#Sundays- Internet Friendships & Happiness.

I forgot last Sunday effectively.

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Another Sunday. I skipped the last one, because of very stupid reasons, but what’s gone is gone, and I can’t keep fretting over it all the time. So hey, I forgot to post last Sunday. I’m unproductive sometimes(the entire week), but hey, nevermind.

And it’s that time of the year. Friendship Day. A bit weird how we need a particular day to declare our love for our friends, but the same can be said about Mothers’ Day, Fathers’ Day, Valentines Day, etc. Although I’d like to believe if someone is your friend after a particular age, you know whether they are here to stay or not. Why do you need a particular day for that? Although sometimes a declaration from friends about how much you mean to them, could mean a lot. Moreover, it’s funny how people judge other people based on how they became friends with someone. I have friends I met over the internet, over a band obsession I had in high school, and we still talk. It’s been about 4 years since then, I’ve met them now, and we’re still pretty much in touch, and I know if I need any help, they’ll be there. In fact, I know if I ever find myself alone or lost in their hometowns, they’re just one call away. And for some reason, it makes me feel safe.Β  I’m not promoting internet friendship here or saying that everyone should add random people for friends, but I do believe that some things are just meant to happen, and friendships are one of them. Sometimes you meet people, and you just connect. And I’m not even the most social person there is. Hell, I’m the total opposite. And I still believe that certain people are meant to walk into your life and to stay.

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Image Source: pexels.com

Also, a good conversation with a friend resulted into talking about Happiness. I’ve realized how aimless I am about what I see happiness as, in future. But maybe I do not need to see it as something in the future, but something that I’m supposed to achieve now. But currently, I’m a little tired of actually achieving anything in general. Moreover, I think, hope is what we all live on. We all like to hope for a better tomorrow, and it acts as a driving force for our present. So when I say, that I don’t really have much that I’m actually looking forward to, then what is my driving force here? And yes, I have a lifetime to figure out what I’m doing, and making peace with being this lost, but then I also wonder, if I really do have a lifetime, or is that something I keep telling myself, pretending to buy more time for myself, while my clock ticks by, each second as important as the one before..

 

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#Sundays- Writing, Peace and Winter.

so much written ah πŸ™‚

With each passing day, I grow lazier. I’ve been at home aka my PG room for the past 3 days, and you’d think I was at least a bit productive, but nope, nothing. What is saddening, is the fact that how once upon a time, I could eat up books in a matter of hours, and now I can’t even finish reading a 20-page book in 3 days. What a pathetic state. And when my reading has reduced this much, one can just imagine the condition of my writing skills.

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Image Source: pexels.com

Every night before I sleep, I turn the lights off, and open the curtains slightly, to let a bit of the light from the streets pour in, and illuminate my room with a dim yellow shimmer. As I do this, before I go to sleep, I stare out the window, and onto the quiet, lonely street that I stay on. This is usually around midnight, and not a soul is around at this time. The street looks as lonely as it possibly could under the dim, depressing yellow streetlights, with no animals or people engaging in any sort of activity on this tiny lane. As I stare out at this point, a scenario which I might just have described to be depressing gives me immense peace on the inside. How? I don’t know. But something about just sitting at the window, in a room full of darkness, staring out into an empty street, a cozy blanket around, is very calming. And the silence of the night hour also gives me time to ponder over things. This is precisely the time, when I think about writing, and what I should be writing, and why am I not writing. And this is also precisely the time when I decide that I’ll definitely do it the next day, and end up not doing it. And I know, the only way I can actually accomplish it, is by actually starting and not waiting for motivation to happen. Let discipline take the cake, and I shall definitely try, but then again, there are too many pending things, and I know that unless I start finishing them off one by one, there is no way it’s going to happen but I experience a slight gap between knowing what is to be done and actually doing it.

