planet' and even going as far as 'child adoption' just to see whether they reacted. Did they know about me? I dropped the idea soon, though. I don't care where I was born, I know who my real parents, in the right sense are. Still, that didn't stop those visions or the warm feeling I felt when I saw them. I was already getting used to them, even if they were just in my head.  

'Hey, that's an enchanting picture. What did you make this time?' came my mother's voice over my head, as I sat huddled on the floor near my desk. Startled, I shuffled the paper under another piece of still drawing.

'Uh, nothing much ammi. I had a dream and I liked it. I was trying to sketch it out, that's all', I replied, trying- and failing- to keep my voice from quivering a little. To cover up for it, I tried adding a smile, which I knew came out bleak. Mom didn't seem to notice. 'Oh, that's good. Why don't you show me? We can make a story out of it, like always. Or do you feel grown up for that?' She eyed me mischievously, but I also saw a hint of sadness, as if she missed me being the-kid-who-loved-making-up-stories with her. I wasn't exactly a kid anymore, though I still liked making up stories. It was something we bonded over.

I smiled, this time for real. 'Not at all. It isn't complete yet, though. I have another one for tonight'. 

'Alright kid. Your choice', Mom said. 'I'm going to prepare dinner. You want anything special?'

'No thanks mum. Anything you make is amazing', I grinned. She smiled and left, leaving me feeling a little guilty. I hardly ever lie to her. I took out the picture and felt even more guilty, having painted my actual family with my best kind of precision. The only ones I couldn't picture were my parents and that was partly the reason I had recently started looking forward to sleeping at night. I wondered if I might glimpse them in those visions, even though Sao Pa had made it clear I wouldn't be able to, unless I decide to stay with them. But what were they doing, visiting me so often in my head, making me comfortable around them? That wasn't fair. That might affect my decision.

No, I've made my decision. I can't leave my life for them! Yep, humans aren't as trustworthy as my fellow aliens at Kabilaar are, but still. Until a few days ago, I was one of them, at least that's what I thought. And now I'm aware I'm not really a human, I have been dealing with alien-characteristics-that-crop-up-unexpectedly any time! My life really couldn't get any weirder. 

Heh, who am I kidding? 

That night when I got that vision, that mother-of-all-visions-put-together vision, I thought I must be dreaming, because there was no way my life was going to spiral roll with that speed in that direction. But when I woke up with the roll of paper sealed with wax, I knew I was in for some life changing, one hell of an experience. I had been, I'll shamelessly admit, looking forward to sleep that night. It had been two days since I last saw Daema. Two days stuck with swearing Sev and arguing Yev, bickering with each other, and answering my questions with not-so-satisfactory answers. So when I landed in a soft cushioned seat in a beautiful room overlooking a river and the Empire State Building in the distance, I thought it's Daema's work. Just like her to create a river in the middle of Manhattan. There she was, smiling brightly and exuding off strawberries and I once again reminded my flipping heart to do a reverse gear. She's your cousin, you idiot.

My short fantasy was literally, short lived. Before I could smile back, the room was filled with soft light and the chairs forming a semi-circle around my seat weren't empty anymore. I saw Sao Pa and bowed my head in the traditional greeting. Apart from him and Daema, who was sitting in the chair closest to me, I did not recognize anyone else.
'Hello Tipo', Sao Pa, sitting in the center, addressed me. 'You must be surprised. Let me tell you what we're all here for'. His glow seemed to radiate more than ever. I realized my mouth was hanging open and I was clutching the edges of my seat. He went on, nodding towards the other Kabilaars, 'This here, is the General Kabilaar Council, of which I happen to be the President. This is Manu Lo, who takes care of the planet's Amity'. Manu Lo bowed his head toward me and I took a second, fidgeting, before I bowed back. 'And this here.....' Sao Pa continued introducing them and I tried making a mental note of each of them, based on their unique characteristics, like how Lipi Ho, the one who represents Bravery, actually had a big pout. 

