NaMoWriMo #6

hello.

it’s been 6 days since I last wrote. it is funny because it is not difficult for me at all to lapse into a state of stagnancy and not write. but I am determined to make this work, guys. I will reach #30 of my NaMoWriMo series as an attempt to revive the blog.

so why did I not blog for the past week? well, that’s just what happens when I go home. all semblance of a routine that I have in my life goes out the window when I go home. it is y tiny two day vacation I squeeze into my life every ten days or so. it’s where all rules get suspended, everything that I do congeals into a mass that looks like me that either hogs at the dining table or sleeps like a dog through the day. it does not help that my parents sleep at 9 pm and seeing them only pushes me further into sleeping, no matter the fact that they’ve been up since 6 am and I’ve had three different naps at different points of the day. it is like my vacation days (two days, thanks adulthood) operate on a dimension where all time does not exist and what even is college????

what have I done in the past week then? good question. I have given an exam that got announced twelve hours before we had to give it. I met two of my professors for career (and life, because let’s be real. I don’t know what I am doing here!!!) advice. I tried waking up early (and I mean early early, like 5 am) three days in a row and failed. I watched a Korean movie called Parasite (hit me up if you want to discuss because omggg!). I had three great dinners that I really enjoyed after a long time. I filled one application and edited an SOP for a friend. I talked to two people after a long time and had a great conversation with one another. I have been having an existential crisis because I have 3 presentations, 4 papers, 2 applications, and 2 internship applications due over the next two weeks, not to mention the final year confusion. it’s also my mom’s fiftieth birthday next week so I have to plan for that because my dad cannot do it (thank you very much, btw!)

what now? well, the only reason I started writing this in the first place is because I am procrastinating. ok, that is only kind of partially true, but that’s not what was in my mind when I started writing. the reason why I am writing is because I was doing  crossword puzzle (the easy one) and I couldn’t figure one out. I feel like I am in a haze, dazed up stage where words seem to evade me and there’s a vacuum around me. I felt like I was unable to articulate anything and was beyond thinking about words (excellent timing for which, by the way! who wouldn’t want to not be able to think about words when they have so!! many!! things!! due!!) but that is what this post is aimed at. I just want to be able to break out the vacuum in the next half hour so that I can begin studying properly. hopefully, it works.

so what will I do until this haze clears away? I have this dope playlist on my Spotify, that I am listening to even now and that I can’t find a link to, but it is one of my Daily Mixes. I might even watch a movie or so and hopefully feel better before I start with the studies.

also, omg, forgot to mention that I saw a lot, a lot of good movies this week- Inglorious Basterds by Tarantino, Vertigo by Hitchcock, Parasite by Bong Joon-Ho (need to watch his entire filmography next), Intersteller by Nolan, and Even the Rain (a Spanish film about the Cochabamba protests and it’s great). I have a couple more lined up that I need to watch. I’ll be watching Hitchcock’s rear Window in a class, Bridget Jones Diary, Notting Hill, and How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days for a presentation, and there’s this one Malayalam movie called Kumbalangi Nights that has rave reviews that I want to watch. so if there is anyone is up for discussing,/fangirling/hating/debating about any of these movies, hit me up because I would love to talk!

that’s enough for today, I suppose. have a good time.

NaMoWriMo #5

ok so technically it should be #6. I know the math. but in order to do my one month of writing justice, it will just have to be #5 for now.

so what was I doing last night that I couldn’t write based on the one single promise I made to myself? I wish I could say but my dad reads the blog and I’m going home tomorrow. (sorry appa!) but let me not get ahead of myself.

this weekend is Cascade, a three day intra-college fest that we have every monsoon semester so that we can chill out and have some fun before the end semester final exams mania starts. it’s a fun little way to get the tension out of our system, meet with old and new friends, have good food, dance, and dress up. it’s a party!

now, it was also a Saturday and I have a 3 hour class in the morning. I could only get free by 1:30 pm after which we had lunch and we had a great conversation, thanks to which I did not get to my room before 4. there were two of us, me and my friend, who also had to make an itinerary for an upcoming trip. all in all, we got no work done and finally left for Mahesh. it is this lovely dhabba that we have right in front of our college that serves piping hot paranthas, amazing Maggi, french fries and similar snacks. me and about 7 other people went there yesterday, and with music blaring from our speakers, we had the most amazing time imaginable. I had such good food, such good company, such a good time that it was almost unbelievable. and the cherry on the pie was that we had a DJ night to get back to once we got to the campus. and you all know I’m not one to brag.

