Thursday, December 27, 2012

My week in quotes

From the movie Beasts of the Southern Wild :
(I'm sure no one who reads this blog is going to like the movie)

1. Miss Bathsheba: "The most important thing I can teach you? You gotta learn to take care of people smaller and sweeter than you are."
2. Hushpuppy: "When I die, the scientists of the future, they're gonna find it all. They're gonna know, once there was a Hushpuppy and she lived with her daddy in the bathtub." 

From the book Beatrice and Virgil by Yann Martel: 
(The book was a wonderful combination of weird and lovely)

1. "In addition to the knowledge of history, we need the understanding of art. Stories identify, unify, give meaning to. Just as music is noise that makes sense, a painting is colour that makes sense, so a story is life that makes sense."
2. “Fiction and nonfiction are not so easily divided. Fiction may not be real, but it's true; it goes beyond the garland of facts to get to emotional and psychological truths. As for nonfiction, for history, it may be real, but its truth is slippery, hard to access, with no fixed meaning bolted to it. If history doesn't become story, it dies to everyone except the historian.”
3. "They settled in one of those great cities of the world that is a world unto itself, a storeyed metropolis where all kinds of people find themselves and lose themselves. Perhaps it was New York. Perhaps it was Paris. Perhaps it was Berlin."
4. "English's drive to exploit the new and the alien, its zeal in robbing words from other languages, its incapacity to feel qualms over the matter, its museum size over-abundance of vocabulary, its shoulder-shrug approach to spelling, its don't-worry-be-happy concern for grammar-the result was a language whose colour and wealth Henry loved."

From the movie The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey:

1. Gandalf: "I am looking for someone to share in an adventure"
2. Gandalg: "The world is not in your maps and books. It is out there"
3. Gollum: "If Baggins loses, we eats it whole"

From the book Memoirs of a Geisha:
(Turned out to be a touching love story rather than the, well, memoirs of a Geisha.Quite enjoyable reading)

1. “He was like a song I'd heard once in fragments but had been singing in my mind ever since.”

2. "I could no more have stopped myself from feeling that sadness than you could stop yourself from smelling an apple that has been cut open on the table before you.”

 From the movie Coraline:
(The animation makes you all wide-eyed, the characters tug at your heart strings, the elements of horror fill you with trepidation but not terror)

This movie doesn't really have any quotable quotes, but here's one:

"It's not real scientific, but I heard an ordinary name like Caroline can lead people to have ordinary expectations about a person."

If anyone actually read all of the above and reached this part, hello to you! And yes, if you're wondering, this probably was the best week of my life! ")

P.S. Thank you for everyone who took the time to reply to the last post. It was good to know something about each of you that, well, wouldn't be so obvious otherwise; when using conventional modes of getting to know each other. 

Sunday, December 23, 2012

Back with a lot of nonsense ")

I never thought I would ever let silly things such as life interfere with my writing. Life is supposed to just inspire the writing, hai na? But it did happen. Life did come and interfere. And then the fatigue just caught on. Which then progressed into sheer laziness. Which may have metamorphosed into a writer's block, you know, except that I'm pretty sure those things are entirely fictitious. Because if you are a writer, then you're a writer, no blocks whatsoever. But that's just my opinion.

So what transpired in the interim?
Exams, and studies, and studies, and studies, and books, and deadlines, and exams, and studies, and...

Oh well, after exams there were other things as well: Books, and bad movies, and weddings, and family trips, and babies, and weddings, and social engagements, and music, and doctors, and fake smiles, and weddings, and cakes, and ....

You get the drift?

I should really have some set agendas in mind before I start writing a post, but I never do. So then I get to the middle of the post and insert a totally useless stanza like this one.

But what I'm basically saying is that I'm here and I'm alive, but I just don't feel too talkative. My brain is snoozing, this month. Yeah, it does let out a contented buzzing sound. Only no one except me has heard the sound, as yet.

