Its been quite a strenuous process learning, unlearning and relearning myself. But I guess its something we all need to do every day. This post is entirely dedicated to me. I deserve to be the leading lady of my life, don’t I? That’s not an original line, but its something I keep telling myself, its like a soul rejuvenating mantra.
Some things I like about me:
1. I love conversation, as in am open to discussion about anything under the sun. I love to hear people talk and I love to talk. So that is a like a wonderful networking trait.
2. I don’t have inhibitions while conversing with strangers. I m very comfortable taking the first step to initiate a conversation. I have this motherly instinct which forces me to put people to ease.
3. I love to assimilate knowledge of all forms, good or bad. You need to have a thorough knowledge to be able to demarcate the good and bad. I don’t form opinions based on little knowledge, or others opinions. I form my own. I believe in constantly learning new things, crafts and skills, whatever there is.
4. I’m very approachable. I don’t give out bad or haughty vibes to people.
5. I’m impulsive, that’s not exactly a good thing but why it is good in my scenario is because, I don’t give a lot of thought to the consequences of an action so I do it, instead if I had reflected on them probably I wouldn’t have ended up doing a lot of things in my life.
6. I don’t live under false pretences. I don’t pretend to be innocent and naïve. You can read from my face when I like you and when I don’t. When I smile its genuine. When I cry it is too.
7. I would do anything for my friends and for people who are close to me. When I care it’s like the zenith and when I don’t, its plain I don’t.
8. I’m extremely adaptable. I somehow gel with most different kinds of human species.
Some things I don’t like much about me:
1. I hate it when people think they can talk anything to me. Every person should realize where his or her inquisitiveness can end.
2. I hate to be the first to initiate conversations. I can’t understand why people can’t talk when they want to. They don’t want to take the first step, it can involve a little effort , hence I have no choice but to do it myself, in most cases.
3. I hate C# , happens to be the stuff I have to constantly learn to complete my work satisfactorily. I also hate to learn cooking, every time the recipe seems to change and hence puts me in a confused state. I wish fairies and elves existed and they would agree to be my cook.
4. I don’t look around me, I don’t notice people. I forget names easily, dates even more so, especially birthdays.
5. I jump into everything happening around me, thus getting into a mess. Most of my college years have been spent in tangling and untangling myself from problems because of the same.
6. I hate most people around me. I like to pretend I like them.
7. I expect people to return my concerns, when it isn’t I don’t show it you, but it stays in my head, which is not a really good thing as I have realized from past experiences. It takes me years to forget when a friend hurts me.
8. I’ve been constantly put into environments where I had no choice but to be like the rest, and I did to be accepted, but that’s not me, it never was and never will be. But you won’t know.
Looking at both sides of the picture made me realize that I ‘m not so bad after all, I have some good traits which far outdo the rest, like I wouldn’t harm anyone…I don’t have claws and teeth to rip off people. :P
PJs aside, what I learnt from the above analysis is that it its most important to love yourself, collect your thoughts, analyze your actions, give yourself time. When you can’t do that every action you do in a day is nullified.
Whether someone likes you or not, if you do, you have won it all.
So love yourself like I do… And you’ll see how much fun life can be :P
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
Born wild
Some are born to be wild …
I’ m one of them
I climbed up the mountains, swam the rivers, walked through the plains
I trod in search of an end …
Always wanting to reach the next turn, curious what shall come
But I did things differently …
I succumbed to fears, ambitions and wants
However wild … however unaccepted
I wasn’t afraid ... I never cared...
I met people, learnt from them and moved on
I committed my own mistakes and matured
Not from those of those around me
I shall satisfy my cravings
I shall do the same everyday
And then I‘ll reach the end someday
I‘ll grow old
But I‘ll be happy with my journey
I’ll be happy with the wrinkles on my face worn with sun, rains and storms
I‘ll be happy that I danced, cried, smiled, gorged, fell and rose
All for myself
And that shall make my life worthwhile
I’ m one of them
I climbed up the mountains, swam the rivers, walked through the plains
I trod in search of an end …
Always wanting to reach the next turn, curious what shall come
But I did things differently …
I succumbed to fears, ambitions and wants
However wild … however unaccepted
I wasn’t afraid ... I never cared...