anyway, that’s how it was. I had some things to take care of, but I still got to dance for about half an hour. and even after the DJ was over, the conversation was prolonged till it was maybe half past midnight. and it wasn’t anything serious. there were four of us and we kept talking about the most random things before finally retiring. I’m not kidding but I had one of the most fun days yesterday.

so forgive me for not having writing but I was out there, living my life at least once, for a change! even this one I wrote half sleep, but I hope you get the sentiment. this is not the blogging attempt where I give it up four days in. let’s see. thanks for being so cool. also thanks to myself for having stepped out of my comfort zone and having great fun!

NaMoWriMo #4

it has been a long, tiresome day and I have a lot of work to do.

this is almost all of what I have to say today.

NaMoWriMo #3

today was a good day.

this may come across as a surprise, especially since it comes right after my existential crisis but it is true. the effects of the crisis still linger but this time, unlike anytime before, I managed to turn it into something productive, and that did, in fact, make all the difference. it’s so funny to me that the difference between a good day and a bad day depends merely on your action or inaction. maybe also because I’ve tried really hard this week to not resort to the unproductive, isolating activities I’ve indulged in, over the course of the last three years. but whatever the case, I’m happy today and that is what really matters.

the day started off slow, with me missing my 9 am class, because sleep. I was determined to make it to my next and only class on the agenda for today. in feminist theory lecture today, we decided on out final text for the semester, this essay called In Search of Our Mother’s Gardens by Alice Walker. Walker has been on my reading list for so long now so I’m happy about that. it was when I was leaving the class that I met a friend I had not seen for a long time. we talked about the sun and the weather, thesis advisers and proposals, surrogacy, depression, Dadri, placements, and Raag Darbari, and it was such a pleasant conversation to have. towards the end, we even talked about our experiences of the semester, where we discussed the need for positive thinking and the importance of relaxing and taking things lightly.

the thing is that I know what exactly I should do when things aren’t going my way (my dad must be chuckling reading this). more often than not, it is only due to my laziness that I generally don’t end up doing it. I know how I should try to orient my thinking, what thoughts I should filter and what thoughts I should actually have. I know what kind of a thinking (positive) I need to develop to not get wrapped around silly ideas and mental exhaustion. it is only that I don’t end up doing them.

after a similar conversation with my friend over lunch, where we also discussed a couple of things that were bothering her, I retired to my room, fueled (and somewhat warned) by the reality check I got yesterday, where worked for bout an hour, filling applications, looking at instructions, getting my paperwork in order, preparing my schedule and everything else. a little exhausted but also very distracted, I don’t know what struck me. maybe it was my conscience telling me something or maybe it was my sore muscles after my workout from the day before, but I decided I would go to the gym. me, a socially anxious girl who was going to the gym for the first time without a partner, who was going to work out in fit college students, yes, me, decided to go to the gym. and I did. I worked out for about 40 minutes and I felt so…almost vibrant after such a long time. I felt like I was the protagonist of my own show, who’s just overcome this challenge, and on whom the brilliant white light shines from heaven, as the enlightened being transcends all humans to become the first superhuman. it was glorious, and not a word of this is contrived or exaggerated.

anyway, I go for dinner, come back and as I settle into my bed, having changed my clothes and having turned the lights off, I felt this glow in my heart. I felt the love of everyone who loves me and I did something that I rarely do from college. I called my grandparents. first my dada. he told me the same story he has told me before, he asked me the same questions, and he blessed me like he does everyday. but I don’t know why it felt like it worked today. then, I called my nana. I had been thinking of my nana since the morning, about his health and how strong he had looked during Diwali, and seeing his face brought me happiness like I haven’t felt in a long time. I felt so loved, so blessed, hearing him ask me questions, ask me my whereabouts, telling me to come over the weekend. it was the first time in a long time where I actually realized how lucky I am to have grandparents who love me the way mine do. it was with this warm feeling in my heart that I returned to my work.

it’s been about four hours since then, and the feeling hasn’t receded. you know there are times when you feel like everything happened exactly how it was supposed to have happened? that is how I felt today. I felt like everything was exactly where it should have been, like I was exactly where I should have been today, like I did what I should have done today. I felt successful, I felt productive, I felt like I had achieved something. I felt like, I feel like I have a candle in my heart that refuses to burn out, providing me warmth and heat and light. that’s how I feel today.

that’s how I know it is a good day.