Aha, and my new favorite pastime during exams was stalking celebs on twitter. Instead of studying. But the moment I actually made a twitter account, all of them just became boring. I swear, at that exact moment. So now my account is dying a slow and lonely death. So please don't follow me on twitter or anything.

And you know how every every single thing becomes extremely tempting during exams, and the moment the exams get over, all you ever do is laze around on your sofa? Does that happen to everyone or is it just me?

Also does anyone else's CPU give them electric shocks? Mine does, currently. No pun intended.

And has anyone ever sprained (strained?) their neck due to over-studying? I HAVE! And it is such a pain in the neck!

...aaaand that completes the list of five random things you didn't know about me. Yes, I was counting. And yes, I cheated in the counting. You're just gonna have to live with that.

Okay, let me make this random thing no. 5: I never cheat. Ever. This was the only exception. I promise!

Now, your turn. In the comments, people. Give me five things I don't know about you. Go anonymous, use pseudonyms. Or well, your own name. Truth, fiction, fantasy, anything. Just make them good. And maybe we will have a fun post out of it next time.

Till then, bye bye. ")

Edit: Forgot my comic.


Monday, July 23, 2012

What is it about the rains?

(Note: This post is basically a really long conversation I had with myself. However, if you ARE reading it, and it isn't raining outside where you are, do not forget to click here, turn up your volume, and let it play in the background while you read)

Rain at the Window by ~magoscuro

What is it about the rain that makes one so happy and lonely and eloquent, all at the same time?

Rainy mornings send sparks of anticipation down your spine, with a tiny secret smile and a light restlessness surging through the body. You cannot deny the feeling that something wonderful is about to happen to you, soon.

There is just something about the cool humid air lightly touching your face, carrying with it those drops of rainwater, and the smell of wet earth thick in your nose, that slows down your heart, exuding an air of calm, and simultaneously takes your mind into an overdrive of sensations. You're thinking all these millions of tiny little thoughts, all so separate and unrelated and yet all intertwined and tangled up; a mess, which you would love to roll about in forever.

There's something that pulls you to the window to look at the world in shades of gray and green, with deep, pensive eyes. Something that makes you want to be so in love and also entirely alone, and just stand still, in time, at that window. No life, no chaos, no deadlines, no rules; no big dreams, no promises, no broken hearts. Just you, your heart, and the rain. And stillness.

The stillness, it lets you concentrate on the pitter-patter of falling drops on the tin roof outside; on the water droplets sticking to the glass panes and then dripping down, slowly, and falling off; on the green leaves on the tree outside, shivering under the barrage of water; and on the lone man walking down the street hugging a parcel to his chest and slouching under a broken black umbrella. All these details, which you would otherwise be blind to, suddenly just seem to draw you in, while the sound of the rain lightly haunts your conscience.

Just what is it about the rain, that makes all your life disappear while it falls, and makes a whole new universe unfold around you, while you look on with the over-awed, uninitiated, eyes of a newborn? What is it that makes all those details in the rain so much more important than your life goals and pressing chores and the next deadline waiting to be met?

And then as soon as the rain stops and the sunshine starts streaming in, it's like you wake up from your dream, and lose all memory of what happened, and go back to the mundane robotics of everyday! It's like some dark magic! Witchcraft! Sorcery! It's like a dream that was given to you only to be woken up from, or a blessing that was given to you along with a fixed, cursed ending.

I can never win, with the rains, try as I may. I can never make them stay. I can never make myself remember and retain how they made me feel. And believe me, I try. I try with all my might, little as that may be. But life always takes precedence in the end, and, sooner or later, the sun always comes up.  


I guess I never will know what is it about those danged rains... till the next time they come around to my window. Then, once again, I will attempt to solve their mysteries.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Jane Eyre: Book Review and Quotes

Now see, all my friends probably think I am in hibernation, studying with a crazed obsession or something. But what I HAVE been doing, while cozily cut-off from the word, is reading Charlotte Bronte's classic, Jane Eyre. It's been like a secret sin which I am now owning up to. Also, that is one book ticked off my list.