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Image Source: pexels.com

Also, lately I realize that I haven’t written poetry in so long. Every night I think of that too. And I don’t know if it happens to others, but sometimes there are certain things I see, certain people I meet, or certain incidents that happen, that make me go, “Hey I could write a poem on this.” Now it’s not like I’m meeting these people, or experiencing certain things just so I could write about it, but it’s like an involuntary action happening, where my brain just immediately clicks and asks me to pen it down, it’s just that I never really get to it. Moreover, I remember a few months back I was pondering over how my writing style has changed, especially with respect to poetry as I went from writing pieces with choruses that would fit a rhythm and meter, to just long pieces with rhyme and tune to free verse and to narrative style. And it’s nice to see that, but I just felt like as I moved to more free verse and narrative, the sense of music started to slip out, and as much as it’s not a bad thing and these are individual styles in itself too, a part of me really doesn’t want to let go of the previous ones. These are where I started and I still would love to go back to the same. Write to the music in my head.

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Image Source: pinterest.com

Today, I was discussing with a friend how certain people just use fancy words while talking or writing just to sound smarter. Now to me, writing is about communicating something so I believe it should be simplistic but at the same time good enough to convey the message you want to put across/make another person visualise something well enough. But then again, the simplicity of writing is a subjective concept. What is simplistic to me, might not be the same for the next person. Maybe I’ll feel dumb for not understanding certain terms, and the other person just finds these same terms normal. But what might be a good thing to do here, is probably find out what these fancy words you don’t know mean are. Not only would that add to one’s vocabulary, but also make them realize if the person writing/speaking is making any sense or not.

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Image Source: fanfest.com

And, lastly, tomorrow morning, the first thing I do, even before I brush my teeth is, turn my laptop on, and download the first episode of Game of Thrones Season 7. Because WINTER IS FINALLY HERE. The Great War is here. And anybody who gives me spoilers should know that I choose violence πŸ™‚

 

 

#Sundays- Rains and Longing

I might be a bit obsessed with rains..

As I write this, with a stomach overly filled because of my inability to stop eating when there’s good food, regardless of how full I already am, I look back over the week I had, my eyes slightly drooping as the clock strikes 11:38 pm. Funny how doing absolutely nothing can also tire you out.

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Image Source: http://www.pexels.com

Over the past week, I had the joy of witnessing a lot ofΒ  rains in my city of Mumbai. However, these weren’t proper downpours, the kind that I like. But rains nevertheless, appreciated by the pluviophile that I am. A part of me awaits to go to Bangalore and move into my new room, which is closer to the terrace so I can go to the terrace whenever it rains, and just sit there enjoying the feeling of water droplets falling all over me, consuming me. What I have also come to realize is the different scenarios associated with rain needn’t necessarily feel the same to all. Like I always thought that reading a book as it rains, and sipping coffee at the same time, is a heavily blissful experience, but as someone who tried it, let’s say I didn’t particularly enjoy it. It wasn’t bad, it was just not out of the ordinary for me, individually. On the other hand, sleeping to the sound of rain pouring outside, hitting on rooftops and making noise has got to be one of the best feelings to me personally.

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Image Source: http://www.pexels.com

 

It really needs to pour for a few days at a stretch here in Mumbai. It bothers me to know that these showers can’t tame the heat here. It needs to get colder and more pleasant. Now that’s what I love and miss about Bangalore. The climate is heavenly compared to home. Yes, it’s cold and it takes incredible efforts to get out of bed every morning to get to college but sometimes that’s literally all you need and want.

 

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#Sundays- Terrorism, Feminism and Weddings.

Too many thoughts going around in my head, over the week. πŸ™‚

The last time I posted, I was talking about the Manchester Attack at Ariana’s concert. And over the week, there have been quite a few terrorist attacks in different parts of the world including Muslim countries like Afghanistan, killing innocent people. As it turns out, Muslims are quite a large population of victims of terrorism too, then why do we get the rights to blame it all on them? Yes a good majority of terrorists that are known or organizations that are known might be Muslim, but there’s also the same people and organizations formed from non-muslims too. Is it hard to establish that terrorism has no religion?
What a shame it is, to know that we are so obsessed with destroying each other. Killing each other, and then putting the label of a certain group or religion on it, because that makes it so much better doesn’t it? Instead of finding out the culprits, we can thus be suspicious of everyone’s motives with us.unnamed (3)