And after that was the bomb, which could easily be the biggest bombshell of my 25 year old life. I now had a choice. Freedom. Not just a one-time freedom, either. I'll keep it short. Three main points came out of it:

1. If I passed their 'T&S test', short for 'Tolerance and Sanity' test, I would officially be one of them, on record, just as a non-resident. A Non-Resident Kabilaar. NRK, which meant I would be living on Earth as I always had, with the added perk of actually being able to visit my home planet too, Kabilaar, but these visits would happen after I complete another test, the details of which they said I'd come to know later. The weird thing? I had already passed the test! Turns out those visions were vigilance watches and they were testing me on my tolerance (yay I have a lot of it) and sanity. Figures. An insane human would be a sane alien. Jokes apart, I was in for a shock. 

2. Feliz was also a Kabilaar. Before I could react to this with more than a cry of shock, I was told that Feliz almost went insane, he couldn't pass this test. And the reason he didn't tell me anything or didn't believe me was that he didn't remember it himself. Kabilaar rule: You don't take the risk of having aliens roaming around on Earth proudly boasting they're aliens. Not that anyone would believe them, but still. 

3. This was the one that almost got me kicked out, any chance of turning from a potential Kabilaar to a permanent one almost ruined. But yay tolerance! They should also add 'hiding-true-feelings-despite-feeling-them-like-crazy' to the list. I mean, it turned out Daema was actually, the one responsible for Kindness and being my cousin was just part of the act, so I don't feel intimidated or something. I know, feeling so happy was insane. I don't know how I passed the Sanity test, seriously. I wasn't in control of my insanely beating heart either, especially as it did numerous somersaults after hearing the news. I know, it's gross that I have no control over my heart, and I couldn't show it. I have an inkling that Daema sensed it, though, if how she gave a bright smile was any indication, and that's a fact I have no trouble with. (Hey, this is my heart talking, not my brain. Stop rolling your eyes. They'll get stuck in the back for all you know).

So yeah, now I'll be trained for the second test and one day if I pass that, I'll be able to visit Kabilaar. To the parents who gave me birth. Ya, that was illegal, but they're still my birth-parents. I wouldn't be lying if I say I was feeling quite content with my life. :) 

***

Theandric Thursday is a used to be a fortnightly feature on my blog (now it'll just be whenever I have the time and mind!), where I'll be having fun with putting down those weird thoughts and stories that occupy my mind most of the times. The dictionary definition of 'Theandric' is 'Relating to the joint agency of the divine and human nature'.

If you're interested in participating, write your own Theandric Thursday post and drop your link in the comments section. Feel free to write reality, part-reality-part-fiction or fiction, anything above the 'normality' of our world. ;) You can use the above picture on your post and link back to this post.

PS- Do you like this story? You will like it more when Usama-the-amazing-story-teller would continue with it! Keep an eye out! ;)

Theandric Thursday # 6: Dream a better dream...

Oh yay! *Dancing* Finally, back with a Theandric Thursday post! Theandric Thursday is a used to be a fortnightly feature on my blog (now it'll just be whenever I have the time and mind!), where I'll be having fun with putting down those weird thoughts and stories that occupy my mind most of the times. The dictionary definition of 'Theandric' is 'Relating to the joint agency of the divine and human nature'.

If you're interested in participating, write your own Theandric Thursday post and drop your link in the comments section. Feel free to write reality, part-reality-part-fiction or fiction, anything above the 'normality' of our world. ;) You can use the above picture on your post and link back to this post.

Yes, I know it isn't Thursday. My blog, my wish. :P 

*Fiction*

Kaitlyn grabbed the loose ends of her hair, previously falling over her cheeks, working her hands speedily as she used the black elastic band to tie her hair up in a simple ponytail. Not that she had much choice anyway, what with her black locks almost reaching her waist, coupled with her eternal uncaring attitude, too ‘uncarish’ to even try variants in hairstyles. It wasn’t as if she was plain. She was one of those who were envied for their effortless good looks. Like, some people make a lot of effort. That girl in the mall may have spent an entire hour getting ready: showering, oiling, creaming, powdering, and all such ‘ing’s. You know what I mean. While on the other extreme there were those like Kaitlyn, who simply looked good whatever condition they were in. Even if you happen to pass their homes late in the evening and saw a light through a window and peeked in, you’d see them watching TV with their family, in their PJs and maybe laughing loudly, still you’d think they had the most beautiful faces. That was what Kaitlyn knew and was happy about. Because hello? No non-sense makeup needed and she’d still be okay.

