2015: Here's how you should be for me

Are the years passing by so quickly or what? It all zeroes down to spending all your time either studying through the years and/or being so into technology that you don't realize how quickly your time's running. If you don't believe me, try spending two hours in a sunny park on a winter afternoon, without your cell phone or any other tech device. It'll seem like ages as you peacefully read a book or just watch little kiddies play weird games. Then observe the next two hours at home. Trust me, it'll be a good five hours before you realize how much time has passed. Yesterday, I was talking about a black colour sketch I'd made of a couple of famous personalities, when I realized that I'd made those in 2002. It didn't even seem like a long time, but calculate it and you'd see that it's been more than twelve years! How do you feel when you look at life running through your hands like this? Don't you feel like easing out a bit, living more and running less? With this realization, I've decided to ask God and 2015 to go easy on me.

|      What I learned in 2014      |

Last year, I'd thought that 2014 would be an amazing year, especially since 2013 was just so annoying. It was partly true, because 2014 was a mix of amazing experiences but also some really bad ones. Nevertheless, it was also a year when I learned a lot, and at an entirely another level too! I think I finally grew up, mentally, emotionally, demographically. I'm no longer a formal student (because people like me never stop being students of some sort :P ), and that has marked my entry into another level of life. Surprisingly, it's one where I've learned that fear is overrated. As students, we're constantly being made to fear the 'real' world where there's 'cut-throat competition' and all that blah blah. I personally feel that there's enough space for everybody, if only you truly believe that. If you keep the silly competition in mind, you'll be forever stressed and keep running around and it'll be a long time before you realize that you're not even running for yourself, but for others. We need to really take a chill pill, spend productive time working on bettering ourselves and only look at other, successful people for inspiration, not jealousy.

You might have been asked to change your schedule, plan your day and be disciplined when you were preparing for your Board exams, but the fact is that more than then, you need to bring all that discipline now. Once you start working, if you have any kind of a future goal, you will have to consciously take a step back from all things that are limiting or hurting your feelings, and bring your focus to those that'll help you get better. I talk of feelings because they're more important than things you have or the money you earn. Feelings make your entire world; keep them safe. Protect yourself from bad feelings, stay away from people who make you feel guilty for no fault of yours, or make you wish you weren't with them. You are most important for yourself, because you can never love anyone else unless you're at peace with yourself. Just first and foremost, focus and work hard on being the best version of yourself, and present it to your loved ones. The rest will follow on its own.

I learned that some people will try bringing you down, just because they might be insecure themselves, or just because they can't help it. Sometimes it's not even intentional. Like every relationship, you have to work to make it better. It's no guarantee that it'll be better. If you see that the effort is not reciprocated or even after ten times of talking through it you don't 'feel' it's working, say a genuine apology and walk out. If it really means a lot to you, it'll work out for the better. If not, respect your feelings and do what makes you feel better.

I read quite a lot of books last year, and apart from numbers, I read the kind of books I hadn't read so far. Most of it was because of the entry into a new phase of life and working for it, but I have to say that I learned and matured a lot because of it. New genres, understanding books in depth, being more accepting to styles of writing and content that I positively looked down on earlier, I realized you really have to experience things first hand to understand them properly. The close people in my life have seen this marked, almost funny change. You thought I wasn't capable of making crass jokes, using colourful language or calling people deluded? You'd be in for a surprise the next time you talked to me. :P

I've also learned, after a lot of denial, that the way I wrote my blog posts earlier is a thing of the past. Unless I force myself (which I don't) or unless it's a rare mood swingy thing, my style of writing has definitely changed.

Among all this, I've learned how important friends are, specially when you're emotionally fluctuating from one point to the other; how assuring it is to know that you trust someone outside your immediate family to always be there when you need them. I've learned to cherish such people.  

|      Welcome, 2015!       |

I've been a regular resolution maker. That's how I actually keep my mental state intact, as a matter of fact. While working on a book on philosophy last month, I came across a line that said how it's important to have a philosophy of your own, how you cannot really know your ethics, morals and value system unless there is a set of philosophies you believe in and follow. So that explains how I need certain guidelines I set for myself at the beginning of each year. It's a different matter that the year's also interspersed with interim guidelines.

For the next year, I've decided to take into consideration all that I've learned so far, and consciously tell myself what to do and what things to follow. Most of these are the 'small changes' we can make in life to make it better and easy. These have been created from the perspective of improving what needs improvement and ditching whatever is extra. Let me know if you identify with any of these!

1. Read qualitatively

Participating in the Goodreads reading challenge the past three years, I've read nearly 175 books. It might not be a big number for a lot of people, but it was definitely a delight for me! The past year as I struggled to make the numbers reach my goal of 60, I realized how I'd fallen into the numbers trap. When you read with even the tiniest idea that it'd help increase a number, it's not the same. The more I read, the more I realized it wasn't giving as much happiness as it used to. Add to it the new job, where I figured it'd be better if I sometimes, somehow emotionally detached myself from what I was reading or working on, because of course, feelings. Those brutes need the most care.

So for the next year, I've decided to chill, not make any quantitative goals, read whatever I like or am interested in, with absolutely no expectations. I'd be rereading a lot of my favourites, including the Harry Potter series and some books I loved from the previous years (will update the book blog with the details soon). That way, I'll be reading more for the pleasure (or work) and not because it is a chore. I just can't wait to start! *_*

2. Take care of health

I'm not old, but I've realized that a lot of junk food is totally 'college-y' for me. It just doesn't feel as exciting as it did. Now eating out frequently makes me feel like I've become a baby elephant. To stay healthy and able to fit into my clothes easily, I'd be monitoring and improving my water intake, carrying a water bottle every time I go out, reduce the ordering out food/snacks to once in two weeks or longer if I can help it. More than that, I will not stress about this either. Carrying little amounts of healthy snacks so I won't feel impulsive in terms of food, knowing what kind of foods don't work for me (sweets, cheese and coffee, for example) and such little things make it easy to follow what sounds like a boring plan. 