I met people, learnt from them and moved on
I committed my own mistakes and matured
Not from those of those around me
I shall satisfy my cravings
I shall do the same everyday
And then I‘ll reach the end someday
I‘ll grow old
But I‘ll be happy with my journey
I’ll be happy with the wrinkles on my face worn with sun, rains and storms
I‘ll be happy that I danced, cried, smiled, gorged, fell and rose
All for myself
And that shall make my life worthwhile
pain
I have a highly volatile memory. I hardly remember things I did the previous day. I remember very few people I meet and get acquainted with, like I register the face but I can’t seem to place the connection. But I remember places I’ve been to, not like the roadmaps and all, I ‘m really bad with that, I totally worship those who can find their way around without help. And I remember all my favorite clothes, even the frocks I wore when I was small , I guess that’s part of being a gal. Another thing I clearly remember is all my accidents. I have had quite a few, serious and otherwise, always with a touch of humor.
There was this time when I burnt myself on Diwali. This has quite an interesting story behind it. There was this kid, who used to stay above my apartment. The previous Holi, before this accident, while playing with the neighboring kids, I threw a balloon full of colored water on this kid’s head. It burst quite loudly and I panicked, but he was ok. And guess what, he decided to wait quite a long time to take the revenge. On Diwali, when I stepped out of my house, decked in a beautiful new lehenga, he threw a cracker on me. Luckily it burst before it touched my skin, falling on my shoulder just escaping my head, hence the injury was not all that bad, though it very well managed to put me out of my daily routine for almost two long weeks. I learnt that burns can be quite painful and kids can be quite smart and have a scar to prove it.
Another incident I remember quite well is the reason of another scar on my palm, my second identification mark in all legal documents. I had this habit of dancing around in the bathroom, when I was small. I would pour water on the walls, and after dancing for an hour, sometimes just wash my face and come out, claiming to have had a long bath with thorough scrubbing. My mother after being fooled many times finally saw through the trick and I had to drink milk with some sick tasting thing called ‘chyawanprash’ for almost a month as punishment. After this I decided to be a good girl and took proper bath, but my entertainment activities didn’t cease. And one fine day when I was busy singing some famous Bollywood song and putting steps to it, I slipped down and my hand pierced through the sticks of the broom which was kept at one corner. The broom, which was totally unexpected there, had been placed by the maid who just happened to clean the place before my entry. The pain was so fierce that my hand went totally numb for a few minutes. In panic, I broke away the sticks that I saw jutting out. Fearing the scolding, I bravely withstood the pain for an entire day. When in the night, the pain became totally unbearable, I ran to ma. She immediately took me to the doctor and two general operations later, and a few weeks of rest, I was finally fine but with a scar for a lifetime. Thus putting to rest my dancing spree in the bathroom.
It was teacher’s day. I was returning home from my teacher’s house. Me and my friends had gone to give cards and flowers to our math’s tuition teacher. She was my hero, the one who unwound the mystery of probability, sets, graphs and hundreds of other theories and axioms were made easy with the guidance of my favorite teacher. She was very happy to see us and gave us lots of sweets to eat. I was returning home, walking back alone after dropping my last friend home on the way. Suddenly I saw an insect flying near my face and I waved my hand to shoo it away. Just then, the insect came and sat on my lips. I brushed it away and felt sudden blinding pain. It was seriously shocking that there existed pain of that extent. I ran home, I was dizzy and somehow reached home. By the time, my lips had swollen to the size of a mango. And my mother got scared seeing me. She rushed me to the nearby clinic and the doctor said it was a wasp bite. Followed days of humiliation, with a swollen lip, I was looking like ‘hanuman ji ‘. I somehow convinced my mom, after lot of crying that I couldn’t go to school looking like that, but she forced me to attend my tuitions at least, to which I had to oblige. And so I attended tuition classes and thus became the laughing stock for a week. Thus ended my desire to be extra nice to teachers.
A more recent incident occurred quite by chance, I wasn’t being my usual wild self but extremely careless, another trait well known to all my dear friends. Ma was out shopping, and when I saw unclean dishes in the kitchen, remembering that the maid was on leave, I decided to help ma and surprise her. Sometimes these small helps can be accounted for later with forced treats. So off I set on work … and I was washing each dish with quite a bit of skill. There was this glass jar that I was washing and in an attempt to clean it thoroughly, I slipped my hand inside it, and however hard I tried, the hand didn’t budge. Finally in a moment of desperation, I hit the floor with my hand still inside the bottle. The bottle broke, piercing my wrist and cutting my vein, the floor was filled with blood and then I fainted. When my unsuspecting mother returned home, luckily she reached within five minutes of the accident, she was shocked to see me lying on the floor in a pool of blood. She immediately took me to the hospital. The doctors and everyone else including my parents thought that I attempted suicide. I was in bed for almost a week. The incident became quite a joke later in the family.