Moving on, I like to believe I’m a feminist. I believe that both genders are equal and should be given equal rights. And women right now, need to be empowered so that we can be as good as the men in our society. And empowered women empower women. #GirlLove is so important. But due to a turn of events that took place over the weekend, I’ve come to realize that women don’t think twice before pulling each other down just to make themselves feel good about their own existence. It’s pitiful for any human to be doing that, and being able to lead their normal life knowing they probably made someone feel really bad about themselves. And what is it with commenting on someone’s looks? Your facial features are supposed to be a bonus, not the whole package. So many people preaching feminism and women empowerment and then not even thinking once before spreading hate against another one from our community of women. What gives any woman the right to go ahead and insult another? Is it just to make herself feel better and different from others? Because that’s going to just help you as an individual feel better and do absolutely nothing about being better as a community.Β images (40)

The week for me, was an entirely hectic one. With a relative’s marriage, where I came to the realization that marriage is just not for me, I think that’s enough for me. Marriages are such extrovert meet-ups. And it’s not even like extroverts need to meet-up. They do it anyway. Now at this wedding, there were so many unknown relatives, one of them suggested my mother dearest, that she’ll soon have a son-in-law. Let’s talk about how this woman doesn’t even know me. But she’s already all prepped up for my marriage, which ain’t happening for a multitude of reasons. Lets begin with my inability to extrovert at someone else’s wedding, let alone my own. Then, I have way too many goals to accomplish, and being someone’s wife is very unfortunately, not one of them. Goals before assholes.Β images (42)

During this wedding period of 4-5 days, which were merrily spent with my relatives(please note the sarcasm), I happened to have heard some more comments which made absolutely no sense. A cousin was getting yelled at for back-answering someone older, and as much as I know he should be, because back-answering isn’t done, what he did was, in my opinion, not anything wrong. Maybe he should have had a lid on his temper, so yes, yell at him for that. But what kind of logic is,”He/She is right because he/she is older.” Well, relatives, you’re older too, but you’re ignorant too. Most people who are a few generations older, happen to not be open to a good majority of topics, and are really narrow-minded when it comes to accepting and coming to terms with a good amount of concepts and ideologies. So no, just because you’re older, you’re not necessarily wiser.Β 20170604_185325

Finally, I write this sitting in a nice cozy room in the cool hillstation of Panchgani, as a nice view of the valley is right outside the window to my left. It feels good, to finally relax and take a breath in relief, with no extroverts socializing around me. In the past few days, I had experienced severe annoyance with everyone, but I also did experience some nice occurences too. Like the car ride yesterday evening, I saw the colours of the sky change from blues to violets and reds as the lower curves of the clouds seemed to be highlighted by the oranges and reds, the sun setting soon. The beautiful valley of Panchgani, appeals a lot to me. The quiet here is something I’m enjoying right now, but I’m quite sure I’ll be finding it eerie soon enough. The cool breeze here and the quiet are taking me back to the tiny town in Bangalore where I stay most of the year, because education. The weather is something I’m indulging in, and I know in just another month, it’ll be a regularity for me.
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#Sundays – Manchester Attacks and Revisiting Bangalore.

Decided to start something like a weekly segment, so that I put things up here. πŸ™‚

I decided that I’ll write a post every Sunday, to make this a somewhat active blog. Sundays with Srushti. Gonna be one of those things I decide I’ll surely do and end up not accomplishing. But then I’ll also tell myself after successfully failing at this, that at least I had the guts to try and not everyone does, but I know that’s my own way of making myself feel good about my existence.

Let’s start with how shattering the Manchester terrorist attack has been. If you do not have an idea about this, here’s explaining it in short- A suicide bomber attended Ariana Grande’s concert last week and as the concert ended, the bomb blasted, killing around 20 fans and injuring about 50 others.
Concerts are places where people go to have a good time. I have only ever been to one concert, but I loved every second of it. And I have followed certain artists, including Ariana, enough to know that if I go to her concert, I’d be totally into it. Quite sure the same can be said about the fans who were attending the concert that day, and those who are now scarred for life because of the events that took place, the wounded ones and especially those who met their fate. What a sad thing it is, to kill people at a place where they only came to have a good time and take back beautiful memories. If this isn’t enough, people blamed Ariana for the attack and of being an attention-seeker, dragging the attention of the victims of the attack.