 Talking about the book - it was long, and winding, like most classics are. It was also thoroughly enjoyable, a very much heartening romance, which had much more depth and emotion as compared to Jane Austen's light-hearted and simple tales. The first half of the novel is more of drama, with social commentary and even some elements of a horror story, but as the story advances, it becomes a story of human nature and perseverance, and religion and societal values. But, at the end, more than anything, what you are left with, is a wonderful love story. And a truly filmy one as any good novel would demand, of course.

I felt some minor uneasiness at how religion seemed to rule the lead's, and in fact, all the character's lives, but then, again, that is a reflection of England in those times when this book was written, and the Author's personal beliefs.

Anyone who likes reading, and has a taste for Classics, this book is highly recommended. I am now gleefully looking forward to watching both the TV mini series, and the movie.

Now on to the most important part, some of my favourite quotes from the book:

1. "When we are struck at without a reason, we should strike back again very hard; I am sure we should – so hard as to teach the person who struck us never to do it again." - A very young, and truly amazing Jane Eyre, early on in the book.

2. “I care for myself. The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself.”- Jane.

3. Rochester: "Jane, be still; don't struggle so like a wild, frantic bird, that is rending its own plumage in its desperation."

Jane: "I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being, with an independent will; which I now exert to leave you.”

4. "I must, then, repeat continually that we are forever sundered: - and yet, while I breathe and think, I must love him.” - Jane

5. “Laws and principles are not for the times when there is no temptation: they are for such moments as this, when body and soul rise in mutiny against their rigour ... If at my convenience I might break them, what would be their worth?” - Jane.

6. “Conventionality is not morality. Self-righteousness is not religion. To attack the first is not to assail the last. To pluck the mask from the face of the Pharisee, is not to lift an impious hand to the Crown of Thorns."

7. “They spoke almost as loud as Feeling: and that clamoured wildly. "Oh, comply!" it said. "Think of his misery; think of his danger — look at his state when left alone; remember his headlong nature; consider the recklessness following on despair — soothe him; save him; love him; tell him you love him and will be his. Who in the world cares for you? or who will be injured by what you do?" - Jane.

8. “Am I hideous, Jane?
Very, sir: you always were, you know.”

9.  “Mademoiselle is a fairy," he said, whispering mysteriously.”

10.  “I loved him very much - more than I could trust myself to say - more than words had power to express." - Jane.

11. “You, Jane, I must have you for my own--entirely my own.”- Mr. Rochester

 12.  “When you are inquisitive, Jane, you always make me smile. You open your eyes like an eager bird, and make every now and then a restless movement, as if answers in speech did not flow fast enough for you, and you wanted to read the tablet of one's heart.”- Mr. Rochester.

13. “You are my sympathy - my better self - my good angel; I am bound to you by a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely; a fervant, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my center and spring of life, wraps my existence about you - and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one.”

14. “You are going, Jane?"

"I am going, sir."

"You are leaving me?"


"You will not come? You will not be my comforter, my rescuer? My deep love, my wild woe, my frantic prayer, are all nothing to you?"

What unutterable pathos was in his voice! How hard was it to reiterate firmly, "I am going!"


"Mr. Rochester."

17. “Reader, I married him.”- Jane.


Wednesday, July 4, 2012


Growing up, home was a crowded place. So many people; so many adults, so many children. So many girls.

We children lived in an alternate universe. The adults did all their adult things, while we played, and laughed, and cried, and ate and slept, and told stories, and heard stories, and played "ghar-ghar" endlessly. We went to the library in droves, and lived for the Sunday Morning cartoons on Doordarshan. Home was all we knew.

Home was where you always had your parents. They were often busy, but they were also always there, somewhere, around, and nearby. And that was all we needed to know.

Home was where Mom told us bedtime stories. Highly anticipated and eagerly awaited, those stories were what shaped us and molded us, I think, in retrospect.