3. Spend more time with family

I mean real time, not virtual time. It's annoying how people sit in the same room and either watch TV wordlessly or scroll through useless messages on WhatsApp. Oh the malice of those forwarded messages! When you're with your loved ones, give them the best of you, no? Play real games together - do you even know where your ludo/monopoly/carrom board/hangman/jenga is? 

4. Be brave

It takes bravery to stand up for the right things, specially if it is something you've been living with since forever. I think it works better to act and do than simply criticise things or complain. Sure, we need to speak up when no one else is, but it must be accompanied by a strong belief and followed by the right action. Being brave is also about respecting yourself - your limits, your ethics, your feelings. Let go of the emotional baggage. I've decided to simply call it quits with whatever/whoever I feel is dragging me down. I seriously have spent a good part of two-three years recovering from the loss of a loved one, and I'm seriously much, much grateful to those who understood, gave me space and stuck with me throughout. If you've seen the worst of me, you are the only one who deserves my best. So I'm reserving it for you. If, on the other hand, you're among those with whom I spent good times, but we drifted apart during the bad, I simply want to thank you for giving me those good times. It's just that I cannot feel enough to share my life with you ever since I realized that some of you only care about the good. 

In short, I'll just be me. The reserved, shy or whatever girl I have always been. No trying hard for anyone except those who matter. I'd rather reserve such energies for my work, right? 

5. Work. Work hard.

I actually love this phase of life. You're not bound by a certain kind of education, but you're free to pick and choose what to learn. You don't have heavy responsibilities at home, and you can spend time on yourself. The best thing in this case would be to dedicate yourself to your work, learn the trade and gain as much knowledge as you can. This year will definitely be one where I'm a little more sure about my goals, where I want to be, and making the most of what I get. It's starkly different from the same time last year when I was filled with uncertainty. Funny how much can happen in such a short time. So if you have goals to accomplish and you have the time, I guess that's all the motivation you need to get going. Ditch the distractions and just work. You'll be surprised how the rest of your life falls into place. That is, if you do it nicely and right. :) 

6. Help

The last year was also a time I learned how charity cannot be defined, because there are just so many ways to help other people. It's also true - charity begins at home. There's little point carrying stacks of clothes for NGOs when there is a family in your relations who needs it more. Then there are also the little gestures of connecting with people who seem lonely. It won't be a great idea to be the best of buddies, however, especially if you're a good listener. But it really varies from person to person. Just consciously try being a little more kind in general, with everybody, and like charity, even kindness begins at home. :)  

    |     The little things:    |

- Make the bed every morning. It actually takes less than a minute!

Action taken: Already started

- Keep the curtains on the windows open so you can wake up to sunlight. *_* This however, depends on whether or not sunlight reaches that window :P

Action taken: Windows cleaned, space behind it cleared. 

- Start taking care of misplaced objects in the house. Cleaning my room every few months is definitely not enough. If I feel irritable not finding something at the right place, I should myself put misplaced objects in their proper places, right? Plus, it's exercise.

Action taken: None. 

- Make the effort to step down the bed and put that dream-notebook and a pen under the pillow. Did I ever tell you how cool it is to be able to wake up and quickly scribble the part of dreams you remember? You anyway forget them after a few minutes, if not seconds, so why not write them down to remember them for later? I'm not sure what this activity achieves, except feeling good about having a weird habit :P Besides, not every thing has to have a reason. Some things just are. 

Action taken: Managed to mentally adjust getting up slowwwly, and scribbling in the half-light with partly closed eyes. Discontinued since a few weeks; need to take it up again.

- Reduce time spent on social networking sites. 

Action taken: Struggling, but persevering. At least I've managed to block out useless information and not be affected by stupid news, so that's cool.

- Follow the happiness-inducing things I started in mid 2014 when it became crucial to do so. Now that it's become a habit, let it be. :)
Action taken: Been doing it since the past few months. 

- Speak in English. It sounds funny, but I'm a lot better at writing than speaking. I mean, even G gives me a complex sometimes, so you can figure it out. And now that I've made it public, I guess I'll consciously be motivated to do it.
Action taken: Do it whenever I remember it!

- Okay, I've been postponing putting this ever since I started writing the points, and it's not exactly a 'small' thing, but let's just say it is. Learning to prepare small meals for whenever I'm hungry! I know, it's embarrassing to admit that I know absolutely zilch about preparing food. It's complicated, so I won't bother to explain it here. I'll just spend a part of weekends with mom, learning how to boil eggs, for instance. (Goodbye people who would undoubtedly be running away after this! :P)
Action taken: Except for three experiments this year, nothing.

- Stealing some points from a friend's post, I'll add 'preparing and setting out clothes for the next day, the night before' purely because I spend a lot of time staring at the clothes and ending up wearing the same, usual ones without experimenting!
Action taken: Nada

Dear 2015, I hope you've realized that I'm completely prepared to make the best of you. You should be as excited as I am and be with me.

***

A very happy New Year, dear readers! Wishing you all a year full of happiness and great experiences. Thank you for reading my life stories blog and often writing to me. It feels great to have friends like you. :)

Do you have your own set of resolutions or plans for the year? I'd love it if you'd share them with me!

You shouldn't always be 'cool with everything'. Here's why...

There are some things that sometimes make me feel guilty. Getting annoyed at something/someone, not feeling quite satisfied with life, finding people in the metro annoying, feeling dizzy looking at newspaper headlines, or news shows that talk about a monkey saving another monkey as headline news. These are recent. Since childhood, I've accumulated quite a lot of similar stories where I was made to feel, and now I automatically feel, guilty about feeling annoyed/irritated/angry/sad at anything I feel is not quite right. It's a reason deep rooted. We're supposed to be good kids and not shout or crib a lot. Of course we should! That's what kids are supposed to actually do. Because when they don't, they keep it inside and start hating everything that's related to the thing they weren't allowed to sulk over. 