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Image Source: Herald Sun

There’s this thing called survivor’s guilt. The fact that this attack happened at her concert, and innocent people lost their lives due to the same, must have affected her too. Moreover, she offered to pay for their funerals, and is holding a charity concert, the funds from which shall go to the families of the victims’ of the Manchester attack. Concerts are supposed to be a safe haven for everyone to come and enjoy, not a gateway to death. What happened is truly saddening, and makes us question the safety and security of not just concert venues, but even a lot other crowded places we so regularly visit, like metro stations/travelling by metro trains, supermarkets, etc.

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Image Source: http://www.dailymail.co.uk

But it’s only during times of peril, that we see gems of humanity rise. During the days following Manchester attack, willing donors queued up outside hospitals to donate blood for the wounded and needy. Free taxi rides were being provided to anyone who might need to get back home safely. A few hotels were taking in children who were lost and needed shelter. When you notice acts like these taking place, that’s when you feel like there’s still hope in this world. Hope for a better future. Hope for humanity.

 

Moving on to other things, I’d like to talk about, I realize it’s been a month since I have been back home in Mumbai. And I love Mumbai. A friend asked me once to say the first word that comes to my mind when someone mentions Mumbai. And it was Dreams. Everytime I’m in Bangalore, there’s a slight longing for Mumbai. Something about it pulls me towards it always.

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Image Source: http://www.toursara.com

But lately, I’ve come to realize what a year in Bangalore has done to me. As I lead my carefree lifestyle under my parents’ roof in Mumbai, I casually keep mentioning something or the other about Bangalore every now and then. Like the other day, I went to McDonald’s with a friend, and we both got ourselves soft drinks. I noticed how they have the plastic cap over the glass. So I started telling my friend how we don’t get that in Bangalore, as Bangalore tries minimizing plastic as much as possible. And I took all the pride as I let her know that.
And oh, the talks and stories about PG are endless. About how I’m the father of the family, to late night conversations on the footpath, and the surprise birthday parties, and eating at tiny local shops, there’s so many memories I have. And even though I am not the most optimistic of people, I realize I have a lot to be thankful of. The second semester at college got me some amazing friends, fun, and a lot to look forward too. So, I guess I could say that I’m kinda looking forward to second year, even though I don’t really have much hope from Industrial at my college.

 

 

I think that’s a good amount of writing for the day, and it feels good to have written what I felt. Also, if you’d like to donate for the victims of the Manchester attack, here’s the link for the same-
https://www.justgiving.com/crowdfunding/westandtogethermanchester

πŸ™‚ Peace πŸ™‚

Dead Poets Society

one of the few movies that stay with you?

Might have spoilers, if you haven’t watched it..

Watched this classic very recently for the first time ever (yes, I’m really late on pretty much everything), and then I literally couldn’t hold it back and I had to pen it all down. This movie is such a beauty. It’s been like two days since I watched it for the first time, and I do not mind watching it again even now. We all have our ‘must watch’ movies and ‘all time favorites’. And this one happens to have made it’s way to both lists for me, on an individual level.

Watched this classic very recently for the first time ever (yes, I’m really late on pretty much everything), and then I literally couldn’t hold it back and I had to pen it all down. This movie is such a beauty. It’s been like two days since I watched it for the first time, and I do not mind watching it again even now. We all have our ‘must watch’ movies and ‘all time favorites’. And this one happens to have made it’s way to both lists for me, on an individual level.