In any case, she was much too worked up about other, seemingly impossible, yet real stuff to care about how she looks. That was nowhere in her priority list. She let out a sigh, making a small circle of breath on the mirror’s surface. Her hands rested on the edge of the dressing table as she stared into the frosty-looking glass (misnomer-because it wasn’t exactly frost that was there). The plain surface gradually turned into a swirling mass of colors, which finally took shape till she was looking into creatures and forms that dominated her dreams these past nights. It had started almost two weeks ago, she clearly remembered. She had been in a horribly angry state, sick of all the drama her fellow students in college seemed to indulge in. Sick, she had thought, these people are just so clueless, so shallow, so unaware. What kind of a person gossips about other people, commenting on everything about them? It’s ridiculous. She’d rather spend her time discussing something ‘bright’ or planning something good, or helping someone. There’s so much more to life. So much she wanted to do, so much that she feared not being able to finish it all in a lifetime.

That’s why she remembered that night in particular, because that dream had been so peculiar. So much of a coincidence that her paranoid brain didn’t just want to strike it off as a plain coincidence. True, she always had been proud of the way she felt connected to dreams, how she practically lived in those dreams, some recurring ones (like the one where she’s standing in a small round park, with kids and adults having fun and then seeing funny-looking airplanes overhead, not just flying but doing round-abouts, too close to the buildings surrounding the park), some so hilarious that she could laugh and still enjoy the dream (like the one where she is moving around in her scooty, just that the scooty is her red Fastrack bag!), some depicting her deepest insecurities and fears (like those with dogs chasing after her, or how she seems to be getting late, no matter how much she tries). These were all seemingly normal for her. Self introspection? Her dreams did that for her.

But that night had shaken her up, if only just a little. Almost as if.....as if, someone was giving her a choice. In the first part she faced the worst kind of nightmares, so tight that she wasn’t even aware and couldn’t bring herself to wake up, like she usually could. The dream ended when she was flying down into a never-ending abyss, just to have her engulfed in an entirely different realm. This time when she opened her eyes, she was still sleeping, but seemed as if she had moved into paradise. She hadn’t seen as many blooming flowers in all her life, in varying shades, interspersed between the greens. It wasn’t even too harsh, rather soothing. But that wasn’t what did it. It was the way she felt, too real, too good to be true, her heart too peaceful to be in just another usual dream. This place allowed her to be all that she thought she wasn’t and what she wanted, which was a way out to find her real self.

She frequently wondered about the point of her existence. She was a dreamer, but it didn’t work out well in ‘reality’, for dreams are to be forgotten as soon as you’re awake. Now that she had actually sensed that feeling of contentment, peace with herself, she wondered if that might be possible. It was a dream, after all. An exceptional one, but a dream nevertheless. But that was just the first night, she thought back. She’d been in her Garden of Self-Discovery every night since then, moving on a little further gradually. Sometimes she slipped when she stumbled (clumsiness even in dreams!) and some camouflaged opening would engulf her. That’s when she would find herself back in Nightmareland, struggling to break free. It got harder each time, sometimes getting so frustrated that tears would accumulate and she would wake up with a wet face. It’s true then, Kaitlyn thought, just like she’d read in a book, ‘How easily one gets accustomed to a good thing’.

“Kaitlyn? Are you ready yet?” called her mom, knocking her door. That’s what she liked best about her mom. She understood how much her daughter valued her privacy. The colors had already dried up, it was just her and her reflection, introspecting and...... lightness? There, for just a few seconds, it seemed like she was back in her Garden. Just thinking about it made a soft surge of energy flow into her. It seemed to seep into every cell, blossoming and growing until it made her feel warm and light. She realized her reflection was smiling, as if the Kaitlyn-in-the-mirror knew what she had to do. Her choice was made. Focus was all she had to work on. She’d achieve it eventually, she could bring her dreams true, for if you really want something, you can really get it, even if you saw them in your dreams! If there's something wrong, just dream a better dream! Kaitlyn smiled right back and hopped out of the room. Shopping with mom! Exciting! :D 

PS- I wouldn't be surprised if this post isn't clear, though I hope it is! I saw a kids' movie in the morning called 'The Adventures of Sharkboy and Lavagirl' based on a kid's dreams. I liked the way it shows how dreams are capable of being real. The title and the message, 'If things aren't going right, dream a better dream' has been borrowed from that movie. :) 

Introverts: The silent ones in a loud world...

