Who knows, if tomorrow exists?

“Do I matter?”

 “Am I loved by my friends and family?”

“Who are those that care for me? Genuinely care for me?”

                                             

After a two day marathon of a TV series - 13 reasons why, that I am now wholly addicted to; I cannot seem to get these life-altering questions out of my head. While the entire story revolves around the suicide of a high school girl and some audio tapes that she passes around to the 13 people responsible for her death, I cannot elude the idea and the thoughts of every individual that has intentionally or unintentionally cast a shadow on my life. I cannot seem to wrap my head around the fact that everyone smiling on the outside isn’t doing so on the inside.

As I sit down to pour my heart out after nearly a week’s internal dilemma, I feel a knot in my stomach. I remember the gut-wrenching pain I recall feeling each time I was even close to turning into a ‘Hannah Baker’. I think it is safe to say that I didn’t have an easy teenage, but none of us do and I am very well aware of that fact! When I say this, I do not mean I was a victim of bullying or any kind of abuse. I do not mean I had an estranged family or a friend circle in shackles. I was not in the constant grip of my parents and neither was I a part of a bad school. I think I am trying to say that I did face a lot of confusion and something beyond that , that even today I cannot fathom and put in words. I did have an excellent clique throughout my school and college days and that is one thing I wouldn’t substitute in a sane mind. After continuous attempts and efforts at trying to name the one thing that I feel has bothered me over the years, I am still at block one today. However, upon having decided to write this article, I can feel a sense of content that has taken over my heart and my deepest entrails seem to be calm.

Before beginning to write today, I spent nearly 20 minutes nibbling at the back of my pen with no idea on how to begin. I do not know if I should blame that on my very long hiatus from writing or the myriad thoughts drifting in my head. When I decided I shall put down everything that I can think of, I began with the three thoughts that are right at the brim of my head. I am starting to wonder the genuineness of the times people say they like me. I wonder if I matter at all, and if I matter enough. Because right now, today at this moment, I am looking for proof, I am looking for action and I am looking for effort. I am tired of hoping, I am tired of guessing and I am just tired of filling my head with thoughts that I do not know are facts or myths. Borrowing Mr. Tharoor’s dictionary, let me say I am drowning in a farrago of unreal beliefs, impractical expectations and I am surrounded with a group of people, amongst whom I do not know who I can fall back upon.

To anybody reading this ready to build an answer or a comment around independence or not bothering about the people around me, I have to stop you there! Do not tell me to be independent for I am, do not tell me to be strong for I am more than you can imagine and do not tell me to stop worrying about the people around me because it doesn’t work that way! Maybe for you it does, but I am tired of hearing them. For the ones who know me, you will also know I am so much more than all those mentioned above.

Today, unfortunately I am in a place where I am just wondering and counting the people that actually know me inside out. I am grateful for a group of friends that have dragged me out of my worst phases and sadder than ever, I am ashamed to say that this group of friends has fallen down to two of them. In the 15+ years of my schooling and college, I have been friendly with a lot of people without the slightest clue about the vibe I have given, yet today as I look back our bonds have broken and I feel mean each time, I don’t return calls/texts. No, I am not sad. I am not depressed. I am not disappointed. I am just feeling a mixture of shock and amusement at what I have become. From a friendly girl to someone I do not recognise, I feel sorry for all the hurtful things I might have said. Life is uncertain and it works in mysterious ways.

Although, deep down I knew I was all of the above and I knew what I was turning into, I guess I was just adamant to come to terms with it. The last time a TV show triggered an outpour was when Hodor was killed mercilessly. 13 reasons why has given me a new perspective towards life. I now realise the impact a single word might have and I now understand the need to value relationships and more importantly each day in your life.

For who knows, what’s in store for tomorrow?

For who knows, if tomorrow exists at all?

                                                                                                                  Meghana. Lanka

Montage 2017 : Celebrating Student Shots!

Apart from the day I celebrate my birthday, January 6^th  is one of the days I look forward to and is quite a special day to me. With three close friends of mine celebrating their birthdays on the same day, 2017 gave me another reason to remember the 6^th of Jan, each year!

Montage 2017: Celebrating Student Shots, my college’s first student short film festival hosted by the batch of 2014-2017. It sure is a moment of pride to dwell in the idea that we have started a trend and a chain that will only get bigger year after year. It is rightly said, Inspiration can come from anywhere, I don’t know what good the Goa tour I took last month with my group of friends has done to me, other than giving us the chance to experience the fun and the thrill of a film festival. Films and movies have never been my forte or my area of interest, but the only reason that excited me to do something this huge in a time frame so little was the fact that it involved ‘people’.