Home was a lot of schoolbags, and lunch boxes, and water bottles, and brown paper covered books.  Home was also where we lined up to get our hair braided in two braids with ugly green ribbons wound into them every morning.

Home was long waist length hair, well oiled through the week, and washed on Sunday Mornings.

Home was our favorite Sunday Mornings, with TV, and no school.

Home was reading every story in the English textbook in the summer vacations itself, before school reopened, and skipping all the poems. 

Home was the shoe flower tree in the backyard, and the jamun tree in the garden beyond.  Also, the squirrels, birds, flowers, fruits, chameleons, insects, fruit-stealing-men, jamun-collecting-escapades, and everything else that came along.
Home was space, and sunshine. Large, large windows, with the sun always streaming in. Wintry morning chills, and the perfect view outside the windows. Sitting over the window sill, your feet hanging down the grill, in the pouring rain. Home, was gorgeous.

Home was love, and family. Sunday lunch on the floor, and then dinner, and stories, and joy. Home was pressure-cooker cakes and spaghetti meals and steaming pav bhaji. Hot food, matke ka paani, that was always home.

Home was pouring milk into the kitchen sink and hiding rotis behind the dustbin.

Home was adopting stray kittens and puppies and making them sick with unhealthy food.

Home was where butterflies frequently flew in and honeybees sometimes tried to build hives.

Home was also awkward birthday wishes, and squabbles, and tears. Home was cat fights and shouting matches and temper tantrums.

Home was fighting against destiny and then accepting it.

Home was where first pets were brought and loved and lost. Home was where Barbies and Amar Chitra Kathas were collected and treasured and eventually given away.

Home was sisters' tête-à-têtes, late into the quiet of the night. Whispered conversations, shared philosophy, and muffled giggles.

Home was the chaos of the evening when Daddy came home, the quiet of the morning when Mom bustled in the kitchen. The shouts in our ears when we slept away the summer holidays, and the light poking our eyes when our blankets were pulled away.

Home was snuggling under blankets in the AC on summer nights. Home was rented VCRs and very fairly divided "foreign" chocolates.

Home was being afraid of the dark, forever and ever, and then one fine day, just becoming unafraid.

Home was solace, and solitude, and peace, and comfort.

Home was also the groaning swing, and crumbling ceilings, the peeling paint, the leaking taps, and the squeaking doors.

Home was religion, and home was principles. Home was knowledge, and education.

Home was where we left our nests, and flew away, as our parents watched proudly.

And home is where we assemble, ever so often, and then everything is just the same.

Home is home, and there's only one of it's kind, the only place we will ever call home.

Monday, June 11, 2012

Why do we fight?

For the first time ever, this blog is going to see a post written for solely one purpose.


Be warned, and stay away. 

Growing up, I was always someone who prided herself over not fighting with anyone, not indulging in cat fights. I always wondered why girls around me fought so much. But then, things were simple back then. I never cared about anyone or anything so much, as to fight, I suppose.

(Though there was that one incident in primary school, a fountain pen war. Don't know what that is? Let me explain. It involves blotting ink over each other's faces (you and your enemy) and white school uniforms, then bursting into loud tears in a classroom full of 100 students, then being reprimanded and sent to the washroom to clean up. And the most embarrassing part? Having to go to the wash room with your then arch enemy! And being the only one in floods of tears! Oh well. I think it's time to stop talking about repressed childhood memories)

Moving on to adulthood, how is it that we always find ourselves in a constant struggle for one-upmanship? We're always gossiping, backbiting, taking advantage, backstabbing, fake smiling, putting on shows of friendship, competing, killing, climbing the ladder, and trampling over people. We're cursing and howling and abusing and slapping and disowning best friends and swearing lifetime oaths of enmity. Think, look around, we are, most of us. We always are. In some way or another. And most of us enjoy it. We call it being 'street-smart'. The poor few who don't, are just thrown to one side and left in that corner. With a lot of fake smiles coming their way. And a couple of pitiful "Oh, she's so sweet!"s to boot.

