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.

Escaping into the woods and beyond!

#Travel Diaries

Part 1.

My summers usually follow the same routine. During the first week of the vacations I generally have one movie date with my girl- friends and then we meet once more during the month long vacation. My entire friend circle being quite lazy, we find it extremely difficult to wake up and get our asses out of the bed. On the other hand, family trips are a very rare thing in my house; most of our summers are gone in contemplating where to go and how to go. I have been very much used to the tailored holidays I spend. The last time we took a family trip was about 2 years ago to Kerala which was of course phenomenal. But I will leave that travelogue for another time. Right now I have something more amazing and memorable to share!

However, this summer was quite different. No, not about the heat. It was as terrible as ever. I am mentioning about our vacation plan. Surprisingly, we had plans ready by April, tickets booked 2 weeks in advance, hotels booked way before the trip and we had company too.  Honestly, I felt weird as hell, because planned get aways were never our thing, and with both parents working, some quality family time is quite a thing! But somehow, this time we collaborated with three other families and decided to head to a jungle resort in Dharwad and then a road trip to Goa and Dandeli and back to Hyderabad.

Hesitation about the whole program was something I felt till I actually boarded the train. Of course, from then on it was all a happy phase. We and another family travelled together in the train to Hubli and then hit the roads for almost 2 hours to reach Dharwad, a place very much known for jungle resorts. Most of our road trip went in clicking pictures and loud chatter. All that I could think of was 3 days in a resort in the midst of a jungle, towards one side of your cottage is a lake and towards the other side a deep dense jungle. The thought got me jumping on my toes. My mind went for a toss and I just couldn’t stop imagining how it was going to be. 

Sai river view jungle resorts.

We finally reached the most awaited jungle resort, and trust me; the entrance to it was mind blowing. It was an extremely narrow road with trees and twigs and weeds and all of the other stuff that are found beside trees. We first had to walk through this path, very carefully and then get into a huge bamboo raft that took us into the jungle through the waters. The pleasant breeze, the sound of the water gushing, the slow movement of the raft and the swaying of the trees in the jungle, I could stay there forever. And good god, the view. Fog filled mountains that seemed to be touching the                                                                                          clouds and trees and trees till as far as you can see.

 A group of 15 members in such a place of scenic beauty, with no signals in our mobile phones, no internet, no practical connection with anything or anybody of the outer world, you can definitely imagine how it must have been.  To be honest, this was a good and much needed break from a lot of things and this vacation did me so much good.

River Crossing.

With water surrounding our cottages, we got to do a lot of water sports like Kayaking, Banana rides (which was for me the best ride, I can do it like a thousand more times), speed boat, water scooter and most importantly river crossing. Let me just illustrate this last one to you. Imagine hanging upside down over a 40 feet deep river pulling yourself from one side to the other. Terrific.  Till today, it was the best thing I have ever done. Really.  Of course I was dead scared and did not want to do it at the first place, but today I am so glad I did it. The amount of courage it gave me and the thrill I had after doing it, irreplaceable. Hanging above 40 ft. deep water and the fear of falling down any moment, that is what taught me that life could get over in any second. Just live the moment. Somehow, after that I was a different person to myself.  Of course with tons of perspective and excitement, this water sport also brought me an unbearable hand pain. Well, it’s not easy to hang upside down and pull yourself! To anybody, who is ever planning to take up water sports, do try river crossing.

With walks through the forest and occasional treks, some hot yummy soup on the bamboo raft in the middle of the lake and hilarious singing and dancing competitions, we never knew how two nights passed. It was time to leave to Goa, Well, before I move to that part of my travel, let me just say that this part of the journey was most phenomenal because life was entirely different there. 3 days to myself, no internet, no disturbing phone calls, nothing to complete and no deadlines to meet, it was all peaceful and calm and just as good as I ever wanted things to be. No complexities, no disappointments, nothing to worry about. The wheel just kept on moving smoothly. If I had the chance, I might even choose to stay back there for a long long time. But life doesn't work that way, does it?