I, as a person enjoy working with huge groups of people, and the idea of a short film festival just highlighted the biggest prospect it had: Team effort.  Although, having studied for three years in the same class, I unfortunately couldn’t build a bond with most of my classmates. I never found the time to sit and have a decent conversation, other than while having to prepare for exams, ‘coz notes are something just one among the 80 of us had. But, more importantly I was a lot more involved in my own clique, than I should have been!

The idea to actively take part in this Short Film Festival is a decision I really take pride for. It’s just one of those feelings and moments of realization, that no matter what, this show would’ve been a huge success, but to be a part of it and to reminisce over every learning curve and every never ending discussion is just a beautiful feeling, and something I would have definitely felt sorry for having missed.   

Sometimes, risks give the biggest high I don’t know if that is true and I don’t know if beginning to prepare for a national level event just one month prior to the big day counts as a risk. For us, especially for me, it was the most exciting thing I have done in the last couple of months. Right when I was feeling a lack of excitement and a drop in my spirit, Montage came disguised in jubilance. From designing banners to writing content, from chart work to shopping, from sending over invites to inviting chief guests, from convincing people to register to social media promotion, I have never seen my class unite and set everything in place.

With two wonderful teachers who stood by us, giving us the liberty to experience and experiment and giving us the freedom to take decisions, I have never felt more responsible. The biggest learning that Montage has given me is to take ownership and I can bet that is was the best way to learn it. January 6, 2017 was the big day. Mistakes did happen, there was chaos, little confusions and so many more, but to wash that all down, we worked as one big team, each one taking responsibility for everything they could, each one rising to the occasion and each one putting their best foot forward.

The Girl gang!

I have actually spoken to people, I never did in three years and now I can say I have a good lot of friends with whom I have memories and who mean something to me. I can look back and smile at all the little inside jokes we had and the samosas and teas we shared. Of course, nothing, nothing at all beats the rush of excitement and happiness at the end of the event. It was overwhelming to imagine the success of an event I took way too seriously and personally, and I can’t thank my friends and my teachers enough for letting me be a part of this grand show.

With hectic preparations since a month, tons of decisions, thousands of phone calls and so many WhatsApp groups, I don’t know if I will be able to cope with the sudden monotonous and uninspiring days ahead of me. Again, inspiration can come from anywhere and I am on the lookout!

One month into 2017, and I can already feel a sense of satisfaction and happiness. I am almost positive 2017 is going to be a great year! 

Wuthering Winters!

As the chilling winter winds gained pace, everything around me seemed to move slower than ever. Ironically a drop in temperature resulted in the drop in my energy, drop in motivation, a drop in professional interests and unfortunately the drop has been on for quite a while now. Going lower and lower and lower and draining every ounce of energy in me, writing this piece of work seemed like a humongous task! It is almost impossible to explain the rapport I have built with the warmest corner of my house. As weird as it sounds, it seems like I now have an inseparable bond with blankets and hoodies. Chai has never tasted so heavenly and warm water has never travelled down my throat with such vigor and passion.

Keeping aside the physical aspect of the most dreaded winter season, the last three months have been quite an interesting time for me.  Back from Goa after an overtly enthusiastic trip that did not very well reach the high expectations I built, gave me some memories that will undoubtedly last for a life time and an extended family that I always wish to have beside me.  One late evening at the beach, wind blowing through your hair and sand creeping into your shoes, the aroma of Maggi that slightly arouses your sensory organs and the freezing water that laps slowly at your feet coming back and forth each time with the same renewed energy, nothing beats this silence at the bay of the never ending sea. That’s what nature does to you. The perspective and the clarity you gain is just undeniable. It is rightly said, “Travel to know yourself”. Being away from family was a tad bit strange to me, with the absence of familiar faces each morning and my mom’s beaming smile at the break of dawn each day made me realize that they were the major part of joy that made my day a so called happy one!