NaMoWriMo #2

it’s day 2 of NaMoWriMo, and I’m still writing. if I were you, I would probably commend me for even writing at all, considering the existential crisis I’ve been experiencing since 5:45 pm in the evening. yes, I am having an existential crisis.

the last time I wrote with a commitment to the blog and to my lovely readers was probably when I was nearly finishing high school. I was applying to colleges, to different programs, all the while preparing for my Board examinations, and I was quite worried because the future had never seemed more bleak or uncertain as it had then. it’s funny how history repeats itself.

because after four years, countless memories, uncertain identities and shifting loyalties, I return to writing, and to the blog, in a similar predicament. with four years of college behind me, and having about seven times the knowledge I had before, I am once again applying to colleges, only that it is ten times worse than it was for my undergrad. because this time, there are no do-overs. once I commit, it is for lifelong– rather, it is a life. normally, I would not be so pessimistic in my approach to the future, but the enormity of the situations scares me. the future is not that far anymore, and there is hardly enough time for me to slow down, and take on life one breath at a time.

so, my existential crisis. at 5:03 pm, I walk into my tutorial class. we discussed Kubla Khan for about 40 minutes after which we talked about Biographia Literaria, Coleridge, Mumbai, NET, why you should clear it and how you should prepare for it- in that order. you can probably guess where it is heading my now. my anxiety levels have already risen. it is 5:58 pm now and the next class is to happen in the same room. only then, the TA makes a primer for all the basic exams that any masters’ prospective student should give. evaluation scheme, syllabus, entrance exams, intake, question paper format, she does not spare any details. to add the cherry to the pie, she almost instructs us to apply to SNU as well, citing it to be one of the best in India for English literature. I was weeping internally by this time.

clearly, existential crisis had intensified. what was supposed to be a light tutorial session for a Romantic poem turned into a reality check that was just what I did not need. it will take me three days now, just to return back to my senses. the future is scary, it is uncertain, and I want to put off being in it for as long as I can. I cannot say that I enjoy it here, but I certainly do know what is going to happen, and that is reassurance enough at the moment.

so in honour of the TA being to freak me out, I am going to finish watching Vertigo that I started in the morning today but fell asleep halfway through. this is, I think, my second quality movie in two days. the one I watched yesterday was this amazing Spanish film called Even The Rain. I would definitely recommend it. it is amazing what a small but tight commitment can do. I can actually see my slow disassociation with binging and my engagement with better quality content. I’m saving time, I’m talking to people, I am writing!!

it is in keeping in line with this that I will also attempt to read a couple of articles on the consequences of demonetization due tomorrow morning, 9 am. don’t think I will be able to  get to a couple of pages by Nabakov, but that’s ok since I read for a while between my classes today.

this is day #2 of the NaMoWriMo, and this is Akanksha signing off for the day.

Anouncement

It has been long since I’ve logged into WordPress to blog and a lot has changed since then. I have officially wrapped up my first year of university (I know, can you believe it? It feels like yesterday since I posted on the first night in my hostel room!). I have moved back home and embarked on a three month long summer that has me fidgeting to do anything productive. My hair has grown up to my lower back, and it looks lovely. I have entered my last month as an eighteen year old. I have started reading more books as pdf files since I’ve realized that it is practically free and economically helpful. I have worn out my favorite pair of jeans.

My sister has entered her tenth grade and is prepping well for her board examinations at the end of the year. My mother has completed her training as an Art of Living teacher and taken two courses already. My father has submitted his Ph.D thesis and is training to be an Art of Living teacher. My friend Anusha returned from Thailand and got me nothing (thanks dude!) and Anahita is going to the US for the summer and Palak completed her high schooling and it looking at college options.

Why am I acquainting you all with these changes, and why now?

I have not been  good blogger of late, simply because blogging has not been on the top of my priority list, and let alone the top, it is nowhere on my priority list. I have been avoiding my blog of late because I don’t feel the need to blog anymore. Earlier, this place was an catalyst to let the creative juices flow.  Now, I am writing, but it is not making it to my blog anymore. Maybe it is because somewhere I feel like I am censoring myself. The honesty and truth that I like my work to contain has been restricting me from posting here, for I feel that it is way to personal for such an intimate area, with so many people I know reading it.