 What I fail to understand, is that how does the person you once thought would be your BFF, turn into a person you can't see eye-to-eye with about even one single thing? I mean, HOW does that happen? What happened to the person who was there in their place before? What happened to the person I was five years back? What happened to that long phone call years ago when we both cried into the handsets and helped each other deal with life's troubles? What happened to the pinky swears? What happened to fighting with the world, for each other? What happened to always having a friend you can count on? Sigh.

I've recently gained a highly cynical world view, and am starting to doubt whether real, uncluttered, friendship without agendas even exists anymore. There's nothing much going on to renew my faith, right now.

I think in the end, we all fight because of one root cause. We all want to be loved, and appreciated. (It's either that, or money. Let's work with the former, for now). And we're ready to do anything for that little bit of love. In the process, we forget that we are cancelling out our original cause, by fighting and doing all that we do. We become unworthy of that same love.

John Mayer once sang: "If you want more love, why don't you say so?".

We should all just say so.  

On another note, more unwanted gyaan for you: The best way to judge a person, if at all you want to, is to see how they fight. (Of course, there's also that ancient piece of wisdom, "Judge a man by how he treats his inferiors". But I think the piece of gyaan I just discovered is much better).

Judge someone when they are fighting. You're angry, ready to fight, guns ablazing,  you want to prove your point, and insult the opposite person, at all costs. That is the best time to forget all your etiquette, dignity, and basic self-respect, and start hurling every swear word you know at whatever person/thing you choose to bestow them upon. People lose all sense of what's happening, and what's being said, what's being done, they lose perspective. What no one realises in the heat of the moment, is what they are doing to themselves and the opposite person, by fighting. The slightly sensible ones, tend to regret everything that happens during a fight, later. But by then it's done, and irreversible.

Losing yourself to anger is by far, the ugliest thing a person can do. Never fails to show the very, very worst in that person. There are few who can keep a sensible head in place, and fight/argue with some rational logic and without letting their anger get a hold on them. And even fewer are those who choose to walk away from a fight.

I have profound respect for all such people. Sadly, they are a very, very rare species.

And what about me, in all this, you ask? Well, I have my highs and lows. Best moments and worst. Sometimes more of the worst. I am never afraid to apologize, though. That's what keeps me sane, and going.

Also, sometimes it turns out all you need is a blog, to keep you sane and going. Spout things out on poor unsuspecting readers. In-house therapy. Always works wonders.I am now finally smiling after a long, draining day.

For you (loyal readers, who never fail to lift up my spirits), I quote, once again, Taylor Swift:

"I love you like I love sparkles and having the last word. And that's real love."

On that blog-happy note, this is goodbye.


Tuesday, June 5, 2012

My list of books to read before I die

Compiled from various internet articles, bestseller lists, and your recommendations. This list is a work in progress. I am publishing it here for those of you who may be interested. Of course, it only consists of books which I have not yet read.

Entering medicine has dampened my once voracious appetite for fiction, and this list will push me to keep reading good literature, in the little time I can afford, which is all otherwise spent trolling the internet and watching rom-coms. 

In no particular order:

1. A Room With A View, E.M.Forster
2. If Nobody Speaks Of Remarkable Things, Jon McGregor
3. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams
4. Of Human Bondage, W. Somerset Maugham
5. 1984, George Orwell
6. The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde
7. A House For Mr. Biswas, V.S.Naipul
8. Letters to a Young Poet, Rainer Rilke
9. Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand
10. The History of Love, Nicole Krauss
11.  The Remains of the Day, Kazuo Ishiguro.
12. Mein Kampf
13. The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath
14. To Kill A Mockingbird, Harper Lee
15. Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte
16. Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy
17. Midnight's Children, Salman Rushdie
18. A Suitable Boy, Vikram Seth
19. A Song Of Ice and Fire (series), George R. Martin
20. The Longest Trip Home: A Memoir, John Grogan
21. The Complete Calvin and Hobbes, Bill Waterson
22. A Short History of Nearly Everything
23. Brief History of Time, Stephen Hawking
24.  At Swim-Two-Birds, Flann O'Brien
25. Atonement, Ian McEwan
26. The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, Carson McCullers
27. Kafka On The Shore, Haruki Murakami
28. Fifty Shades Trilogy, E L James
29. On The Island
30. Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov
31. Water For Elephants, Sara Gruen
32. The Hunger Games, Susan Collins
33. The Scent Of Rain And Lightning, Nancy Pickard
34. Infinite Jest, David Foster Wallace
35. A Moveable Feast, Ernest Hemingway