Now in this age and time, despite the fact that it feels sickening, we've seen the relative and even absolute importance of being online. That inevitably led to a shift in thoughts - for the good and for the bad. We're exposed to almost everything that happens in the world, yet we don't feel strongly for any one thing. We have all the information that was never there before, yet we cannot make sense of some sensitive topics. We cannot argue with maniacs who've taken over the social media to spread hate messages, because they're beyond control and influencing other maniacs too. And most of all, we cannot express how annoying all this, because we're supposed to 'just chill' and 'be cool with everything.'

Fine, you're propagating peace. No one is allowed to argue or point out the negatives, but why should the world get away with doing something so stupid? We should start speaking up. Not on blogs, not on social media, and certainly not in the form of protests. Don't feel bad about stopping someone from doing something silly just because you don't want to hurt their feelings or spoiling their time after a long day. Speak up even when someone silences you with a 'chill dude' when you protest against a racist remark. Point out when someone in a group cracks a rude joke. Would you rather feel terrible about the kind of people you hang out with, or tell them somehow that they're wrong? Tell them if what they said is wrong. Stop 'chilling'. It's not helping. Neither you, nor the world. You don't feel at peace anyway. You just think you're feeling cool because you fool yourself into believing so.

Taking yet another helping of a large scoop of chocolate ice-cream because the host is forcing you, letting your classmates make you stay for an hour longer because they're still working, letting go of a prejudiced remark because it didn't seem too offensive at the time, laughing at stupid WhatsApp videos people keep sending, looking at people sneaking peeks at other people's cell phones in the metro, a neighbour's pet dog roaming freely around because they say it's harmless - all these have personally been things I've felt guilty about. Not just about letting all that happen, but also about feeling not-so-cool about it. That's the level of stress expectations can have. Why can't I say if I find something wrong? I'm terrified of dogs, so even if he's a harmless half-lion, I will feel bad if you tell me that I'm wrong to say it's not right to leave it out like that. It makes me cringe when people talk in terms of caste and social status about anyone, and then describing them, so I will tell you that you need to shut up. It's not just about how "I" feel, but about right and wrong. This chalta hai attitude is wrong. Nahi chalta aise. 

When you get into the chalta hai attitude, you forget your limits. You cross an invisible line and become one of those who know no better than to just have 'fun' and live for themselves. You show others that it is okay to deviate, to accept what they might feel is wrong, to become 'cool'. 

Src: pinterest

Of course I don't mean you should always be on edge and snap at everything that ticks you off. Sometimes you just cannot point out things directly. Sometimes it's not required. But we need to be aware of what we're doing, what we're saying and how we say it. It's important to know what you think! Most of the times, we're not thinking for ourselves, but simply repeating what others are saying, or worse, what the majority is saying. Take a break, sit back and just think. How do you feel? What makes you feel bad? How can you make a difference? It's not all that difficult, really. You affect the people around you. Stop doing things that you think are wrong. That's it. It's not difficult. When people would see that you don't participate in anything you don't like, they're going to actually feel inspired. Even if they criticize you on your face, they're wondering how you do it. Some might even say that they admire your stand. And if you feel that it'll be difficult, look around. There are always heroes somewhere; someone who's quietly living the way you should. Approach them for help, they'll never refuse. 

So the next time you're tempted to laugh at a sexist joke, stop yourself and tell the person that it's not funny. You should not feel guilty about doing what is right. Never, ever.  

Theandric Thursday # 10: Best Friend For Life...

Zack is my best friend. He lives down the street in the corner-most house, right at the edge of the woods, which I find equally awesome and terrifying. He's been my best friend for life since we met in the library three years ago, and I found him clutching the special edition comic I'd been waiting for months! I couldn't resist and politely asked his mother - who never seemed to leave his side, and sometimes it seemed overbearing, if you ask me, especially for an eight year old. She asked Zack to hand it to me to read. I suggested that we could read it together, but his mother seemed scared at the prospect, as if I would have hurt him, so she quickly shook her head, forced a smile and took the special edition comic away from him and gave it to me. Anyway, that's a long story, and Miss Clara asked us to write a page a day. Zack is my best friend for life. Mother tells me that I'm quite an unusual boy for my age, which is twelve years, four months and twenty-three days at the moment, not counting the hours and minutes. I could do that too. I have always been able to do that, which is what made Zack interested in a scrawny boy like me and we became best friends. I'm unusual because... well, it sounds like I lack humility, because I haven't yet learned how to phrase words without seeming self-important, but she says I'm a lot kinder for my age. When I think about it, it doesn't seem to make any sense. I mean, Miss Clara tells us to be kind, and it took me a while to know what it meant. I was rather happy too, I will admit, because from what we were told, I figured I was usually kind. But what was the big deal about it? I asked mom once, and she sighed so heavily and smiled so sadly, although lovingly, that I didn't ask her again. Yet, I want to know. What's the big deal if I'm a kind boy? What's so unusual about it?

Benzie left his journal at that. He had already known that Miss Clara would not be reading whole summer journals by everyone in his class, which would be twenty-five. Even then, since he was one of her favourites - and he knew that despite the fact that Miss Clara didn't show it because she wasn't supposed to have favourties - he hoped she would read his journal and answer his questions. He looked at the page again, re-reading his entry five times over, because he did not want to have any spelling or grammatical error. A page a day is too short, he thought, wondering about all the things about Zack he wanted to write. His heart conflicted on a few things, because if he was honest with himself, he thought they were somewhat rude things to mention, like the strange smell of a chemical that fills Zack's house and which Benzie didn't find very pleasant. Nevertheless, he loved spending time with Zack, and his mother, because his mother never left his side even when the boys were eleven, and he didn't mind a little chemical in the air for that.