Let’s talk John Keating. Robin Williams has done such a wonderful job at playing the character. And somewhere don’t we all need a John Keating in our lives? Maybe not a teacher in a literal way, but definitely a person who teaches us to sometimes just look at things from a different perspective. Someone who constantly tells us to go seize the day, and that we have the power to make our lives extraordinary. More importantly, let’s talk about how Keating was a teacher who believed in his students. How he had faith in all of them, even Todd who sat there timidly for most of the part. And yes, maybe he made things for Todd a little awkward by suddenly forcing him into a poetry exercise, but the way he came up with that poem, and the words from Keating, surely helped Todd break out of his shell at least a bit. dps2

What I love most about Keating is, he didn’t stick by the syllabus. The book wasn’t his bible, and he wasn’t just teaching these boys something straight out of a book that they’ll learn for an exam, and then forget. He was trying to teach them something that would stay with them forever. He was molding their personas, one step at a time. He was teaching them how to think and not what to think. He was letting these boys venture into their own mind and soul, letting them explore, if it can be put that way. And I think that this was very important. In a world, where we are all given the same education, and the only thing that makes us different compared to the other person is a few numbers on a sheet of paper, how important do you think you are as a person? How much do you matter to yourself? How well do you know yourself? When someone asks you a question, do you give a generic answer that probably a thousand more are going to give, or do you reply based off what you think and believe in? To not just educate someone to be a good adult, but to educate someone to think and believe, is something, that needs to be done more often.

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The idea of Dead Poets Society, sounded very intriguing. I loved how the boys were slowly opening up to Keating, and soon enough Dead Poets Society was on. It’s like they had warmed up to him, and his unconventional ways of doing things, his philosophies and ideologies, etc. Although I felt like Neil was the only one who was actually in the society for the poetry and his bond with the boys, and I didn’t really appreciate how the others in the group weren’t really much about poetry, I really liked how these boys had grown so close to each other. And somewhere, Keating and the society meetings were helping these boys to grow as individuals, and in Keating’s words,”Seize the day.”

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Neil’s death was horribly painful. To see him grow as a person throughout the movie and then ending up like that was devastating. Moreover, it seemed like things were falling in place when his father allowed him to play his part in the play, even though he ordered him to give it up just a day back. Knox and Chris seemed to be working out, and Charlie, or Nuwanda, wasn’t suspended. All seemed well, but then Neil’s father decided that Neil won’t make decisions for himself, and thus forces Neil to change schools and also declares that he will be a doctor. And very evidently it was too much for Neil to take. The sad part is, this still happens so many times, in today’s era too. Parents do not realize that their children can make their own decisions, and when it comes to a career choice, they should probably be allowed to. Children are not parents’ puppets, that they can just puppeteer all their lives.

Todd’s reaction to Neil’s death was heartbreaking. But what was worse, was Meeks ratting out the Dead Poets Society. But I did come to realize that he didn’t really have a choice per say. It was either them or Keating, and they didn’t get to choose. Their future mattered, and as much as they loved Keating, they had to sign the papers, even if unwillingly so.

And Keating did leave, but what stayed was Todd standing on his table and yelling “O Captain, my Captain!”, for him, followed by the rest of the boys. Todd, of all the people, did that, was what was impressive. It just showed how much he respected Keating and everything he had done for all of them. And I think that for me, seized the day.

To be in love with the idea of someone.

I wonder about the things I wonder, very randomly.

You know what is sad? To be in love with the idea of a person. It’s funny how we tend to make scenarios in our heads. Someone might just do an act of kindness towards us, and in our minds, we have already imagined this person to be some godly figure. What is sad, is to know that once upon a time, this person was particularly nice to you, which is why you have such a good image of them in your head. And sometimes, this image has stuck so deep, however horribly they act towards you, you cannot really accept it because a part of you still believes them to be a super nice person. And you let them trample over you, mistreat you, and also get away with it, simply because, at the end of the day, a part of your brain keeps on reminding you that this person is a nice person. But in reality, they aren’t.

And isn’t it awful when this person just walks out of your life, but in your head, they’re still there. You know that in reality, they aren’t. But there’s a universe in your head, where everything that you want has happened, and this person is the person you imagined they’d be.

But when this person returns/if they return, you realize how contrasting they are, compared to what you’d imagined them to be. You feel that last flicker of hope die inside of you, as you come to realize that all this while, the person you imagined, was only ever alive in your imagination and nothing beyond that. The realization that your imagination can never become reality starts to kill this world that you built for yourself, within you. And sometimes, it does you a lot of good, simply by bringing you back to reality, by shattering the walls you built..