Whoever you are, there's only one you!

Since I'm not any scientific researcher, I can't say things for anyone but myself. Plus, I'm too lazy overworked to actually search for similar findings, so I'll simply stick to my own observation. Surrounded by media at all times, usually not having enough understanding, or even motivation, to look at oneself in seclusion, we are very much susceptible to getting into the mindset of what constitutes 'normal'. It's not defined by ourselves, but by what we see around us. Mostly we say we agree with it, so that's also our own perception of how things are. But haven't you ever thought just about yourself? Seeing yourself in isolation and getting scared at how you 'actually' look at things? Because it is scary, the idea that what you really feel is so different and strange and unreal, yet that's the thing that makes you feel best.

However, like always, that is not what this post is about! There were just a few instances and moments when I thought that perhaps, what happens with me is something that can happen only with me. Those things aren't what you would have anyone else say, 'That happened with me too!' Maybe they did, but to me, at that moment, it felt like I'm just one in all the people in the world. Someone who has something that no one else can have. And that's the thing, isn't it? The beauty, the excitement, everything lies in small details. :')

#1: That's what is on my wrist

Ignoring the small (but awesome) readership of this blog, I'd ask, is there anyone else in the country who would have a silver and black clasp-oval-bangle, exactly like the one I have? Like the one I wear on special days, because it is cute and specially bought for me by dad when he was in a random local market in Dushanbe (Tajikistan). Let's make it easier: at any given time, how many girls in India would be wearing such a thing, brought by their dad from that particular market, just for them? There were no duplicates, according to what I was told, so the possibility of anyone else with the same situation and treasure is close to zero, right? Isn't that something to make anyone feel special and unique?

#2: That's what I'm reading

The probability of a girl reading a book called The Girl With All The Gifts in a metro train in the morning would also be very low. That one time when I realized it, I am sure I was the only one who experienced that moment, the only one to be reading that book in that metro. Or perhaps the only one among all the metro trains that day. 

#3: That's what I know

I'm most certain about this one! I'm the only one who knows stories from my grandmom's childhood: certain details from her life as a kid in Rawalpindi (in present day Pakistan), her life as a refugee in Delhi right after the partition, her relation with her siblings. Discussing it with her children, I realized no one else knows it in as much detail as I do, which leaves me to be the only living person who's aware of those stories. Is that brilliant or what? *_*

#4: That's what I call branding!

Did you know the origin of the word 'brand'? Ages ago when there were slaves, and perhaps even now with farm animals, permanent tattoos got stamped onto the skin to 'brand' them as belonging to a particular person/owner. In the present world, we swear by different brands. A couple of days ago, I was ironing one of my jackets. Realizing that I need to check the temperature, I put my hand on the jacket to see how warm it already was, so I could accordingly adjust the level in the iron. It seemed overly hot, if the way the jacket's logo on the lapel got imprinted on my palm was any indication. I'm not kidding. It's been three days, and you can still see the tiny dots going around in two curves. On my palm! Now who in the world would have that happened to them? o.O 

These are just some recent examples to prove how you don't really need to get your brains eaten up, wondering how to seem different. Stop trying. You're already the only piece of you in this world, unless you've resorted to cloning or getting illegal echoes made. Probably whatever you're doing right now (except reading this blog. It's not only you who reads this -_-) has something in it that no one else in the world would have. Feel special already, dude! ^_^

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Update: I'm so exhausted that it's just the idea of having written a blog post today that's keeping me motivated. It's a Sunday, and I spent the entire day doing some or the other work, the most important of which I haven't even begun! Where do I even start explaining? Probably for the first time in my life, I'm being SO busy (the initial work-time when you get over-excited and take on more work than possible for anyone), that it's just so weird. I don't know how the days pass and I have no idea when I would be able to just chilllllll with a book on a weekend! Speaking of which, I'm not even getting an opportunity to read whatever I want to! Can you believe that? It's because I presently have three things to take care of. All of which require me to read and write and think and be as creative as possible. Plus, all of them have strict deadlines. If that's not mentally exhausting, I don't know what is! I like all of it too, but all I ask is for one day. :| 

I guess I should behave and not fret over it. In fact, the only thing I should be doing right now is to quickly post this and start working, considering the deadline is tomorrow! More than that, I should totally stop thinking about how I just want to sleep. Focus, focus, FOCUS! 

Somebody deflated Scoot's tyre. Again!

It's not something you're supposed to make fun of. Okay? -_-

Yes, I knew there's going to be something that would go wrong. You think I don't feel guilty all those times? A professor's words ring in my ear each morning, whenever I do the deed, a little guiltily. This is what he said, "There's nothing called a free lunch in this world" and these are the precise words that roll over in my head, just before I brush them off, each time accompanied by a chant in the name of God. I'm not used to breaking rules, after all. However high on corruption my country might be. But still. Sometimes the easier way has its own pull and you get addicted to it, especially if it works. Most of the time, anyway.

The last time it happened, Scoot was carefully parked outside a Raymond's showroom. As soon as I put it on it's hind stand, packed the silver/grey helmet in, (I still haven't found the perfect purple helmet. Someone gift it to me please?) I made a mental note of admiration for the thing that had such a big role in shaping my personality to some extent; that of an independent, brave and appreciative girl. If I could, I would have stood there till eternity, smiling proudly at Scoot. But for one, I was "obviously" getting late for college and two, despite the fact that I have dollops of weirdness-awesomeness in me, it's not always a good idea to show-off. People are useless in terms of understanding it, because. 

