The Strain

It didn’t work out. You put yourself out there, got out of your bubble and took a chance. It still didn’t work out.

There will be a lit bit of tightness in your chest. Find it difficult to breathe when you think of it again and again: That it didn’t work out. That you’ll have to do it all over again.

“Failed”, you’ll think.

But, so what?

Feel sad for a while. That’s ok. Like John Green said, “Pain demands to be felt!”

But stay in there. Don’t do anything hasty. Feel it for a while.

Then pick yourself up, get back in control and start all over again.

Remember that small window when you put yourself out there? The window that reminded you of how beautiful life can be? Hold on to that. Fight for that.

Live for that window.

It’s not over yet.


Ugly Truth

I guess I always knew it, but I refused to accept it. Untill I was forced to acknowledge it during a training session. It was an activity, the trainer had said. He handed out A4 sheets, a sharpie and couple of colour markers around and asked us to draw. At first it was guided. Simple drawings. When it came to combining those simple drawings to create something unique out of our imagination, everyone, including me, stopped.

He chuckled and asked, “Did you guys never draw as a child?” “No one is going to watch you. No one is going to judge you either. You do you.” He said.

It took a while, but slowly everyone got comfortable in their skin. Comfortable enough to show what came out of their mind. Merge it again with everyone else’s creative mind to create something absolute. Ok, almost absolute.

Thus, the trainer had emphasized, “Think Alone. Think Together.” Creativity isn’t dead. It still is very alive in every one of us. Just that there is a barrier that stops us from exploring our potential.

I made this with a play dough while playing with my 3 year old niece today. It was almost like getting into a meditative state and let my mind break the barrier. I knew it was ugly. But my little one found it funny enough to lift it. Look at it. Talk about it. Play with it. And then take pleasure in crushing it back in the play dough box.

I am now no longer embarrassed of whatever, in the name of art, comes out of me.

A Picture of Victory

She was a vision to behold. Born out of a dream.

She stood, spine erect, her legs sightly apart. Her hands balled into fists, rested softly at the side of her waist. The breeze blew softly through her long, wavy, black tresses. It swayed to the right of her face; a tender lock caressing her cheeks now and then.

She stood tall with a strong armour hugging her body. The silver on her armour shone as the sun rays hit her. She glowed. She had scars all over. Battle scars. Emotional scars. A of imperfections. She didn’t hide them. She wore them with pride.

A small smile played on her lips.

Behind her sat her now small ‘big black dog’. Present yet but not daring to touch her. She had him under control.

Another victory tucked in her belt.

She knew it was going to be a long battle with the black dog. Yet, she celebrated this was a small victory, for now.

She was strong.

She was the strength.

She was the freedom.

She was a live wire with a wild heart.

She was alive.

An Exercise

She asked Jane, “Will you do something simple for me?”

Jane nodded, as she sniffed and stifled the threatening tears.

“Will you take a piece of paper and list three good things about yourself and three negative things?” She asked watching Jane grind her teeth, struggling to compose her control.

Jane looked her in the eye. The second part seemed easy. “I could list more than three”, Jane thought as she walked out of the room.

Listening to the cries and blows of the faceless humans, Jane had succumbed to demoralisation. In her mind she was on her knees, heart broken. Lost. Without a purpose.

Jane, after leaving the room, had sworn that she will not go back to her. Yet the exercise haunted her. The point she was trying to convey Jane, had touched the right spot. Yet, she failed.

My dearest Jane, you beautiful soul, why can’t you see what I see when I look at you? Try and you will find yourself seeing yourself in a different light.

Jane, See!

A Raging Battle with that Black Hole

Regardless of whether you care or you don’t about this situation of yours, do not let yourself get sucked in that pitiless black hole. 

You don’t have to take one day at a time. You don’t have to do anything that everyone asks you to do to climb out of that black hole. 

Do what you’ve got to do.

But, don’t ever give up. 

Don’t you dare.

Keep fighting. It’s going to be worth it.

Everything is going to be ok.

Him, Her and Her Journey

He stood with his legs apart, his hands on his hips. He stood there in the middle of no where. Maybe he was in the middle of a desert. Maybe in he was in the middle of a national highway. Maybe. Right there in the middle, he stood on her way, patiently. Waiting to greet her.

She saw him. Panic gripped her heart. The space within the confines of her car seemed to suffocate her. She wanted to burst out of the door and at the same time wanted to stay in the pretense security of the four metallic doors. Her hands tightened on the wheels and she pressed the accelerator to keep moving.

But, he stood there, wordlessly demanding her to slow down.

“Do I have a choice?”, she asked herself as she slowly brought her car to halt. He was there on the other side of the door. Her hands still on the wheels, she slowly turned her head and looked at him. His face bore no signs of emotions. His eyes, yellow in colour with a small dot for pupil, spoke loud and clear. The black soot that he had spread around his eyes with his fingers added to the ferocity of his steady, cold gaze.

She was trapped in the confines of her fear. Her mind drew a blank. The flight response seemed to start kicking into her. Yet, she sat there, facing her storm.

“Would he cease to exist if I close my eyes?”, she wondered.

“Would he disappear if I breathe in slowly and deeply?”

“Would he ever go away?”

Her heart raced. He had managed to control her. He was successful in making her forget about her journey.

Her head started spinning. A bead of sweat broke on her forehead.

“Breathe!” she reminded herself.