'Aren't you running late for school?' asked Grandma from the other side of the table while Benzie swallowed what was left of the scrambled eggs on his plate. He nodded vigorously and plopped off his chair. He made it to the door before turning back and planting a kiss on Grandma's cheek.

'Can I go to Zack's straight after school?' he asked, hoping that she'd say yes, despite having been refused each time.

Grandma's mouth opened and quickly shut again. It seemed to Benzie that she'd been about to say yes, but then thought the better of it. However, when he heard her speak, he couldn't have been more surprised.

'Only if you keep a promise,' she said. 

His eyes shone bright as stars. 'Really?' he squealed. 'Anything you say grandma. You know I never break promises.'

She smiled. 'Before leaving school, you have to apply the recommended amount of Klotin. You will not go without doing that, all right?'

Benzie nodded, only after a slight pause. 'I'm still not old enough to know everything?' he asked.

Grandma shook her head. 'It's a responsibility to know everything, Zie. Sometimes you're better off not knowing. Be a good boy. Here,' she took out a blue bottle of liquid, a nozzle on top, and put it in an inside zipper of Benzie's bag. 'Rush now.'

Benzie was happy that he would be allowed to go to his best friend's house straight after school, which was happening for the first time ever! Zack used to go to school, but he started homeschooling right after kindergarten. That's also when he started celebrating all his birthdays with his family and no friends. Till the time he met Benzie, that is.

J.C. Valley Middle School was a twenty minute walk from Benzie's place, but Benzie had fifteen minutes to make it. Hitching up his school bag a notch higher and taking care to stay on the pedestrian path, Benzie started running. Thirteen minutes later, he was making his way to the classroom, breathing heavily. Mr Jones was already in class, his back to the room, finishing writing the words 'Maladies of the current times.'

Mr Jones wasn't particularly Benzie's favourite teacher, especially since he taught them Biology, which Benzie wasn't quite fond of. So they'd be learning about maladies today? Ugh. He didn't even like the word.

'What do you know about maladies?' asked Mr Jones, once the class had been settled.

As usual, Kevin's hand shot up.

'Kevin?'

'An ailment, sir.'

'A serious ailment, sir,' Gina replied sharply. Benzie remembered that her mother was a doctor.

'Very good,' Mr Jones nodded to the two of them. 'An ailment deeprooted, or something that's not easy to resolve is a malady.'

Benzie's stomach twisted itself into knots. He wasn't enjoying this at all. Mr Jones spent the next half hour explaining three maladies to the class, after which Benzie was not the only one who seemed nauseated.

'I'm not sure we fall in the recommended target audience for this topic,' Gina muttered, looking angry. Benzie glanced sideways at her. He usually remained silent in Mr Jones's class, but today he was absolutely mum. The wall clock showed seven minutes and thirty-six seconds for the bell to ring, according to Benzie's calculation. He was about to start thinking about something far more interesting, like stories or numbers, when he heard the word 'Klotin'. Mr Jones was in the process of explaining something, and Benzie realized he had missed it. He peeped into Gina's notebook.

Her handwriting made deep dents into the page as she had written forcefully and furiously.

'... protective chemical... perfumed... mask... safety... flesh... similar to zo-' This was followed by a deep gash in the paper, and Benzie could read no more. He turned his attention to Mr Jones.

'... seems like something from fantasy novels and movies, and if you had any inclination and idea about it, I'm sure you'd understand better. This, however, is real life,' his voice had turned grave, and Benzie noticed how he wasn't the only one equally scared and intrigued. 'The victims then lose sense of smell entirely, except for the smell of skin. Of the scent of human flesh.' Benzie's heart started pumping harder. Mr Jones continued, disregarding Gina's look of pure dislike, which Benzie couldn't ignore. It wasn't her look as much as the angry shuffling of her feet on the floor, even as she sat, 'This malady is presently identified in nine people across the globe.'

A stunned silence reigned in the room. Mr Jones seemed to be enjoying the show. 'Now, who says we aren't really away from a zombie apocalypse?'

'What about those nine people?' Gina asked, her voice strained. Benzie could see her hands clutched together tightly in her lap. 'What happened to them?'

Now Mr Jones turned a slight shade of red as he properly registered Gina's question. Or rather, Gina herself. 'Well, you don't mean to say you don't know?'

What happened next surprised Benzie so much, he was sure he wouldn't do that ever in his life, for it could be so scary for everyone around him. Gina stood up, banging a fist on the table with all the force she could muster, a large tear rolling down her angry cheeks. Grabbing her bag, she cried out, 'No one cares for them! You talk about them like they're an experiment! THIS WORLD IS STUPID!' With that, she stomped out of the class, ignoring Mr Jones's feeble attempts to stop her. Benzie's heart raced. He badly wanted to go after her.

'This was an example of how you are not supposed to behave in class,' Mr Jones spoke in a serious voice, scribbling on an orange detention slip. Undoubtedly for Gina. The bell rang. Benzie spent the entire day looking for Gina - between class breaks, of course, which lasted five minutes - but she was nowhere to be found. By that time, he had already heard rumoured whispers about her, including some as weird as Gina being a zombie herself.

He felt uneasy all day long. Many questions came to his head, and he felt that Gina, with whom he hadn't spoken more than a polite 'Hi, how are you?', would definitely answer some. The final class came to an end. Benzie picked up his bag and rushed to the boys' restroom on the ground floor. He was sure he didn't want the other boys to know about him going to Zack's, especially not when he'd be dabbing himself with four squirts of Klotin on his face and arms, eyes closed. No one understood Zack. In fact, and he hated to recall, some of the boys even went so far as to call him a weirdo. While closing the zipper, he noticed with a sinking feeling, a library book that was due that day. J.C. Valley Library did not entertain late penalties, and Benzie did not want to face mother with a fine on his head.