This one is quite different from my usual blog posts, as it wasn't written specifically for the blog, but as a to-be-marked assignment, to-be-sent-for-publication anywhere. So. it's more of an article the likes of which you might find in a journal. Still, what good is it doing sitting hidden and looking lame in an almost empty folder in my laptop? Read on and tell me what you think! :)

Tihana has always been an exceptional individual. Ever since she was a tiny kid, she’s turned out to be how everyone didn’t want her to be, or at least, whatever she did wasn’t really desirable. You see, she actually lived up to her name, ‘the quiet one’. She’s an introvert and unfortunately, it’s always been something she’s been admonished for. Though wrong, it happens, all the time, everywhere. Parents prefer a child who’ll be actively engaging with other kids, staging performances easily, being the gregarious one in their peer groups instead of the one who avoids social circles for solitude. Maybe this isn’t how it had always been, as we’re on the verge of a huge change in perception, thanks to numerous and sudden developments.

Extroverts’ rule

As author Susan Cain points out in her book, ‘Quiet: The power of Introverts in a World that can’t stop talking’, “In the last century, society began reshaping itself as an extrovert’s paradise”. The last few decades, especially, have created an ‘extrovert’s ideal’ as opinions are changing, businesses are expanding and ‘outspoken’ leaders are needed. In any social setting, be it a school, a playground, an office, extroverts are seen preferably over those who’re the silent ones. The teacher wants someone with a loud enough voice to be the play’s lead character, bosses want brisk and quick people who’d perform a task without thinking twice, who’d make effective presentations in national meetings, who’d always have a quickie fix and a ready answer for everything. What’s there to lose, right?

Well, let’s see what most of us fail to notice. One, that introversion is as much of a trait as extroversion. These two terms originating from Carl Jung’s theory of personality, aren’t really opposite to each other, but different traits altogether (as said by Jennifer O. Grimes, in her 2010 thesis, Introversion and Autism: A conceptual Exploration of the Placement of Introversion on the Autism Spectrum). As introversion falls more on the ‘soft’ scale, it goes mostly unnoticed, becomes just an echo among the loud shouts of the extroverts. With no one to hear them, the extreme introverts draw more into themselves, with a feeling of being left-out. There, thanks to lack of patience, graciousness to accept people as they are, choosing an outspoken person just to get the task done, a person loses his confidence. Not bad enough?

Am I obsessed with leapfrogging fish? :|

Two, with all this extrovert preference, introverted kids are constantly pestered to ‘open up’. They’re put into extra-curricular classes after school in the hope that they’d start speaking more often. All of this makes the child think there’s something wrong with him, that he isn’t good enough, that his cousin who’s always winning in debates is far better than him, that his hobbies- drawing and painting, reading and writing, wouldn’t be appreciated enough. As he grows older, he realizes ‘talking up to the boss’ is what is needed to get what he wishes for, that he needs to get ‘better’ if he wants to succeed. After all, that’s how it is always seen. Susan Cain says, “A widely held, but rarely articulated, belief in our society is that the ideal self is bold, alpha, gregarious. Introversion is viewed somewhere between disappointment and pathology.”

Introvert power

What isn’t really spoken out loud is how introverts are actually a source of so much power. It may not be visible on the surface, but that’s the point. You have to peer carefully and notice the small fragments that make up the whole, you have to see the details to see what introverts are actually capable of doing. In a general sense, they’re great artists, writers and thinkers. In a business environment, it’s actually important to not lose focus of introverts as they tend to be better decision makers as well. They think in depth about any situation and wouldn’t make decisions in a hurry, so you can be assured that it’ll have less risk.

As for leadership, Susan Cain says that introverts are better at leading proactive employees because ‘they listen to and let them run with their ideas’ and that for a good work environment, there should a balance between introverts and extroverts.

The world has millions of introverts and it’d be a shame to not accept them as they are and continually asking them to be someone they’re not. We should be absolutely okay with the idea of our child, or spouse to not prefer going to parties, wanting some lone time for their creative pursuits and just live at peace as they want. If we’re trying to change them, it’s just unfounded and immoral prejudice. About time we pause, take a break and stay silent long enough to notice those who’re living like that, silently, at the edges.