She started begging for him to go away as panic gripped the core of her soul.  At that moment, an agnostic prayed for things to be fine again.

Her eyes remained tightly shut. She knew now she had two choices, as usual. One – to let him, her fear, crush her to nothingness and let him hold her hand and take her into depression. Two – face him head on, confront him, accept him and fight him, and continue with her journey.


What would you do?

And then, she opened her eyes and…

My Wheels in Motion

The birth of an idea – the reason behind a beginning and the reason behind an end. How it formulated and how it is encouraged to take a form, no one knows. At least I don’t.

But, I guess an idea starts because of some random trigger when we are on an aimless path. Upon its birth, it is beautifully crafted and cradled in the depths of our mind, till it gets promoted to a dream.

Dreams. Beautiful, beautiful dreams, which then gives birth to an ambition. Ambition, which makes us believe that we are born to do something great, that greatness itself awaits us, and that we are born to be great and make an impact on the humanity. This is what dreams are capable of.

Ambition then gives birth to a want. A want to succeed. A want to make it big. A want of power. A want to climb. Ambition gives us a direction to our aimless path. It makes the cogs of motion move in our minds again and thus formulates a plan. A game plan.

A plan to mold our direction and give it a goal. A plan to fulfill the wants, to fulfill a wish. A wish that might be mine, might be yours, might be someone who we used to love that is no more. The game plan gives a sense of purpose. A sense of motivation. A sense of confidence. The mind starts a raging battle with the doubting self arguing:

I can do it.

I will do it.

I will fight for it.

This is created out of a purpose. Purpose in our lives. Purpose of our existence.

The path is still not clear. The path is still aimless, but lesser than before.

I can see 10 steps ahead of me. I have decided, I will work on those 10 steps. Then maybe, when I am on my 8th step, I will be able to see the next 10 steps and work on it.

Thus, hope takes birth along with determination. Hope that there is something great waiting for us and the determination to make it till the end.

I do not know what gets beyond this. I think we will get to know it once there is action to all this.

This are my wheels of action in motion.

My Body, My Mind and My Soul

My body, my mind and my soul are my concern. Not yours.

My body was and is a gift to my soul when I was born. I have no control over it. I struggle too. I struggle hiding my insecurities. I struggle accepting my body as is. I struggle to be comfortable in my skin. The strain that bubbles inside, you won’t see an iota of it. The wild acceptance of self that keeps struggling inside, you won’t feel the pain of it.

You and I are the same. Living with our own insecurities.

So think before you point. There is a thin line between being playful to outright hammering the shit out of a person’s strength. Be gentle.

My body is my concern. Not yours. Focus on your body. Look at yourself, like I look at myself. Look at yourself in the mirror. Understand the language your eyes speak. Work on acceptance and try not to make fun when you find someone trying.

Do you think people are not aware of their shortcomings until you point it out? Rather tell me this, do you need to point? Weren’t we taught as kids that it’s rude to point?

Be gentle.

My mind is sacred to me. My mind holds the most precious thing to me – my experience, my knowledge and my hard earned wisdom. It holds my ideas, my theories and my belief.

It weaves stories that I would crave to be alive in reality. It holds the core of my sanity. My mind deals with my breakdowns. My mind consoles me and speaks to me in a silent voice, pushing me where I’m cowering with fear. It makes resolves for me when I find my principles shaking. It builds my foundation. My mind builds me. My mind guides me. My mind holds hand with my heart and learns to walk – tenderly and timidly. My mind helps my heart bray out the strength that it is bubbling within.

My mind. My mind is my concern. Not yours. Do not try to re-orient me. Do not belittle it because your views are different. Do not disregard it because you don’t understand it. Be gentle.

Listen to the voice in your head. Pay attention to how far your mind has taken you, held your sanity together. Would you like anyone shatter it with a few words?

Don’t you and would you not continue holding yourself together? Mind and heart?

Be gentle.

My soul. My soul is what makes me. My soul is exquisite. So exquisite that I am constantly drawn towards it, trying to figure out what exactly she is. She makes me. She puts life in my beating heart. She is the reason I think. She is the reason I continue breathing. She makes me. Without her, I am nothing. My soul.

My being. My core. My essence. My soul.

Touch it right and I’m yours.

I don’t need to tell you how crucial she is to each of us. My soul is my concern. Not yours.

My soul is not for sale. My soul is not open to indulge you or your whims. My soul demands respect. Doesn’t yours too?

Be gentle.

You and I are very different. But our cores are the same.

We have one body, mind and soul. It’s your own concern. Not anybody else’s.

Walk over no one and let no one walk over you.

Be gentle.


Earth’s Dance

Why would the earth care? She will dance and twirl about the sun, bringing about night and day to the life in her tummy. Unaware about the life in her, she would twirl and twirl, without getting dizzy, unbounded by time, slowly moving closer to the sun, one day to happily accept her oblivion.

While she twirls, time passes for the lives she carries within her. The time ticks in a symphony created by her own children. There comes day – giving us time to make life worthwhile and finally comes night to get rest and ready for tomorrow.

The time keeps ticking, the earth keeps twirling. Today lost, will not come back tomorrow. Today lost, is lost forever in time. There always is tomorrow, to catch up and race with time. But, tomorrow is a deadly disillusion. Our eternity is for a limited time.

But why would the earth care? She will keep dancing and twirling around the sun giving us day and night. It is up to us – either we grab the day or let time slip with the night. Because, forever is a cunning lie.