Sighing heavily, he made his way to the library, hoping he would be able to drop the book and rush back before anyone could make out his strong perfume. To his relief, the librarian wasn't behind her desk, so he swiftly dropped in the book in the Returns stand, and turned around to leave. Just as he did, he caught a glimpse of a figure crouched low in front of the huge windows, bent over a book. He would not have bothered to see who stayed back after school in the library, but he knew it to be Gina, so he quickly went towards her, forgetting all about his perfume.

She looked up, narrowing her eyes at him. Her eyes seemed puffy.

'Hey,' he began.

'What do you want?'

'Umm... I just wanted to know if you're all right,' Benzie replied, unsure if he should sit down. 'I was looking for you. Before.'

'You won't understand. Nobody will. This world is so stupid!' She gasped for air as she said that, and Benzie noticed she had crunched up a page in the library book. He wished she would shut it or confess about it to the librarian, but he felt she wasn't going to do either of the two. She just wasn't there, really.

'Well, I want to. Something about Mr Jones's class was disturbing me too. I just don't know what.'

Gina looked up at that. 

Benzie continued, 'Do... do you know anything about Klotin?'

Gina stared at him. It seemed to Benzie that she was at first angry, but it turned to surprise, and then for some reason... to shock.

'What do you know about it?' she asked, closing the book and slowly crawling away from him. 

Benzie was tired of questions, and he figured if he didn't keep Gina's attention any longer, she would be gone. He realized his perfume now covered their surroundings. 

'My best friend,' he said in a whisper. 'I cannot go to him without Klotin. He is homeschooled. I've been told he is delicate, so he cannot really go to school and play like other boys. You have to trust me, Gina. I want to know.'

It took Benzie a good part of the next ten minutes to explain and convince her to tell him what she knew. Gina told him about herself - her story, her relation with Klotin, and why she thought the world was stupid. Benzie felt hot tears running down his cheeks and surprisingly, he wasn't ashamed of them right then, even not in front of a girl. Perhaps that was because Gina's face was wet too. Klotin happened to be a protective applicant, to be applied on exposed areas of the skin. It was used to mask the scent of human skin, to keep them safe from those suffering from a dangerous disease called kloetinbititis. Benzie didn't even try pronouncing it right.

'We've got to warn them,' Gina said, getting up determinedly. 'I don't want that to happen to anyone else.'

Benzie nodded, trying to rid himself of the shaky feeling that had enveloped his body. He ran with Gina outside the school, and all the way to the end of the lane where Zack's house stood, right next to the woods. 

'You got any more of that Klotin?' Gina asked.

Benzie nodded and handed it to her. A sinking feeling filled him as he saw, for the first time, the true purpose of its use. 

They went inside. It was chaos.

Clothes, big and small, items of daily use, the silver adornments that always stayed on the mantelpiece, everything lay in a heap. In the middle of it sat Zack's mother, feverishly sorting them out and roughly folding them, keeping them in a couple of large trunks. She looked up at the two kids and for a moment, didn't register them.

'Oh,' she said. 'Benzie! Ohmy. I totally forgot your grandma said you'd come over!' she sounded frantic, getting up and coming over to them. 'You brought a friend?' she asked, glancing at Gina.

'I know,' Benzie said in a tearful whisper. Zack's mother froze. 

'Know what, dear?'

'About Zack,' Gina said. 'You've got to hide him. They're looking for such patients. Mr Jones told us in class today and I checked with my mother right before coming here,' she said in a rush. Benzie noticed how she had used the word 'patients' instead of what Mr Jones used - victims. 

'But... you... You're mistaken, kids,' Zack's mother said, forcing a smile. Benzie had seen too many of those to know what it was.

'We aren't,' he insisted. He looked around. 'You're leaving? Where's Zack?'

'My dad is one such patient,' Gina muttered, looking steadily at Zack's mother. 'He was taken away. He's one of the nine patients identified with the disease. I don't know what they're doing to him, but from what I overheard mom saying, I know it's not something pleasant. They talk about him like he isn't even human!' 

Zack's mother finally seemed to trust them. She looked tenderly at Gina and said, 'Thank you. We got a warning from someone I trust, and we're leaving. I... I'm really grateful to you. I will pray that your father is safe, and that you'd meet him soon enough.'

Gina shrugged. 'Can we see Zack? We've got Klotin on us.' Zack's mother nodded. Benzie ran towards Zack's room, Gina in tow. 

Zack was standing in front of his toy-cupboard, a large trunk behind him. 'You're late, Zie,' he said without turning around. 'I feel terrible, Zie. We're going away. We-' he stopped as he saw Gina.

As for Gina, she was looking at the strangest boy she ever saw. Nearly a foot shorter than them despite being the same age, Zack was a small boy, his legs rather thin. His sweet face was an entirely another matter. His hazel-brown eyes seemed like they were perpetually in wonder and his thin lips presently curved into a small smile.

'Hi,' he said, not coming closer. 

'Hi,' Gina replied. 'My name is Gina, and I'm Benzie's new friend. Nice to meet you, Zack,' she replied politely. Zack nodded. 

'We're going away, Zie,' he repeated, looking at Benzie, his eyes becoming sad.

'I'm so sorry about that,' Benzie replied, going over to where Zack stood. 'Is it far? Where you're going?' he asked, even as he knew the answer.

'Yes.'

The two boys stood for a moment, conscious of Gina's presence. 

'I'll be waiting for you, Benzie,' she said, turning to the door.

