Tag: Experience

  •  From Dreams to Reality:  Embracing the Adventure 

     From Dreams to Reality:  Embracing the Adventure 

    As a 20-year-old navigating the journey of growing up, I often find myself reflecting on the challenges and experiences that have shaped me into the person I am today. It’s been a rollercoaster ride filled with excitement, uncertainty, and valuable life lessons.

    One of the biggest things I’ve discovered while growing up is finding my true self. During my teenage years, I constantly questioned who I really was and where I fit in. There were so many expectations from others and from myself that it felt overwhelming at times. But as I took the time to reflect on my passions and embrace what makes me unique, I realized that my true identity comes from being genuine and staying true to who I am at the core.

    Another aspect of growing up that has been both challenging and rewarding is navigating relationships. Whether it’s friendships, romantic partners, or family dynamics, relationships can be complicated. I’ve learned the importance of effective communication, resolving conflicts, and setting boundaries. Some friendships have grown stronger, while others have naturally faded away. Each connection has taught me something about myself and the kind of people I want to surround myself with – those who support and uplift me.

    Education and career choices have also played a significant role in my journey. The pressure to make the “right” decisions can be overwhelming. But what I’ve come to realize is that it’s okay to explore different interests and paths. It’s a process of self-discovery and growth, where I’ve learned to embrace change and take advantage of the opportunities that come my way. Each step, no matter how uncertain, has led me to new and unexpected experiences that have shaped my future.

    Amidst the challenges, there have been countless moments of joy and wonder. Trying out new hobbies, exploring different places, and immersing myself in diverse cultures have broadened my horizons and given me a fresh perspective on life. I’ve also had the privilege of meeting incredible individuals who have inspired and influenced me, leaving an everlasting impact on my heart.

    As I reflect on my journey so far, I can’t help but feel excited about what lies ahead. The future is an open book, waiting to be written. It’s an ongoing adventure that invites me to step out of my comfort zone, embrace new opportunities, and continue growing. There will be ups and downs, successes and setbacks, but I’m determined to make the most of every moment and keep evolving as a person.

    The story of growing up is far from over. It’s a beautiful tapestry of experiences, passions, and personal growth that continues to unfold. I eagerly look forward to the next chapter, where I’ll discover more about myself and the world around me. Life is full of possibilities, and I’m excited to see where it takes me next. The journey continues, and I’m ready to embrace it with open arms.

  •                             ………..

  • The Japanese traveler

    The Japanese traveler

    Minstro mintu was a thinly old man with a shrill voice and crazy looking beard. He had traveled from far south to reach the shrine of Bilael, a demi god of their tribe. During his journey he would stop at any place after 8 at night and begin again the next day before the sunrise. At times he had to stay in a small village at others he stayed at big towns but it was all the same for him. Because where ever he goes he would find a lonely place to pass his night into much needed relaxing sleep. On about December’s end minstro arrived at Kejuyan town which was famous for it’s sculptors all over Japan. It was getting dark, so he decided to stay on for the night.

    In search of a calm place he stumbled upon a secluded dumping ground. He found a clean and composed place and lit fire with ancient stone friction technique. As the fire illuminated the dark lonely place, he saw there were old broken sculptures lying scattered all around him.Then he spread open his belongings which he carried along with him in a bag, hung on the top end of a long hardwood stick. It had all the necessary accessories to comfort him during his travel. He was carrying a mouthorgan, a tiny bottle of Rum, few clean clothes, and some bread. He drank some Rum and played a heart touching tune on his instrument and within few minutes, the alien land turned into quite a warm homely place.

    As Minstro’s night was passing in confortable warmth in the middle of the wilderness, a stray puppy came sniffing from the rags. Minstro called him close and petted it’s back. Finding comfort recieving warmth and affection in Minstro’s company. Minstro too liked the love of his unexpected guest and started narrating his life’s story to the pup. He told how he was a rich silk merchant and how after having lost the love of his life, Mia Shin, he left all his materialistic possessions back home and started on foot for a pilgrimage to the other corner of the world. The listener closed his eyes and felt soon asleep but Minstro continued his tale.

    He recounted how Mia Shin faked love and got engaged to an even wealthier person. But owing to his pure feelings he couldn’t bear to see her with another man. He was unable to find a cure for his unhappiness from the best doctors in his town. He drank for so many days and was in sheer pain from betrayal of his sweetheart that he only wanted to waste his remaining life. His mother called for him one day and ordered him to leave for a pilgrimage and find real happiness in the devine grace of sacred Bilael.