Meanwhile, amidst this high, of course the clock wouldn’t stop ticking. Three months from now, I would be done with my under graduation program. Yes, it did hit me late, but I had to begin my quest for a college to finish my PG.  Now, that meant something that is going to shift me from my comfort zone. Three years with a certain crowd and three years with the best friends I could’ve asked for, I just couldn’t fathom the need to now look for a new clique that requires building bonds from scratch. Those who know me, also know that it is just out of my ability to be friends with everyone, I as a person is very choosy in everything I do, and in the act of making new friends, I couldn’t be more fussy! But of course, there was no eluding this process. I had to look for colleges, apply for colleges, write entrance examinations and dread the fact that I have to move away from friends and family.  To be honest, I am looking forward to this new phase of life but not with as much exuberance as I generally reflect.  At this eleventh hour, one thing I can still pray for is a brand new set of amazing friends in an amazing college.

Life is totally unpredictable, and with this settling feeling of unawareness of the future, if there is anything I learnt, then it is the need to

Delve deep into your heart, as deep as poetry, Tangle your veins into calligraphy

Appreciate the synchrony of your breathing, ‘coz it’s all for one strong reason!

As a part of this enlightenment I recently gained, things did seem a little better, a little clearer and a little brighter! Consistency has never really been a friend to me, and I just hope this time it sticks around with me.

One month from now  I have huge deadlines to meet,  an exam to take up, an event to prepare for and so many other things on so many other levels. Unlike each time, I decided not to fret over it this time. Maybe keeping me busy for the next two months is a part of a bigger plan that I now can’t comprehend!

Less than a month for a new year to begin, less than a month for a list of new resolutions that deep in my heart I know I won’t follow, less than a month to make new promises and less than a month to let go of 2016. And I can very comfortably say I am least prepared!  Like every other year, at 12 in the night, I shall begin the countdown and accept the unity in

cluelessness, for this year I resolve to be sudden, to be unexpected and to make impromptu decisions, because I am sure nothing beats the joy of an unplanned success!

Our Own Realm Of Joy!

Contemplation: 

That’s what’s best about imagination. You can live in a world, where no one could hurt you. In a place that has nothing to do with the anxieties of the past and your hopes for the future. A world of your own ideas, thoughts and feelings. Your own set of people and your own bunch of choices.

Maybe that’s what is wrong with the world; no one gets to be their own hero except in a figment of their own imagination. No one takes blind leaps of faith towards being what they want to be, because the one thing that haunts us all is the fear of being a stranger to your own self in the process of becoming your own hero.

No wonder people build worlds for themselves in their heads, I think that’s because no other soul has access to what they have and there is negative chances to contaminate their idea of purity and happiness. Ironically, each person seems to be living two lives, in two worlds, donning two attires, one of pretence and the other the original, except that one dwells outside you and the other inside you. No one understands that when you merge both these worlds that you dwell in, imagination becomes reality.

Involved in the idea of being someone else’s definition of enough, it’s a revelation that one’s own concept is the biggest high of life. Breathing strong through every ounce of disappointment and every brutal heartbreak, the loudest response to this melancholy would be “Silence”.

After all, it is just a matter of time to realize that happiness is a notion that differs both in existence as well as in creation. To me, creating this notion of joy somehow doesn’t seem like a very hard task.

Spirit of Hope

An excerpt my Journal:

A haunting patter of rain drops on the window constantly held my attention. The blissful smell of petrichor and the silence that my house adopts after 11pm. What better time to sit with my favourite journal and begin writing?

It almost seems like every object around me has a story to tell, a story for the world to hear, the blank walls staring at me and the people in the photo frames scrutinising me. It is an amazing feeling of euphoria to be able to hear the scratch of the pen on the paper. The world around me just seems so calm, almost as if I am the only one in the world. Heavy snores of my father and the ticking of the clock, and I thought morning were the best time to write!

Tonight, I feel something special, the spark to write more and more and the urge to publish my stories to the world. As a person with an ardent love for writing, I love to narrate and re-define stories, events and incidents that matter to me. I beam when I realize the little things that matter to me, do to the others too. That is exactly most people would kill for a VOICE to narrate. Amidst, the almost simultaneous trail of thoughts, my loud companion rattled even louder on the window.

Soulfully enjoying every ounce of silence around me, I figured what gave me the high to write. In, an aura of complete darkness, except for a beam of light from the side lamp, there is nothing else that sounds better that the striking silence. It’s almost like magic. The thoughts that calm and silence can trigger. Is it just me? Apparently, seems like I have a new thing to obsess about – A night of silence. In an overly loud world that I usually bury myself in, I wish switching to nights by individual choice was an option I had. They say spirits linger at night, well, I guess they do.  A spirit of joy to one, and a spirit of melancholy to another, or even so a spirit of insomnia to yet another.