That is why I have decided to take a short break from my blog. In the next thirty days, I will continue writing, and I will think about the future of this blog. I don’t want to do something out of guilt or obligation to myself or anyone else because that would not be fair. Maybe all I need is a do over but I am taking this time apart to see how it I really feel about nurturing this blog. In the meanwhile, I shall be extremely happy if any of you get in touch with me to chat if you want.

Until then, I hope that you all have a wonderful time. See you in 30 days.

xoxo, Akanksha

Let Me Tell You Something About Depression.

(This is a poem that I had originally written with the intention of performing)

They say you feel sad all the time, I beg to differ
I do not feel sad, always. There are times when I laugh so much
that I think I just overreact on the days I suffer,
but the thing that remains true is that that only happens
once in a blue moon, when I do, in fact, manage to get
out of my bed, choose a pair of jeans over a pajama instead
and join my friends to watch a movie they had planned
we would, but from which I had withdrew, as late as I could.
They seem to think that I talk and laugh among them
so it is so absurd an idea that I may even have a reason to feel
differently, when in fact, the truth is that the times
I am with them, is when I am truly different, for they haven’t seen
me in my natural habitat. The days, the low days, as I call them
are stretches of days when all my troubles stem
from a single root, I sleep too much, but that I something I cannot help.
These days I do not wake before noon, when the world has done
half its chores, I cannot but wake up from my snores, and
even then, I lie in bed, till my stomach has growled some angry words.
But I beg it to keep quiet as I try to go about my business,
to attend the classes that I have left and not think about the ones I did not,
but then, the cursed bed pulls me its way, and wills me to sleep again and again
till the ancient moon rises and all the trouble of classes, I almost forgot.
These days the world feels weird as if I am eating sand,
road trips, movies, going out, bathing, eating food, all feels like a scam.
The days are long and the ceiling fan seems amusing, there is emptiness
around me, the world seems like a hole, a void in the dark that nothing can complete.
There is silence, the phone does ring and the doorbell too,
the silence screams louder, emptiness fills the room and there is emptiness still.  
These days, I hardly talk to anyone, and Solitude is my friend
and these are day when I don’t get out of my bed, for days on at end.
These are days that I don’t get out of bed, so I have no reason to look in a mirror
that reminds of my bruised, broken self, and I turn the lights dimmer.
Darkness feels bliss as the blackness reminds me I am alone
and I smile a little to myself, and think about every soul I know.
The Darkness and Solitude, my two dear friends, find for me great reasons,
why my friends who I took years to trust might not like me anymore
and thus begins the cycle of self-attack as my words carve scars in my esteem
 and on and on and on it goes, until my veins are clean.
And when the entire cycle happens three four times and again,
the sun finally rises, but I am a desolate survivor, there is no one to help,
and so my critical self tries again to build walls so I don’t hurt,
not realizing that I am the victim and I, myself, the killer.
And thus begins the healing, till I feel my feel my veins fuller.
On days like these, I talk selectively, and my voice feels kind of sick
and they ask me so and I wish I could tell them, I am mentally unfit
but all I say is I am fine, and there is some stress in my life,
and in this time I smile, I make it my façade, it hides my real self
and all the misery and the sadness that I had just felt.
And days later, just as I feel something close to being happy (that is when I laugh)
 it all start again, the laughter fades, my ears ring, I feel myself receding
unwillingly into that haunted land, where few have ventured, separately
and made friends with Solitude and Darkness and their friends: Loathe and Despair;
Finger nails scratching, dragging my own self as I am pleading,
crying in vain, hoping someone stops to listen, but it is an empty wail
as it all starts again, it all starts again, it all starts again and yet again.

 

What I Learnt in My First Month in University

Four days ago was one month since I moved out of my house to the hostel in my university. Here are my observations on how it has been:

1. Some teachers won’t give a damn if you won’t. They won’t bother if you are listening, if you’re napping, if you’re on your cell phones. Your education is in your hands. It is up to you to pay attention.

2. On the other hand, the teachers who do actually teach will not spoonfeed you. They will give you stepping stones, they will tell you what you want, in a manner that’ll make you want to rip off your hair. But at the end, you’ll get an idea of what they were talking about. You’ll be grateful that they didn’t tell you. You’ll be happy that you were able to arrive at what you did without anyone putting thoughts in your head.

3. There are no fixed schedules. Your sleeping pattern revolves around the work you have. You may have a class at 9 in the morning and the paper due the same morning. You will have to work till dawn, you will have to sleep for 3 hours and you’ll have to attend the class. 