Zack's eyes filled with tears. 'I don't want to go,' he cried. Benzie couldn't help feeling a deep sense of sadness. It was a grave sensation, something he had never felt before. He was too young to know that it was grief. The crying boy in front of him had been his companion, Star Wars and Harry Potter quizzer, playmate and best friend for life. Looking at him without his mother for the first time, he realized how difficult his life was. Suffering from a rare disease with no treatment yet, a boy of eleven, unable to meet other people randomly as other people normally did, for fear that he'd smell their flesh and react to it, living in a house full of chemicals just so he didn't react to his loved ones', or even his own, flesh. He was sure if he were Zack, he would have been a very unhappy, crappy kid. But Zack was the best. He was always polite and knew things even adults wouldn't know. Benzie didn't know what he would do if Zack wasn't there.

Zack wiped off his tears furiously and turned to his trunk. He took out a photograph of the two of them. Benzie remembered the day. They'd spent an entire afternoon staying in the tree-house Zack's mother had built on one of the trees from the woods, the one closest to Zack's house. It showed the two boys, aged nine, grinning cheekily from the tree-house. 

'I have a copy too,' Zack said, showing him another one. He flipped it over and wrote, 'I'll always love you, Zie. You're the kindest boy ever. Your best friend.'

Benzie took the pen and wrote on the other picture, 'Always your best friend for life, in heart and soul. You're the bravest boy ever. Love, Zie. Xx'

As if on impulse, the two boys came forward in a long hug, and Benzie realized what Gina meant when she said the world was stupid. Here he was with Zack, a little boy who was the best boy if you came to know him, and he thought he was lucky to have him as a friend. He felt all the times they'd spent together running in his head and heart at that moment, and he felt he hadn't ever been equally happy and sad before. The world was stupid because the world didn't know what this feeling was, how wrong it was to scare off Zack and his nice mother who did everything possible to keep him safe. The little boy had never been responsible for as much as a scar on Benzie, and here he was, frightened because the world was after him for something he hadn't done.

The boys tearfully smiled at each other. 

'I'll write you loads of letters,' Benzie said. 'You will have to tell me about any new friends you make too.'

Zack considered that. 'Won't they find me weird, like the boys here?'

'Well,' Benzie replied, 'they're the stupid ones. I think you will find a smart boy like me.'

'Maybe. Maybe I'll get someone who can actually beat me at a Star Wars quiz,' Zack said, sniffing. 

'I did beat you twice.'

'Didn't.'

'Totally did!'

Then they both burst out laughing. After a pause, Zack said, 'I think you should make Gina a friend. She seems nice.'

'Indeed. But I'll miss you, too,' Benzie said. 

'I know.'

***

Benzie found out, a few days after Zack's departure and getting his Grandma and mother to tell him everything, because he knew most of it anyway, what his mother meant when she said that he was kind. 'You had it in you even before we put it there,' she explained, 'while other boys looked at Zack's small frame, you looked at his friendship. You never questioned the dabbling of Klotin if that meant you could spend time with Zack. I can't tell you how grateful his mother had been. Zack had been craving company for so long. You gave a little boy the very thing that's most precious to him - the gift of a true friend.'

Benzie was honest with himself. He respected his mother's viewpoint, but to him, it was entirely the opposite. He wanted Zack to be his friend. So what if he didn't look exactly like others? So what if he didn't go to regular school? He was still a great boy. Gina had been a regular friend from then on, often telling him about her father, after which Benzie missed Zack all the more, but he thought that Gina couldn't really talk about her father to anyone else, and she seemed much happier after that, so he let her talk. 

One evening while the sun began turning a shade of red, and Benzie and Gina were returning from the park, they crossed Zack's house, and as usual, Benzie paused. 

'Do you believe he'll be all right?' he asked bravely, for this was one burning question he needed answered.

'Of course,' Gina replied, taking his hand and leading him away, 'it'll happen when I grow up, because when I grow up, I will show this stupid world how wrong they are. I will find a cure.'   

***

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 this picture on your post and link back to this post.

Different sides of survival...

It's a summer day, incredibly hot and I'm in my t-shirt and pajamas, sitting on the cold marble floor of the drawing room, with my back against the sturdy table, cooling off in front of the cooler, loving the way my hair keeps sweeping over my face (unlike normal people who find it irritating). I have the laptop open in front of me and I'm just wondering what to title my new post on the different kinds of kids (seriously. Next post on that!) when I notice our housemaid outside in the verandah. I don't notice her immediately. I mean, I didn't even realize when she passed me, opened the door and started wringing and hanging out the washed clothes on the clothesline. I look outside because she's speaking loudly. There's an old lady at the gate with whom she's talking loudly, in a tone that suggests she's not interested and willing her to go. A hundred emotions flood through me, because let's face it, I've a soft spot for old ladies.

I read books, so I know better: about people, about different kinds of moods and psychology, about how to behave and whom to trust, how not to judge without knowing anything beforehand. People expect me to know all that. But then sometimes, there's something that breaks all rules. A grand exception and you can't think clearly. It's instantaneous. Just like this emotion of irritation, anger, the urge to get up and scold the maid for being so rude, that came flooding into me just within a second. I looked towards my parents and asked them to go have a look immediately. Mom gets up fast (umm.. we all have a soft spot for old ladies) and I reach the door before her. The maid looks at me angrily, complains to mom in a violent whisper, 'Besti kara dete ho meri'. She was apparently, telling her no one's home and asking her to go away, which was akin to a sin!

That lady was still smiling. Standing close to the gate, clutching the bars, she smiled up at us holding two packets of a summer drink powder and a pack of 4 Vivel soaps. She's been here before. Today she's in a plain yellow cotton saree with an off-white cotton sleeveless blouse. Her brown skin hangs loose among the million or so wrinkles all over her body, her cheeks visibly chubby, though drooping, on both sides. Her hair's in a pure white bun, with a few strands hanging loose. I still don't know her story, though I remember the last time she was here, she said she lives somewhere nearby and as she gets bored sitting at home with nothing to do, she thought she might as well go door to door and sell stuff and bring in some more kamaai. The glaring sun doesn't seem to bother her. When people like us run off inside for shade and comfort, there are some like her who're happily going from door to door, contributing to their family for food.