I have had it all .. fire, glass, slipping, falling down staircases, trees , fractures, being run over on the road, insect bites… almost everything. If there is a form of physical pain, I have experienced it. Although the pain is not fun, but the holiday guaranteed definitely is and all the pampering too.
There was this time when I burnt myself on Diwali. This has quite an interesting story behind it. There was this kid, who used to stay above my apartment. The previous Holi, before this accident, while playing with the neighboring kids, I threw a balloon full of colored water on this kid’s head. It burst quite loudly and I panicked, but he was ok. And guess what, he decided to wait quite a long time to take the revenge. On Diwali, when I stepped out of my house, decked in a beautiful new lehenga, he threw a cracker on me. Luckily it burst before it touched my skin, falling on my shoulder just escaping my head, hence the injury was not all that bad, though it very well managed to put me out of my daily routine for almost two long weeks. I learnt that burns can be quite painful and kids can be quite smart and have a scar to prove it.
Another incident I remember quite well is the reason of another scar on my palm, my second identification mark in all legal documents. I had this habit of dancing around in the bathroom, when I was small. I would pour water on the walls, and after dancing for an hour, sometimes just wash my face and come out, claiming to have had a long bath with thorough scrubbing. My mother after being fooled many times finally saw through the trick and I had to drink milk with some sick tasting thing called ‘chyawanprash’ for almost a month as punishment. After this I decided to be a good girl and took proper bath, but my entertainment activities didn’t cease. And one fine day when I was busy singing some famous Bollywood song and putting steps to it, I slipped down and my hand pierced through the sticks of the broom which was kept at one corner. The broom, which was totally unexpected there, had been placed by the maid who just happened to clean the place before my entry. The pain was so fierce that my hand went totally numb for a few minutes. In panic, I broke away the sticks that I saw jutting out. Fearing the scolding, I bravely withstood the pain for an entire day. When in the night, the pain became totally unbearable, I ran to ma. She immediately took me to the doctor and two general operations later, and a few weeks of rest, I was finally fine but with a scar for a lifetime. Thus putting to rest my dancing spree in the bathroom.
It was teacher’s day. I was returning home from my teacher’s house. Me and my friends had gone to give cards and flowers to our math’s tuition teacher. She was my hero, the one who unwound the mystery of probability, sets, graphs and hundreds of other theories and axioms were made easy with the guidance of my favorite teacher. She was very happy to see us and gave us lots of sweets to eat. I was returning home, walking back alone after dropping my last friend home on the way. Suddenly I saw an insect flying near my face and I waved my hand to shoo it away. Just then, the insect came and sat on my lips. I brushed it away and felt sudden blinding pain. It was seriously shocking that there existed pain of that extent. I ran home, I was dizzy and somehow reached home. By the time, my lips had swollen to the size of a mango. And my mother got scared seeing me. She rushed me to the nearby clinic and the doctor said it was a wasp bite. Followed days of humiliation, with a swollen lip, I was looking like ‘hanuman ji ‘. I somehow convinced my mom, after lot of crying that I couldn’t go to school looking like that, but she forced me to attend my tuitions at least, to which I had to oblige. And so I attended tuition classes and thus became the laughing stock for a week. Thus ended my desire to be extra nice to teachers.
A more recent incident occurred quite by chance, I wasn’t being my usual wild self but extremely careless, another trait well known to all my dear friends. Ma was out shopping, and when I saw unclean dishes in the kitchen, remembering that the maid was on leave, I decided to help ma and surprise her. Sometimes these small helps can be accounted for later with forced treats. So off I set on work … and I was washing each dish with quite a bit of skill. There was this glass jar that I was washing and in an attempt to clean it thoroughly, I slipped my hand inside it, and however hard I tried, the hand didn’t budge. Finally in a moment of desperation, I hit the floor with my hand still inside the bottle. The bottle broke, piercing my wrist and cutting my vein, the floor was filled with blood and then I fainted. When my unsuspecting mother returned home, luckily she reached within five minutes of the accident, she was shocked to see me lying on the floor in a pool of blood. She immediately took me to the hospital. The doctors and everyone else including my parents thought that I attempted suicide. I was in bed for almost a week. The incident became quite a joke later in the family.
I have had it all .. fire, glass, slipping, falling down staircases, trees , fractures, being run over on the road, insect bites… almost everything. If there is a form of physical pain, I have experienced it. Although the pain is not fun, but the holiday guaranteed definitely is and all the pampering too.
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