Soul Search

Amidst a busy schedule I find myself free for a day. Suddenly a new role, a higher post and most of my time is spent on delegating work and not really doing. First I enjoyed, then tried to get organized and now in search of what next…

Free internet and free time is an amazing combination you know! Reading multiple articles, letters, books and blogs, I am here to wake the writer in me. Yes, that’s write I mean that’s right I am a writer too. I accidentally started off as a writer and once I published few of my pieces (I am not counting my journalistic stories here) and heard some wonderful words from the close ones, I am thinking of becoming a full-fledged writer. Write a book of one story or a compilation of short stories. So here I am again, trying to kindle the story teller in me.

I know I have had a few milestones in my life like winning an individual championship when in high school, winning accolades in debate competitions, flunking in my undergraduate for the first time and topping my college in Post-graduation. The last one was certainly a topping… like the cherry on top. As once you reach the top, you get a better view of life. Looking back and looking down, you look at a different world altogether. It’s something like getting addicted to a drug. You stop imagining your life without it. And success is addictive I say.  

So… after my studies I faced the real world and my next set of milestones started. First job and then the job hopping. First resignation and multiple to follow. Until I landed in my dream job as a crime reporter. After I quit my dream job (because it couldn’t pay me well), my life has hit a stagnated period. Four years and more, I never realized when the cherry toppled down and dwindled all the way down. I got a car, a husband and a mother-in-law too, a new life but the goal remains lost.

Working for just another IT company today doing a routine job and comfortable in life. But the thrill of life is missing. It’s like running in a race and not sure if it’s a 100 meters run or a marathon. On a retrospection I see I have a calling and my calling is writing. I wouldn’t say I am a great writer but I know I am a wonderful storyteller. You should see the crowd when I recite the same old saans bahu stories or when the crime reporter in me wakes up. People crowd up and remember my stories even better than I do.

Here I lay my next milestone to be a writer. Those who have taken the time to read this I seek few more minutes of yours. Please drop in a comment or inbox me what do you think I should be writing about. You know me, you know my story. All that I seek is hold a mirror to me.

When I dream

When I first dreamed big,
I dreamed of a job,
A job so challenging,
Challenging my limits,
Limits with no boundaries,
And boundaries which do not shape me!

The day I realized what is journalism,
Journalism caught on to me like a child.
A child who has just started to recognize faces,
Faces that are new and unknown.
Little known that unknown are much closer than the known.
Known are the ones who mould you.

Times changed but not my dream.
Dream for a change became a reality,
A reality I waited to live
Live a life of Challenges, competition and fear
Fear of loss, fear of failure.
Failure overpowered the fear of death
Death became a routine
Routine of rape, murder, betrayel and theft
A silent theft of a life
A life of respect and values
Values made way for a life never dreamed of.

Every dream has an end
An end with nothing to look ahead
Ahead is  just a route
A route of deviation
Deviations left you with a hope
A hope of living your dream
A dream yet again
Again at the same place where you started the story
A story which always has something from the past
A past with lot of memories and lessons
Lessons learnt to be yourself

Today I want to be a free spirit
Spirit which has no form but just life
Life that has no rules no promises
Promises are really not meant to be broken

Broken promises make way for stronger spirits
A spirit to live, love, survive and dream till you reach!

What’s a more challenging role – A crime reporter or a wife?

From being a crime reporter to being a wife, I don’t know which one is a difficult role to play. When I talk about my professional work experience and say I was a crime reporter once, there are people giving me a second look. Seriously? Wasn’t it difficult? Oh so risky... Journalism? You have to sacrifice so much for that. And so on.

But I wonder why doesn’t anybody say the same when I say I am married. Out of journalism for more than 3 years now, yet I remember getting back home with a smile. But marriage, the irritation of cooking for necessity every night after a 10 hours of work schedule and 3 hours of driving, I don’t remember getting back home with a smile. The demands and expectations from a wife is way too much when compared to a crime reporter. You end up slogging the entire day and when you are in need of a small help, you don’t find one hand to help or a ear to listen. Thank god I am not a mother yet. Fear even the thought of sacrificing a little more for another person.

Its not my story in isolation. Any married woman reading this would relate. Why cant a woman think about herself first? Why cant a woman become selfish? Why cant a woman live a life she wishes for, why? 

A mistake I made… I stepped out of my identity and questioned!

Relationships make you stronger. Those happy birthday cakes cut when the clock strikes 12, soothing smiles that open doors, the once-in-a-way giggly times sharing tales with your extended family, catching up with what’s happening in that distant cousin’s life, shopping something for another person every time you buy something for yourself… don’t these moments just make your life look more beautiful? Don’t these faces make you stronger every day to face the struggles of life? A small increment and long list of people to share it with... ahhh don't we just live for this....or ... Do we?