    With a weeping heart he began to journey towards the north, hoping never to see any joy again in his dull and depressed life. Then where ever he went, he only noticed the all pervading dullness and sufferings of the human life. Moving across the 7 nations he saw humans in their pride, anger and greed and still never made an assumption for them. He passed through the dark alleys of big cities filled with cries of prostitutes and illegitimate children and felt sorry for them. He met criminals and thiefs on his way to the shrine and yet prayed for their reformation. He shed tears for those young soldiers who were bloodbathed while protecting their mother land. And walked by the luxurious houses of ministers who gave empty hopes and false promises to their country men.

    He saw young girls falling in love with the wrong men and many men wasted in love of their cunning mistress’. Which made him remind of his own past. Wishing them the company of honest spouses he passed them too silently. He saw how people use to treat him with great respect while he wore silk robes and how lowly people view him while wearing ragged clothes. In a world full of hypocrites he continued walking with a poker face.

    Amidst this loss and pain, Minstro looked around himself that day. He finally realised the beauty of the broken statues and the warmth of unconditional love of the dog. For a minute he went into deep thinking and then he said, ” I have traveled a long distance for so many days and seen so much loss everywhere on this planet that I would have shun the idea of continuing my journey as soon as I started, yet there is one thing which still kept me going.” It was, he said, ” the soothing joys of being alone”.

    At about midnight a noise was heard in the dead cold silence, a cracking sound was heard from a near by rock statue, it seemed as if something had broken. It was nothing but the heavy heart which snapped into pieces that moment when mistro finished narrating his life’s story. Perhaps the winters were really too harsh that year. Or another possibility could be, that the statue too had a story of his own to share with a lonely traveler.

    Minstro turned towards the statue of the curly haired youg boy sitting on a rock with his head resting on his palms, it shed tears on to the ground beneath it. Minto asked the boy,” what’s ailing you”. The boy replied,” many years ago, their lived a master craftsman in the town. His name was Diago. He made many beautiful statues. Then one day, he carved a very beautiful princess out of a brilliant white marble. Her beauty was mesmarising. Diago fell deeply in love with the statue but as he couldn’t have loved a lifeless stone figure for the rest of his life. So brokenheart he went far away from us leaving us all alone.” Sculpture responded,” for a long time I felt lonlyness was a curse untill today when you found your happiness in a lonely life.”

    Statue demanded minstro to suggest a fitting solution to find his happiness to, being a wise traveler of the South. Then Minstro exclaimed, life is so full of misery and pain that the only wise man is the one who accepts the pains as inevitable and sees good in the most sad moments of his life. Minstro said, “never admired the beauty in broken stone sculptures as long as my eyes were rested at expensive silk fabrics. I never knew real love, untill one day a little pup really made me feel that”.

    He found his cure in lonelyness, and found happiness in himself. The sculpture found his answer so did Minstro. He streched himself and soon felt the heaviness around his eyelids. He fell deep asleep in the cozy place.

    The next morning Minstro wished goodmorning to the statue but it did not reply back. He checked the statue by knocking over it’s shoulder but it didn’t respond at all. Believing the previous night’s incident as part of a lucid dream, Minstro prepared himself to accomplish his remaining journey. As he gave one last glance towards the forgotten statue, he was surprised to find a crack right on it’s heart. Minstro smiled and bid his final goodbye.

  • The Person Who Changed My Life

    The Person Who Changed My Life

    In your life you meet people who either make you or break you. You come across teachers who you either love and respect deeply, the teachers who help you understand life and not just academics; the one who are there for you. You also meet teachers who, themselves, are so troubled and you’d rather not interact with them once you’re done with your course year. I had the privilege to meet a teacher who changed my life – for the better. This person came in my life with a purpose to help me understand how the world works, how life works and how I can change my own life and do something with it. This person taught me that nobody will help me if I am not ready to help my own self. He taught me how to love and be loved. Somebody who never got tired of my immature problems and always took out time to explain me the formulas of life and not just chemistry.  So, this one’s to him, to the one who calmed me at my most vulnerable phase of life – my Science teacher.

    When I first met him, I did not know that this is the man who is going to change how I view my life. As a kid, I was really sad and disturbed. I constantly missed my father, who I had lost in a terrible train accident. When my grandpa passed away, things got even worse. I did not like living, as if I even knew what life was back at 13 years! I thought I wasn’t good enough and I wouldn’t be able to accomplish the dreams I had. Then, I started talking to my Math teacher in my coaching class.  An incredible and wise woman, who always heard me and encouraged me. She knew everything about me back then. Who was my celebrity crush, what was my favorite colour, how close I was to my mother, everything. I loved talking to her and she really did make me feel like I have a voice and I am heard. I told her about my crazy obsession with Justin Bieber and how I was actually in love with him. After that conversation, two or three days later, he (my teacher)  walks into my class and starts making really unfunny “Just IN case” jokes. I knew he was pulling my leg and honestly, his humor hasn’t improved ever since. After that incident, we started talking in class and the office. Then, I added him on Facebook and we would talk there. The conversations nothing more than “Hi, how are you, blah.”