36. And Our Faces, My Heart, Brief As Photos- John Berger
37. Unbearable Lightness Of Being, Milan Kundera
38. The Night In Lisbon, Erich Maria Remarque
39. The Shadow Lines, Amitav Ghosh

40. The Sea, John Banville

Wednesday, May 2, 2012


Statutory Warning: I want to write today, but I don't have any clear topic in mind, so I'm just going to run with it. Expect a lot of nonsense and many pointless sentences.

Trying to strike a balance between everything you want to do, and everything you're supposed to do, is so difficult. And I seem to spend almost all my life caught up in this struggle.

New word I just read:
'schmaltzy': Excessively sentimental.
(No, that cannot be used to describe my writing style. No! Why would you suggest that?)

I'm finding I don't really miss my college or internship too much. And I'm finding that sometimes, I actually enjoy studying. That occurs more often than not when the studying is to be done without deadlines, but sometimes it's the killer deadlines that make all that studying fun. Both have their own charm, so to say. (Yes, here I am, waxing eloquent about mundane things such as studies).

Having watched Avengers, I have two things to say: 1) Mark Ruffalo, you have a brand new fan, and,  2) I am thoroughly bored of the let's-destroy-this-great-big-city-and-all-those-tall-towers-with-these-huge-ugly-monsters routine that Hollywood keeps repeating in every movie climax (D-wars, Transformers, etc.) (Yeah well, D-wars was a Korean movie or something, not Hollywood. I know!) (Yes! I saw it! Stop staring!).

Funny pointless drawing from here for your entertainment. I placed it in the middle of the post for no reason.

Then I went and saw Vicky Donor. Let me tell you all about that.

It was better than quite a few Hindi movies, that much I can say. The lead, Vicky Donor, has a sperm count of '110 million' or so I caught in the movie, while the normal sperm count is 20 million. So he is an Aryan male, the man of mans, etc. So far, so good. My favorite character is Vicky's Punjabi mom. As the movie progresses, and as Vicky keeps on donating his sperm and blessing more and more infertile couples with babies, however,  I grow more and more restless.

I start thinking about how the babies will all have his genes and then about how this is such fertile ground that can lead to consanguinity and inbreeding and mess up the genetics of the entire human race and so on. Yes, I tend to dramatize things a lot. Basically, my mind takes a wild scary ride. And at the end of the movie, we are shown that there are a total of 53 babies, born with Vicky Donor's sperm, who come together to celebrate the infertility clinic's 25th anniversary. And all, all I can think of, all that is running through my mind constantly, is this: "What if the kids' families became friends at this stupid party, and then they grew up, and what if some of them wanted to marry each other? How is this sperm donation thing even legit? Oh God. Why did I study medicine? Now I can't even watch a movie in peace..."

Then I reach home, it's almost midnight, and yet I HAVE to sit up and start researching sperm donation rules and regulations, just to reassure myself that such things aren't happening in the real world out there. It seems every country has different sets of regulations and sperm donation banks and agencies also follow their own rules. Also there's no mention of any such rules and regulations in India. So then I just go to sleep.

In other updates, I've been spending my days listening to the Bee Gees song Stayin' Alive. I may be a bit late in discovering this song, I know. It's just one of those songs that's been made solely to get stuck in your head and then stay there forever.