Today, for me it was a spirit and a force that helped me write after what seemed like a life time. A spirit that showed me writer’s block is just another bridge I could cross. A spirit of encouragement, almost like unity in cluelessness – the angel of words and myself. 

The Interview.

In the silence of the waiting room, I could hear the thuds of my own heartbeat, the whirring sounds of the fan above my head and the grinding of the coffee machine in the cafeteria across the waiting hall. The weather was pleasant and so was the aroma of coffee, but what wasn’t was my head. A familiar feeling of worry and fluttering of butterflies in my stomach engulfed me. All that ran in my head was everything! Rightly said, silence is the most dangerous expression of fear!

9^th September, 2016 – I was attending an interview for Amazon, my first interview for a full time job. I along with two other friends, there we were sitting in the horizontally long waiting hall eagerly anticipating the sound of our names. The only time we were waiting to be called in public. Sharing an art of synchronized panic, the three of us were a bundle of nerves. Everything that usually distracted us like Game of thrones, Santosh Dhaba and cheese burst pizza, failed that day! All that we could think of was the interviewer we had to face.  36 people around us, all from our own college, and yet there was apprehension! A feeling of newness and a feeling of responsibility. Although, I have no idea what I felt responsible for.  For me, attending a job interview was something I didn’t expect to be doing so soon. No big deal for many, but for me it was a thing so huge that I felt compelled to write about it and save it in my memory for a long time. One of my firsts! J

After a strenuous wait for nearly 3 hours, we were called in for an online test that decided our presence in the next round. Opting for a position that requires good communication skills, our online test was purely English Grammar and I almost felt like I was in school again. Passage reconstruction and dictation, something I haven’t done in the past 4 years, got me excited like a little kid. Grammar has always been my strong point and I was sure to do well. And fortunately, I did do well. Although, during the test I felt time sometimes is both a boon and a bane. With the clock ticking away, I suffered from keyboard dyslexia for a few minutes. Mixing up letters and funnily searching for the delete tab caught me cursing myself. Definitely not very good sign in an interview. In this fit of rage, nothing could calm me and only I know how I finished that test. Walking out of the hall, my heart was thumping and I knew it was time to go home. I looked at my friend seated at the other corner of the hall and telepathy came into play, we realised both of us screwed up the same things and we both knew, we were done for the day! No talking happened and just silence and despair filled us up that moment. We weren’t ready to give up that easy anyway. And yay we didn’t have to. We both cleared the round and were asked to wait for the next. Oh the look on our faces, and the reverberating Hi5, no beating that!

Amidst this happiness, creeped in the terrible thought of waiting for a few more hours for the next round. As a trio, anxiousness dwells in our blood and in the air around us. Clearing our phone’s memory and swiping through the same old pictures was the only thing we could do in there. Squeezing in a few lame jokes and hustled giggling combined with dozens of bottles of water and frequent visits to the restroom we realized we could kill just an hour. Letting out sighs of frustration and glares of irritation, we prayed to be called and realized we were the last two people in the queue. And there was luck slipping away too! Patience is one quality I lack the most, and that day was a true test. My anger reached its saturation point and I was never more glad to have my friends beside me that day!

“Meghana Lanka”, I heard his voice. No more fear and no more anxiousness, just the thought of getting done with the whole thing and going home to a cosy bed. 15mnts in the interviewer’s room and I did my best, answered, explained and pretended to forget how tired and annoyed I was.

Amidst all this multi thinking, reality hit me and I figured I said something that contradicted my previous statement, and I knew the series of questions that would come up would drown me. And perfectly acting out the ideas in my head, they did, though I managed to answer them. I had this strong gut feeling that it didn’t go well, and this time I was right. Though it felt good to hear my name called twice in half an hour, it came along with the news that I couldn’t clear the interview. The sinking feeling lasted quite long. The only thing that was the saving grace was a little relief of attending an interview ((TRMS and Seller support) that wasn’t in my field of study, and maybe that helped me take it up in the right spirit. Honestly, I realized only if I were a little patient and focussed, I would have done way better and only if I wasn’t distracted during the interview, this write up would have had a happy line to end it.