4. Which is why, don’t procrastinate. If you do, you’ll have not have the satisfaction of having submitted a paper that you actually like. For the two papers that I’ve submitted so far, I have  worked and I enjoyed the process. Even though it kept me awake till 4, the feeling that I had before going to sleep was unparalleled.

5. You’ll have a lot of free time at hand. For people like me who have classes I only 2 days a week and who are literally the most shy and laziest people in the planet, it’s very easy to fall into the trap of sleep. It’ll beckon you, call you, force you in subordination so much that you’ll sleep 15 hours a day. You’ll have to resist that. I fell into that pattern and believe me, that week, I didn’t have more than 10-12 meals of the 21 meals I should have been having. 

6. Which is why, get involved. One of the best ways you can make friends is by getting involved. Find your interest and go for it. You’ll find your kind of people if you venture out of your comfort zone. Even if you can’t, sit on the quad, go to the library, sit in the café; you’ll find someone to talk to.

7. Saying that, there will come a time when you’ll lose your appetite. The mess food will taste like sand, each meal of each day and you will literally feel your appetite fading. And you would be able to go one for days on just water. At that time, eat. Go to tuck shops, make popcorn, buy a sandwich but eat. Nourishment is important.

8. Have a night out with friends. Just go to the park, and sit there. Walk around, let the dew kiss your feet, play music, wait for the stars to recede. Talk about yourselves, know each other, your pasts, presents, futures. Witness the sunrise, I swear, you’ll feel like you were meant for that day only. (Not to mention, sleep at six and miss the first class of the day!)

9. There will be times when you’ll feel homesick, you’ll feel alone, and miserable. You’ll miss your home, your family, your friends, your school. You’ll feel like crying all the things that you’ve felt since you left home. Cry. Cry your heart out, in the pillow, on a shoulder, in the afternoon, at night after everyone’s asleep. You’ll feel a lot better, you’ll feel lighter, you’ll feel more settled.
10. You are here to learn but you’re here to make memories too. Many of the people you meet will probably end up becoming your closest friends for the rest of your life. Which is why, choose them carefully. I’m not saying don’t talk to anyone. Rather, talk, but make sure that the people you pour your heart out to deserve you. Don’t settle for less. You’re worth a lot more than a toxic relationship. Never demerit yourself. 

These are the few things that I learnt, rather experienced, in the first month. Do they match your college life, or are they not what you experiences? I’d love to hear from you!

Until the next month, then!

A Poem Inside A Poem

“I only like long poems,” she said.

So I started thinking of one.

An hour later, I had her in my bed, 

I said, “For me, you are the winter sun.”

Children Of War

I wish I could pack my bags and leave;
to hug every sobbing child out there,
the thousands of Omrans’ who sit in rescue cars and ambulances
too shocked to know from where the blood
gushes down their face, too terrified, stunned
to even cry; , two, five, seven, nine year olds,
rescued from under the rubble
of five storied buildings, silently
wiping their hands on the seat of the vehicles.

I wish I could reassure them all
that there are people who love them,
that there is a world in which buildings don’t
topple like house of cards, and where
the sounds of winds and clouds are heard,
more often that the sounds of bombs and bullets;
that trees are not always coated with dust and dirt;
that you can watch  movie, you can take a walk
and return, return to your house, not vanish on the way.

I wish I could tell them that the skies,
they are blue, not black from the smoke
the bombs create; that sometimes,
the earth moves and you can see the sunrise;
that at night, it’s not always light
from the rescue operations; and no, not
everyone who looks at you will point a gun at you;
that sometimes, the house will shake
because the earth shakes and not because
something is going up in flames, yet again.

But who am I to say that to them-
to the children of war- who’ve-not trained-
but rather, learnt to shake like a leaf when the skies rumble
day and night, and not a single drop of rain falls;
who’ve learnt that death will always be accompanied
by a broken limb, and  blowed-out brains, and
coated in red, the color of the sun at a sunset
they’ve never seen? Who am I to break their
perfect view of the world in which cancer is
unheard of and AIDS does not exist?

Who am I to tell them that they can dream of a world
without war, a world like one in which I live, where the
problem is the rise in the price of potatoes and not
that my father won’t return for the potato curry dinner,
where the problem is the termite in my house
or the lack of drinking water and not that my house
might get bombarded, and my loved ones killed,
where the problem is the in living and not in surviving-
but who am I to tell them that, to the children of war-
when I was the one who created it?