I opened the gate and Mom sent me off to get a glass of water, while she took what she wanted from the lady (those two juice packs and Vivel soaps!). They chatted for a while as she took out more things asking if we use that oil or a particular handwash. What I liked best was her permanent smile, even as she talked. Mom handed her the money and she told her how she's been here three or four times before but we weren't home. I wonder if it was the maid who sent her away, or if she came on the days when both my parents are working. She took out a couple more things from her small yellow zipped bag, held them in one hand, hung the bag on one shoulder and carefully stepped down and out of the gate towards the opposite house, politely asking us to close the door behind her.

***

About a week ago I was in my small bus to the office. I always sit on the window seat, last row. At one of the red lights, lost in thoughts with headphones plugged in, I saw a sad, peculiar scene. There was this u-turn kind of a road, the ones where there's an enclosure with fences around and a roundish footpath around the whole turn. A man in a torn and dirty shirt and pants, with an indifferent expression stood there with one hand on a metre-long pole, his bare foot repeatedly hitting a year old baby. A woman, no older than in her late twenties sat near his feet, her knees held up, just not very close to her chest. Her hair was dirty, an indistinguishable color, just like her saree which clung to her thin body. Her most striking feature were her eyes. She was staring straight ahead, unblinking, and if you'd have glanced at her, you'd think her expression is blank. But the bus stood there for a while and I could see her black eyes shining. With sadness, helplessness and something that said, "I've given up". The baby in a small set of clothes that were visibly inadequate was bawling as the man kept on moving his foot and hitting him on the side. He tried getting up, made it through a fraction and then sat back again, crying, clutching the woman's leg, who sat just staring straight ahead.

Suddenly she looked up and locked eyes with mine and I felt like a filthy thief, an intruder peeping into something personal. It was devastating. With both these instances, I'm not sure I feel pity as much as I feel sad about everything. Is it the matter of choice? I think not. We don't give money to beggars thinking we're only encouraging their business, but I wonder if they really benefit from it? I'm sure they wouldn't be in this business if they had any choice or a shot at something better. They're poor, deprived and taken advantage of. They don't know what home is, they're not sure when they'll have their next meal. I personally despise this 'Survival of the Fittest' theory. I hate the differences we have in the way we live. Everything should be for everyone. Maybe not that practical, but why should some suffer, just because others have better luck?

I wonder if I've really got the right to complain about anything in my life. I had this thing going on in my mind for a while. Whenever I saw someone with less than what I have, I felt guilty about it. I felt guilty about going to malls and purchasing stuff on impulse, or just because I wanted it. I thought about those who don't have a room with electricity, who wore the same set of clothes everyday. What I had seemed like a waste. I was totally conflicted. I asked dad if we should start spending less, because others didn't have it all? Or whether we should do our bit to help and that's it? Dad said that while how I feel about it is good, it will not be a good choice to leave what is there for you to use, just because millions others aren't lucky enough. It's our luck we have these things, they might not be so lucky. There are millions others who have so much more than you. Do they ever stop living life their way and come down a level in their standard of living, because they see you don't have what they do? No. The point is to enjoy what you're being given, while helping others as much as you can. It's mostly luck.

I guess it's true. These might just be the different ways of survival.

PS- Please some good soul, give me a nice strong kick on my head! I've already delayed working on my summer internship project by a week and I'll be officially branded mental if I don't complete it this weekend. I mean, I have to do it by this weekend. I've got like, two weeks before the dreaded college reopens and I haven't even started getting into the holiday feel. I've got some college work to do, catching up with Spanish, making a papier mache flower vase for someone (any ideas??) and of course, read the million pending books on my TBR. Motivate me!

PPS- This is my blog's 101st post. :D I'm not much of a celebratory person, considering how I skipped to even mention my blog's third birthday, which was in May. But still, 101st post. That's loads of writing. :D Yay with me! ;)

The “Greater” creatures – Homo sapiens

Life is beautiful, or at least, it is supposed to be. We’re incredibly lucky that God chose to bless our souls with a human form. We’re living a comfortable life, being educated, building plans for a great future, investing our time an vigour into ‘creation’ – creating things, inventions, innovations promising to make our life even better. We have the power of controlling our minds that make us ‘intelligent’. We can talk, create, build homes, and build lives. We have the power to do almost ANYTHING!

As a human being, you have ‘greater’ powers than other creatures; why don’t you try to make life better for them too, other than just your own? God didn’t put us here on this planet to meddle with his creations. We’re supposed to live, to use those resources carefully and make living an enjoyable experience, for us and all other living beings. (Don’t get me wrong, I’m not asking you to abandon cities and start living in the middle of a forest on wild fruits and leaves!)

Think about it, aren’t you only concerned about YOUR family, YOUR business, YOUR job, YOUR habits and also, YOUR choices? Do you even care how it is affecting others? However rigorously you may shake your head from side to side, showing those big bulging eyes, I know you don’t. Even if you do, there is some motive; you will be getting something out of it, wont you? Only a few great souls like the beloved Mother Teresa can provide selfless love.

And it isn’t only about humans.  A situation that arose recently in our colony made me think about what people’s priorities actually are. Everyone wants to stay in their comfortable cocoons, troubling to get out only to shoo away something that’s troubling them.