Nevertheless, this was truly a learning experience and now I know the stuff I shouldn’t be doing in my next interview. All that I wish for is for my friends to be around the next time too, because if it wasn’t for them, who else could have handled the restlessness, the continuous chatter I do when I am tensed and the lame jokes that cracked me up at least for a little while. In fact, in the recent past, it was the longest time I hadn’t used my mobile (lack of signals) and if interviews can make me achieve this, I’d be there each day!  

Lost And Found.

Leafing through the pages of one of the most exciting and intriguing novels ( A girl on the Train, Paula Hawkins)  I read in the recent past, no sounds from the TV disturbed me, no aroma from the kitchen aroused my tastes and no beeping of continuous messages on Whatsapp caught my attention. I was engrossed into this thriller and nothing could bring me back from the world of “Rachael and Tom”. It was then that the feeling of nostalgia hit me and triggered a zillion thoughts in my head. 

As a kid, reading books was one of my favourite pastimes.  But as time passed, and as a ton of other things came up, reading, slowly and unknowingly fell on the back seat.  I remember reading through happiness and sadness, through joy and grief. The smell of a new book excited me and at a point, books and some peace was all that I needed to call my day a good one. Those dark evenings when my parents got me books from the library, my joy knew no bounds and those were my most priceless possessions.  I recall reading in buses, on my way to school, at home, while eating, forgoing my TV time to read and also before sleeping. 

Reading gave me a sense of thrill and it kept me occupied. As an idle child, I was not a very good company. My mother being an ardent reader and a loyal lover of books, she has always encouraged me to read. My first ever book was when I was in Grade 4 and it was a Famous Five series. Naturally, as a kid, this new practice of sitting in one place constantly, looking at  hundreds of words with no animation and graphic movements like the one in my cartoons, I was resistant. In fact quite resistant. But no playing with mothers, they know how to get things done. Especially mine, who cannot take NO for an answer, She got me the perfect mystery book, helped me begin, helped me continue and when I came to the last bit, since the book belonging to a mystery genre, I obviously couldn’t put it down, I needed to know the Invisible thief. I did it and there was my mom beaming with joy. Her daughter had completed an entire story book and most importantly enjoyed the process. And after that, no stopping me. All I did was to read, and at such a pace that I finished one book in one week. During my school days, I have the memories of gobbling lunch in 5 minutes and running to the library to get some reading time.

In the process of growing up, sadly I lost in touch with books and they were now strangers to me. Today, almost after a gap of 2 years (sadly!), I picked up a novel, and believe me it is one of the best feelings I have had. The activity of choosing from hundreds of books in a library, to carefully read its review and plot summary was an activity that took up almost half of my Sunday time. Last evening, when I had literally nothing to do, absolutely nothing: This long lost hobby came into mind. Luckily, with no traces of laziness in my body at that point, I immediately headed to the library.

It almost felt like an all new place to me. Having been there a million times earlier, the place felt new, the smell felt new and the idea of being in a library felt new. Unusually, yesterday it had an eerie, forlorn atmosphere because I know it is generally bustling with activity.  I was not quite happy with the thoughts going on in my head, but there’s no running away from those, is there? Feeling new in a place, I have once loved is not a feeling that I enjoyed very much. I was having a strong feeling of Monachopsis which wasn’t what I really expected.  Also, claustrophobia took up a large portion of my mind. No, it wasn’t the lack of ventilation. The library had huge rectangular windows that gave enough ventilation for that room. Deep in my heart, I knew what it was; it was the view of thousands of books before me and more books on the side and many more behind. I felt a feeling of resonant connection with the books there.  I could feel the unsettling awareness of my heartbeat.  I almost felt the guilt mounting up. Well, I honestly cannot explain my thought process at that moment. For an unknown reason, all I could feel was some pain and some guilt for having forgotten my most loved hobby.  That library had the strange feeling of wistfulness almost like a used bookshop, but I made sure it didn’t matter. I scanned through the books and spent a good time to pick up what I felt like. Funnily, I almost built up a hypothetical conversation in my mind, with those books of course.

Yesterday, the 16^th of July, at that library which was my place of obsession during my younger days, I vowed to myself, reading should never become a forgotten hobby once again and for the love of god, I never wanted to feel the way I felt amidst those books.

Picking up two books, I walked out happily, promising myself that I would come back again very soon.

Reading has always given me an irreplaceable joy and the contended feeling of completing a book, no words to explain those.