See how BEAUTIFUL she is? :')

So as I walked away, those words making me squirm with guilt, I did not look back and prayed. Apologies and a plea for safety. After the usual day as I paced towards Scoot and finding it safe, breathed a sigh of relief, little did I know that the relief was somewhat short-lived. It took two rolls of the tyres to make me realize that the back tyre was flat. Either punctured somehow or someone deflated it. Since I was anyway high on guilt, I dragged Scoot with an anxious heart, driving at a snail's pace. Of course I knew that you're not supposed to drive with a flat tyre, but what was the alternative? The nearest petrol pump was ten minutes away, near my place.

*Fast-forward to today* 

I didn't leave dear Scoot anywhere near that showroom again, of course. (Happy Mr. Moron-Raymond? -_-) I found a new place. Still guilt-ridden, though. And it feels even worse because I leave Scoot in a rush, not wanting anyone to see me like that, doing the deed. I stopped turning back to look, like you usually do with loved ones. Of course she'd feel betrayed. She still didn't allow me to bear the brunt of my mistakes. Like a real friend, she kept it to herself, strained herself when I should have been paying a bit more attention. She never let me have any problem. Even today when she was hurt, it wasn't "me" who was the victim. It was Scoot.

Those words had floated in my mind, again. I brushed them off, again. Prayed, again. Had the usual day in college, again. I paced again, like every evening, cleaned the seat of dust, just to find a bum-pattern already in place. Seriously? The major disadvantage of leaving Scoot on it's back-stand is that it becomes easy for welle people to sit on it and chat or whatever. Although I'm all for social service, I'd still mind getting weird patterns on Scoot. At least wipe it off, you. -_-

The doubt began as soon as Scoot was on both it's ... tyres and felt heavier than usual. By the time I drove for a couple of seconds, it was clear: Somebody deflated Scoot's tyre. Again! And I most certainly did not appreciate it. Not even knowing it might have been my mistake because seriously, why JUST Scoot? A lot of people are to be blamed as well, but why target Scoot? She's the most innocent two-wheeler ever! Belonging to the most innocent rider! 

Wanting to just reach home safely, I rode Scoot way below the minimum speed possible, watching the world, including cyclists and jay-walkers pass by quicker than I was moving. Would you call me crazy if I say it was actually fun? And funny? Have you ever been on a two-wheeler with a deflated tyre? Not that it is recommended, because, like I imagined, the tyre might come out completely and you'd fall, or in some cases, burst. And you wouldn't know what happened and although I have a very active imagination, that was something I dared not imagine. Anyway, it's funny because the vehicle moves in a very...... "jumpy" way. I was hopping on Scoot, without actually hopping. :P Just because the tyre wobbled and I was sitting on the moving vehicle. (Again, it is not recommended. Be more alert, unlike me. And use your brain and go to the nearby tyre-walla, ten metres away, instead of the petrol pump, ten minutes away).

It was kind of weird, not zooming past everything. I saw real people, like, live. They looked so... people-like. Normal. They still exist. o.O And they're not really as mean as I believed them to be. No one really cared to stare at a girl hopping past them, even though I must have looked really funny. I mean, of course I was! I wanted to get off Scoot, clap and laugh at myself! Just that I couldn't!

Taking more than double the usual time, I managed to stop at the tyre-setter outside the petrol pump. Feeling grateful to the bhaiyya who made Scoot stand up solid, once again. Assuring me too, that she isn't punctured. :') Considering how Scoot did not let me down by breaking down herself in the middle of an extremely busy main road, despite the fact that she "desperately" needed petrol since forever (eeeps!), I have to say I'm proud of her! :') As a treat, I made the petrol-guy fill in double the usual amount of awesome petrol. :P

The only thing now is, I'm confused. Should I still take the easy way out and endanger Scoot? Again? Or should I make the extra effort and get up early and make it harder for me, instead of for her? The sin I've been committing? Not keeping Scoot in the metro parking, because the main area is under construction for more than two years now and it was a pain to park in that cramped, uncomfortable and extremely far-for-comfort parking. I had been parking it just next to the metro station. Un-allotted space. For free. 

Really, there's nothing called a free lunch in this world. *Sigh*

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     

Up in the sky...

The always downcast look

Moves towards the sky,

With rolling thunder, clouds

And rain, way up too high.

Majestic, a scarce beauty

She sees up above,

Watches what was once clear blue

Turn dark, swirling with love.

Fixated, she watched one

Dark dragon, emanating black fire,

Spread its wings over white-gold foam

Chase a grey lion, even up higher.

Another comes, shakes her

Back to ground, she sighs,

It had felt so heavenly, had fed her

Fantasies, she had loved those sights.

They stepped in the wet

Trod careful little steps,

Her focus now shifted, to

The muck, it might spoil her dress.

But the magic hadn't gone

A drop landed on her forehead,

Again she stopped, looked above

Letting the other move ahead.

There, mystified she stood

To fathom the beauty,

The dark, bright shades mixed

In pure joy, ecstasy, harmony.

A metal bird crossed

Her area of scrutiny, she stared,

In awe as it flew undeterred 

While she stood, as it poured, hardly cared.

The other turned back, gently took her hand

Wiped her tears along with the smears,

She smiled, lingered at the magical sky

Just for another while, back with happy tears. 

This attempt at a poem is to describe what I saw and how I felt while I was mystified with the beautiful sky! I just love the sky, for reasons I can't fathom. I mean, I even love photographing the sky, especially when it's cloudy. It's been raining for the past two days and I've felt overwhelmed with all the feelings it gives me. It's just magical. :) 

Also, this overwhelming feeling is because I have finals next week and you know how I get when I have exams. I can do any-crazy-thing but study. I mean, you know how I've been saying over and over and over how I can't just write poems but I feel like it and come up with one (however silly), when I feel this way. I haven't even figured myself out yet. C'mon people! Even if you didn't like the poem, wish me luck, no? Considering I haven't studied a thing yet. Good luck works! :D