It had been THREE days since the street dog (a bitch) had been stuck underground. Weird, you say? Well, there was this small hole recently dug at the side of the ramp* of a neighbor’s house. This dog was about to give birth and had gone inside this seemingly ‘safe’ shelter. That’s because another dog, from another lane, had killed all her babies previously; kyunki ye patli si hai and wo moti and strong, as the littlest kids tell me. Clearly, tragedies aren’t only prevalent in our lives. These creatures suffer tragically and endure all the pain in their strong strides. It doesn’t mean they don’t have feelings. Have you ever noticed a tear in a dog’s eye? You should, you’ll start loving life more.

Anyway, the poor dog had gone deep inside and while coming out with the pups, one of its legs got stuck in the mesh of underground pipes! It wasn’t able to come out at all, and it was SO deep, no one could even see (except with a flashlight). A day passed, people gave pitying looks to the rock solid ramp, some staring, as if they had x-rays fixed in their retinas, to see or wonder what the dog’s condition would be. I saw the kids being the most affected. They stood in shock, listening to the wails, trying to figure out a way to help. The second day, someone called the MCD (Municipal Corporation of Delhi) and as it is expected in a funny city like Delhi, we got a huge, magnanimous Fire Ambulance instead. The fire truck came, saw the situation and said, “Ye hamara kaam nahin hai, MCD ko bulao” (this is not our job, call the MCD) or wait for two days, it might come out on its own; and went away! With nothing to do, the people went and slid back into their comfortable homes, while the dog with the pups was stuck inside with a painful leg, in a stifling, watery hole, without food or water, wailing loudly. Night came and the wailing stopped. One could hear people murmuring, “now they’ll have to break open the ramp anyway to get the smell and the dead dogs out, poor people, kharcha aa jaega inka toh” (they’ll have to pay for the expense). Heck, doesn’t anyone care at all? You felt bad because the owners of the home would have to pay, not because a life (and probably four more) had to end in such an inhuman manner? But wait, why would you, those creatures aren’t human, right? For heavens’ sake, didn’t you see its companion, sniffing all around frantically, wailing, and probably trying to call her? Why was it running around looking under cars or in the staircases? It isn’t just you, who has a life. Respect other lives; anything can happen with you too. I felt terrible. Even though I was always against my brother and dad feeding them with milk and bread occasionally, since they were always running around our gate, I felt a deep sadness seeing the poor companion. I wished I could have helped.

The next day I returned home from college, and to my delight and satisfaction, I heard the dog’s wailing! It was alive! Not wanting to miss this chance, I immediately set out, trying to talk with the home owners who wanted the dog out. They were compassionate people, thankfully and ensured their full support. The chowkidars were called in and asked to break open a part of the ramp, a little away from where it was stuck. An opening created, the people peeked in and saw the stuck dog in defensive mode, trying to struggle to keep her babies close. A dog in distress doesn’t know you’re trying to help; and angry and dissatisfied as it was, it was dangerous at that moment. We decided to call an animal shelter, which could free the dogs and take them for treatment. They came, made another opening, in the course of which one of the two guys got bitten by the dog. Angry and agitated with the situation, they went away after tying close the dog’s mouth, so it wouldn’t bite.

In the meanwhile, people started complaining about the racket that was being created by the dogs and the thump-thump of the hammers against cement. They wanted the dog out so that they could sleep in peace.  At last, a middle-aged woman, who had been helping with the process the whole time, called her husband from work to help. He came within half an hour and with a few tricks, made a comfortable way to slice the pipe, without the danger of the dog biting. There was this man in Reebok and Dockers, sawing away at the pipe in the heat, to save an animal’s life. Wasn’t it amazing? 

Finally, after whole six hours since the process started, the dog was free. Some people fed it with milk and went away satisfied. Some others didn’t bother; they continued living in their cocoons, trying to make more money probably. It was both a happy and sad moment for me. I felt extremely self-satisfied and happy. Hey, we prevented a small universe from being broken. The dog was alive, and so were its babies. But what hurt was the attitude of the residents, who didn’t really care. After all, it’s only a street dog, they say. I wanted to ask them, what if it was (God forbid) a little kid? People would have gone gaga over the issue and the kid would have been back with his doting mommy within half an hour!

The world isn’t just about you. Learn to love, show sympathy and extend a helping hand. The intense satisfaction and pleasure you experience would be much more than what you get sitting home watching the stupid TV. You are a ‘greater’ creature, show and prove it too. Help others. Love life. Live life.  

*ramp- a slope usually made of cement in front of a house.

Unheard Wish.

It's not a perfect poem, but the words express the feeling.

Making a wish, "If only I had ..."
Every night I went to sleep

Without a care in the world,
I enjoyed those luxuries.

Until I came upon an unknown soul ,
The hungry eyes that followed me
I turned around and saw them,
still watching fixatedly.

I see her tear her eyes from me,
She glanced at her hands, black with soot,
Her dress, the color not distinguished
Her hair, black or brown, it was all so crude.


She turns to her mother, tugs at her sari,
Secretly pointing me out
The mother puts an arm around her and tries to assure her,
Maybe for getting a dress like mine,
I'm shocked at seeing the trustful smile,

I wonder if she'll be able to have one, and feel terrible, thinking
I just fought with mom to buy me a designer, while this girl
can only dream of owning a clean , pretty dress she's comfortable in.

I look at my shoes, annoyed because mom got them from the sale
I look at her, the plain rubber slippers with a most visible repair.

I look at the hut, bricks and thatch, family of five cramped tough,
no electricity, no place to clean
while I always wondered why my room isn't big enough.

I felt shameful, just looking at her and grateful for all,
since it is the best one could wish for. I promise
not to wish more but, to give more,
to them,who just wish for something small.

I pledge to help her, I try to smile ,
But she turns away and goes inside.
The next morning, I carry a bag, filled with stuff, clothes and shoes I don't need
any more, I reach the place, but the hut is gone.

I see them turning around the corner, the family of five,
The girl with a bag even lighter than mine,
Probably in search of another place to settle in,
Till the time some other policeman threatens to turn them in.