I may sound selfish here and I am not too sure if I am the only one looking at life from this perspective. I always thought my relationships made me stronger, made me focus, made me do well in everything I ventured into. But when I step out of my identity and witness myself, I see a different story. Every added relationship has made my life heavier. By heavier I mean the need to push myself and lose myself in the bargain. Then why build new relationships is what I ask?
We grow up looking at a small family around us and then the family grows slowly. Then you get married and suddenly the family has doubled. Now you have more people “concerned”, “interested” “worried” and yes advising you on your next steps. Do you still see yourself in you?
How have these added people added anything to your personality? In a span of 20 or 30 years you are just not the same person as you were supposed to be. No decision is yours but you are responsible when things go wrong. No plans are planned your way but you are to be blamed for not making a plan work. You are answerable to every message that sits in your inbox or every person who shares a chat with you.

I am not here to say why get into relationships. I am here to understand how any person around you has strengthened your personality.
I am not here to say I am right and the whole world is wrong…
I am here to understand the other perspective!
I am not here to say stop building relationships…
I am here to ask what strengthens relationships!
I am not here to say live a lonely life…
I am here to know why your life should interest anyone else!
I am not here to say live just for yourself…
I am here to ask… have you ever lived your life the way you want without giving it a second thought.
One life to live… Aren’t we better individuals being just the way we are?

In search of an answer… answer from my inner self

Is it ok to live a life of someone you just do not associate with? I don’t know. I do not have answers to a number of questions running in my head right now. For questions I thought my inner self was answerable, like

• Who am I? 
• What are my roles?
• What are my responsibilities?
• What is respect for me?
• What is my level of patience?
• What are my needs and necessities?
• What makes me happy?
• What makes me sad?
• And it ends with what it started with...Who am I?

Whenever I had a question, I always had an answer screaming from within. Loud and clear! Today, with so many questions in my head, I hear no answer. Not even a fading sound, not even a squeal.

• Isn’t killing your own rights a violation? 
• Isn’t killing your dreams a murder?
• Isn’t killing your ego a destruction?
• Isn’t killing your self esteem a suicide?

I do not know. I do not know. I do not know… In search of an answer… is somebody listening?

Life and after #life…

People know I have been a crime reporter. I think I have seen more dead bodies than anybody else in my family. It’s a fact, although there is nothing to be proud of. When I try to recall those days, there are a few gory pictures which cloud my head. The reason these pictures have remained in the back of my mind is because the death was brutal. I never cried for any deaths, as it was my job and no emotions involved.

Yesterday, I got to know a very close relative passed away. The picture of him lying helplessly like a bunch of bones is haunting me since then. He was a body builder who represented India internationally a number of times. The only picture about him I had till yesterday was looking at him in crisp ironed shirt which would remain so for the entire day. 

But when I saw him for the last time yesterday, I couldn’t find a single thing which could fit in the same frame of picture painted earlier.  He took care of his body like an asset which would never perish… but it did! A muscular body shrunk into a mass of bones and skin which was being addressed as just ‘body’.

Life… I still don’t know what’s the whole purpose of life

Why are kids born?

Why do we study?

Why do we work?

Why do we earn money?

What do we marry?

Why do we have kids?

Why do we grow old?

When we all have to #RIP one day! 

You taught me... then why hate me?

Had a tragic night when me and my husband were stuck on the highway with a flat tier. Somehow we found our way out and reached home safe. But the tier was screwed up big time and so was my car. Not just it was flat, but it was **^&*^* up.  But the next day, it was fixed and things were smooth with my car.

While this was the story of my car tier, I look into my life which is not much different from my car life. The car is something like a family run by its family members (the wheels). Even if one is damaged or punctured, the entire car halts. My life (as of now) is also like this… and me being the punctured.

Married against my parent’s wish and will. Never knew living my wish would cost me the wrath of my parents and my family.

Here is a something straight from my heart… dedicated to my loved family who stood by me whenever I stumbled, but missed them by my side when I needed them the most… 

You taught me to talk

Then why hate for what I spoke

You taught me to walk
Then why hate me for the path I chose

You taught me to be strong
Then why hate me for my strength to decide

You taught me to fight
Then why hate me when I fought for my right

You taught me to love all and hate none
Then why hate me for loving someone

You taught me not to discriminate
Then why am I the discriminated one

You taught me to be contended
Then why hate me for being happy

You taught me to dream big and aim bigger
Then why hate me for living my dream

You taught me to forgive
Then why hate me so much that I am the forgotten

You wish, you dream and then you live your dream…
But not every time everybody lives in your dream

You love, you marry and then you live your love life
But not every time everybody love your life