    However, after a few months, my academic performance started dilapidating and it became a concern. That was when I started talking to sir about my problems and how I felt so alone sometimes. I think I told him too much about myself and he was there through it all. He really did become the father I always wished to have at some point in my life. Every time something went wrong, I always thought of him and how he would help me and oh, did he. He always told me, “Shweta, there is no trying. You either do it or you don’t,” and I never understood that. I always told him, “Look, I try to study instead of thinking about Justin Bieber, but I just cannot!” To which he’d reply, “You’re simply not doing it. The word ‘trying’ limits you so much that you just end up not doing it,” and I have this conversation registered in my head. Whenever I say, “I’m gonna try,” I quickly reframe it and say, “I’m gonna do it.” This is just one of the many lessons he has taught me. He made me realize that I did not “lose” my dad or my grandpa, they are right here, next to me, always. Oh, he was also my first dance in 10th grade when we went for a camp.

    So, when I say he changed my life and that he helped me develop into a wise, wonderful person, I mean it. I mean it from the bottom of my heart. He played a big part in my life and I’m forever grateful to him for that. In fact, he is still there for me. I could just call him and he will be right there (after at least 50 calls)  to help me through whatever problem I’m facing. However, the truth is, he has enabled me to solve my own problems and to believe in myself. I owe him a big one, and I hope, I really hope, one day I can give it all back to him. Till then, I hope this blog post and my prayers will suffice.

    Thank you so much for everything, sir. I love you and you really are the love of my life! Not even Justin is so close to my heart as you are (and I hope that makes you happy).

  • SRIRACHA

    SRIRACHA

    The clattering sound of the rain against my den’s windshield woke me up from my much needed respite . It was yet another dream to add to my plethora of spooky nights. I was stranded in the lands of unbeknownst, the winds were humming as I tasted the needled cold. The ever growing pine trees all around dwarfed me while the thick bed of fresh snow beneath my knee high snow boots,nearly collapsed with every alternate step leaving me with a fainter heart. The sun sneered at me while he faded away with my hope.

    With the gray cast sky,and a closing in storm, my vision was at it’s best I must say. I could see the gargantuan walls of a possible castle less than a few yards away. The snow blotted with fresh blood left a trail. I was in grave need of shelter for all the obvious reasons. I began to trod towards it, along the ground profile which was no better than my “social life”.

    My dad’s third transfer in the last couple of years. If you’d let alone the financial stability, we were no better than a bunch of vagrants. He was never home or maybe I was used to the idea of him not being. The new school was totally welcoming as my mother liked to put it. I should tell you that I was a mediocre and no stud kid .Being the timid kid I am, getting bullied was more of a pastime. I had to make sure that my mom never got her hands on my blood stained handkerchiefs. The only thing that gravitated me towards school was the “psychology lecture”.

    Professor Steve Hughes was a cool guy. Listen up, he was also a celibate *shush*. His lectures were mostly awe inspiring. More than often we used to talk about interesting things, criminal psychology,hypnosis and lucid dreaming,were a few worth mentioning. I was totally pumped up to practice lucid dreaming the moment I learnt about it. He helped me big time. I used to go to his place and spend quality time with him. We’d talk about world , space , time and beyond. I’d started to idolize him. Wait. Is that my father?

    He was smiling at me across the asphalt as the truck crushed his skull before my eyes. He was reduced to a gross mass of meat.

    If Professor Steve was my dad, my mom?

    My mom started bobbing her head like a hen, but wait she was a hen! She was now pecking the grains at my feet. A man laced his hands with mine. He had a cock on his tee shirt. Sriracha’s worker? My heavens! Sriracha’s sauce tastes like sauce! Of course , it’s sauce!

    The sauce left a trail. Some nimcompoop had spilled it.! Idiot.! To my surprise,the castle was nothing but Sriracha’s! The whole god damned factory! The owner gleefully looked at me and passed a crate of fresh sauce,while I was trying to absorb reality. But reality?

    I woke up to the clattering sound of the rain against my den’s windshield. Sixteen years had passed since I last shared a plate of french fries with Professor Satish Hegde in the IISc canteen,and he had mentioned how much he loved Sriracha sauce that I had brought him from Thailand.

    He had adopted me from an orphanage when I was six, and made me the man I am today.

    He shouldn’t have missed his radiotherapy sessions over eating fries with me!

    PS:

    The thing that really intrigues me is

    Who am I?

    Who narrated the story to me?

    Is my brain exclusive of me?

    How was there an element of mystery and surprise when I spoke to myself?

    Am I being oblivious to myself?

    Do brains live a life of their own in incognito!