Here's some gyaan you didn't ask for: 
It's funny how man is so proud of even his smallest achievements, and seems to forget about how much more there always is, to be done, and to be achieved.

And then some observations about myself: 
I love spending days all by myself, switching off my phone, talking to no one, cutting off from the world, studying at my own pace, or not even studying, cooking, reading, watching bad movies. That's the good life. Also, I am lazy. Even while playing games on my phone, I am lazy. The games I like to play don't require me to do much work. Anything which requires even a wee bit too much of brain usage, I just get rid of it or ignore it. For example, people's birthdays. I never try to remember them. And sometimes, I even see their birthdays on Facebook and don't wish them. I mean, what's the point, right? I hope you get me. So now you know from whom not to expect birthday wishes on your birthday. That's done then.

I can't remember anything else I want to write about.

I do remember a question I want to ask. This is for all of you who like reading. If you had to recommend one (or three) books I should read before I die, which would they be?  You have to let me know. I could be dying tomorrow! LEAVE A COMMENT!

Bye bye.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

New perspective

This has been mainly an internship chronicles blog this past year, and yesterday I completed the last day of my medical internship. (At this point, we all shall stop whatever we are doing and get up from our chairs and do a mini-jiggly-crazy dance. 20 secs. Yes! Good. Everyone should dance in honor of me completing my internship!)

It's been a memorable year, in more ways than one, that much I can say. And no, I am not shutting down this blog, this isn't a farewell post, so stop worrying about that.

This is just a post which has no direction, as of now.

But a few things I have realized this last year. Kind of like acquiring some new gyaan, and looking at the world with a new perspective.

Glasses by ~Bardouv

For example, I learnt that nothing quite matches the feeling of simple satisfaction you get after a long day at work. But also that not all people get that feeling.

That one should always turn to chocolate in times of need; on bad-hair days, and otherwise.

That friends are often overrated. People grow up and change and drift apart. They fight and they hold grudges and they bite. However, at times, you do make that genuine, unconditional, plain and simple friend, who is your friend for absolutely no reason or purpose, other than being a friend. Don't forget to hold on to that person.

That sometimes, not pushing yourself to your limits, and just doing what pleases you, also works wonders. That it's too much effort to spend every waking minute being hard upon yourself.

That talking, in general, to anyone, about anything, is not really my thing.

That being taught well is a privilege you don't often get, even after five and a half years in medical "school". So those rare teachers that you come across, one should remember to respect them and to thank them. 

That there are two ways you can command respect from the people around you. Either you force them to give it to you, by virtue of your seniority, or you earn it, by virtue of your knowledge and conduct.

That even after all my pessimism, at the end of the day, I love my profession.

That writing, is my thing. My person. My backup. My hiding place. My safe place.

The best part about last year about last year has been this blog. .

That reading good poetry is one of the greatest joys in my life. It's almost miraculous how some arrangements of words can be so beautiful.

That in the end, very few things matter. But knowing what does and what doesn't, that's the clincher.

That time wasted, doing what you love, is never time wasted. Yes, that thing people always said, it was true.

That sometimes in life, we discover too late the things we truly love and the things that truly matter. And yet, there's enough joy in just the discovery itself, to make everything okay.

That, when things get bad, it's best to just turn off the lights, curl up under a cozy quilt and sleep everything off.

That, you never know when, and where, and how, you may bump into people who will change the entire course of your life, in a matter of time. And that you can never be prepared for them.

That there aren't really many pre-emptive measures in life, they're there only in medicine.

That anonymity and fame, can never both be acquired together. Sooner or later, you have to choose one.

That everyday is a new opportunity to be better.

That nothing in the world is quite like a good love story.

That being able to ignore people is a superpower like no other.

That it takes bravery to be able to sing like no one is hearing, and dance like no one is watching.

That I am not very brave, except with words.

That I can turn any post into a long philosophical ramble, with no head or tail, and publish it here.

That people will still be around to read this kind of stuff.

That I am bad at closing lines.

That....well...that's that.