The team. 

Wow. Now I have gone down the memory lane, and I am sure I am not coming back any time soon. So the other part of my travel should wait, maybe it will come up very soon as another write up!

To those who have accompanied me, CHEERS!  You are a part of my best memory and I am glad you were all a part of making it one hell of a trip. Today when I look back at all those pictures, I realized we thought we were just having fun, never realized we were making memories!

Chaotic Colours and my Choices.

It is that dreaded moment of choice, when you can feel the prick of stares slaying your back and the hair on your neck rise. Well, that is pretty much what happened to me when I was ganged up by the two toughest people to convince in my family, my very own grandmother and her very own sister. Assuming my summer trip to my home town to be fun filled and jolly, I was in for a shock.  What exactly does one do when you are shoved bundles of coloured cards into your face and are asked to choose one best colour to paint the exterior of your house? And what do you do when they subtly try to scare you by hinting tiny facts like, “I am not going to paint it again for 15yrs, choose carefully”, “Choose nice colours I won’t spare you if it’s odd”, “Make sure your mom and uncle would like it too, the last time I chose, they didn't".

 At that point it struck me, I was given the responsibility that once my mom took up, and another time my uncle. Now it was my turn and I had to do what I dread the most. CHOOSE (which I absolutely suck at.)  Facts show that a normal human being finds it awfully difficult to choose amongst the things he likes, be it clothes, materials, food etc. And to prove this point wrong I have tried to choose food from the menu card every time I have been to a restaurant, but In vain. I end up ordering just the same food I order each time.

But May 3^rd, 2016 was different. I was choosing exterior wall colours for our house. No guys, I am not being silly neither did I freak out for no reason, I am trying to tell you that there are chances it can feature on the list of what one finds tough. Why don’t you give it a try? Of course none of us want to recall the nursery lessons on colours and their shades, but however, at one point of time most of us have to, and it is certainly that point when you hold the shade card of Berger/Asian/ or any other paints in your hand. Never in life, have I imagined that the existence of multiple colours can frustrate me. Yes, colours add joy to life, but the existence of their multiple shades, according to me, was only an artist’s confusion when he had to bring to life his work of art, until three days ago. I repeat until three days ago. This time I decided to do it, I decided to choose and make it happen.

Let me tell you, three days after that day,I am still trivially mocked at by a few, a victim of not so very cold stares from a few others and a receiver of mild appreciation from a few kind souls. Inducing an element of flashback here, let me take you back to the events that occurred after I was shoved the colour cards.

The moment my eyes witnessed about ’50 shades of colours’ I kept my cool, and chose the three best ones, and without a second thought brought samples of each of those. Ignoring every ounce of criticism that came my way, the buying, the testing, and the confirming happened in a day.  Yes, you guessed right, I had people telling me that it didn't look good, and that bad just begins to describe it. But this time, I choose otherwise, my choice is the choice. With the responsibility streak I was having, I bought 20 litres of paint and asked the painters to begin work. I should have noticed the perplexed look on their face, but I didn't. I should have paid heed to what my elders said, Nah, I didn't. I should have spent more time on choosing carefully, neither did I do that.

Work began. Colour looked awful. Phone blew up. 

The simplest description of my situation in the last three days.

Well, to every curious reader, I am not revealing the colour I chose, I wonder what was running on my mind when I decided to finalize it. For the next years it’s clearly going to be the brightest coloured house in the neighbourhood and for eternity and for generations to come this is going to remain. Somehow it makes me proud, but also a little guilty for having chosen the worst colour.

Choosing between a group of things has never been my thing. I can’t choose between important things such as best friends, vital things as food and trivial things as colours.  Who imagined exterior wall painting can turn to be my headache?

Well, for now it is done. This might be the most petty thing I might ever write down, but to everybody who is reading this; it ate up my mind for a good three days.

Meghana. Lanka