Tag Archives: help

Boots.

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She trudged along the gravelled path,

Far from home, lost in the rush of the world,

Her boots worn, her back stooped,

The winds, cold and brazen, cut across,

The skin on her face drooped.

 

Her eyes stung with tears,

That refused to fall out,

She shut them close,

Wanting to push the world out.

 

Alone and desolate, she bawled,

Her cries ringing, echoing in her own ears,

Her thoughts drowning out what little sound was left,

Over clicking boots and howling winds,

She didn’t hear the answers to her calls of help!

Help may not always come in the shape you desired but it will be there, in the most unexpected circumstances, from the most unexpected people. Never cease to believe that you’re cared for, loved by and the pride of someone among the 7 billion of us and counting!

Let those boots take you to places but never forget what coming back home is like. Home, after all, is where the heart is. ❤

Graciously Yours!

 

 

Life Notes #13.

Is happiness an illusion? Or is the search for happiness a mirage that lures you until you’re too lost to even know so?

News media often carries reports of people who have failed to measure success in their acts – standards of success that the society set for us all, marks in examinations, money in jobs, marriage by a certain age, being a mother – suffer from depression and end their lives.

But once in a while you also come across relatively successful people, who have much more means, who have earned more respect than the average individual, yet they too suffer from depression. A couple of years ago, a well-known Bollywood actress Deepika Padukone, opened up about reclaiming her life from the dark clutches of depression. She shared her vulnerability with the world at large, and very bravely so. She made depression a household phrase, more rightly and less commonly used from then on.

Just in came news of an IPS officer, aged merely 30, who committed suicide, apparently due to depression. The case is still under investigation so it is possible the facts of the case might change later. But becoming an IPS officer is an achievement few have been able to boast about in the country. Out of 9 lakh aspirants each year, merely 200 are able to achieve the glory. And it requires you to slog your ass off! I know it because I’ve myself given it a shot or two. He was just 30. But being an IPS officer must have meant he was immensely respected and an immensely powerful carrier of change. Despite what I think would have been an ideal place in life, he was under depression. And depression strong enough to lead him to end his life – which means sharing his plight with others hadn’t helped, hoping that he had. It saddens me to think that someone in his stature, position and with the visibility among people he had, the visibility his work demanded, the best of therapists he could afford, he still believed the death was the solution. That deprived his soul felt!

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I know there could have been circumstances at work or at home which may not have ended in a rosy life. I know there could have been sufferings in his past that had led to this step. I know there could have been therapists and medicines but they didn’t work. I know all of it. I acknowledge that I do not know the full story. But I fear the fear depression institutes in people, the helplessness it causes, the grief it brings to our beings.

And that is what leads me to think:

Is happiness an illusion? Or is the search for happiness a mirage that lures you until you’re too lost to even know so?

Graciously Yours!

A Blocked 2018. (As Yet)

It happened! It was inevitable. Some day or the other I was bound to be in its clutches. Now I know when my friend says she’s zoned out or that she can’t put pen to paper.

I have the the writer’s block! I can’t seem to get to writing. But I wanted to take a break from taking a break at the blog now! So here I am blabbering about a blocked me. At least, you’d know I am still alive and well, which I am.

Anyone knows how to get rid of the writer’s block?

All help is appreciated!

Graciously Yours!

What’s your coffee like?

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We are all broken. Yes, you read it right. We are all broken, in some way or the other. A heartbreak, death, failure, lost friendship, loneliness, disease – the demons are endless and varied. It’s a spectrum, where every person has their individual place reserved. Yet, we fail to acknowledge, accept, deal with such a simple truth. We fail to be a support, a shoulder, a helping hand to others. We choose to not look beyond ourselves. We worry our own worries, magnify our own problems, fail to rejoice life’s little moments of happiness, forget to be kind to others, judge galore and appreciate paltry.

No one, not you, me, the richest, or the strongest, the oldest, or the holiest is perfect – perfection is an illusion. Our scars help us stand out, tell our stories, make us human, be our lessons. There’s nothing wrong with pulling down your walls and opening up to others. It’s not a sign of weakness. It’s a sign of strength, a strength which not many have, a strength which gives you the courage to love back even with a broken heart. It’s okay to be scared, afraid of another scar, fearsome of the negativity others may poison you with, but it’s also okay to trust, to take small steps towards an outstretched helping hand, to acknowledge another’s love, to shed the cloak of invisibility, to remove the mask of a smile.

Life may seem difficult when you’re facing it all alone. But you don’t have to. Help comes to all those who ask for it. You just need to ask. There’s a heart out there which will make your breaks whole. Don’t let go of that hope. Also. Be that hope to others.

Graciously Yours!

To Be Or Not To Be Human.

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I have fallen into the habit of keeping a Google News tab open on my laptop every day, choosing to read the daily news update as I get to the mails for the day. This morning, however, turned out to be quite depressing!

The top news trending on Google News was about the death of a HUMAN who was left on the roads to bleed to death after being hit by another HUMAN. If that wasn’t enough, a rotten, stinking, lousy mushed tomato of a man actually stole the victim’s phone and made off.

Accident Victim Bleeds To Death On Road In Delhi, Gets His Phone Stolen But No Help

If that wasn’t enough, video grabs showed that the hit-and-run driver did stop his vehicle and alight from it; but only to check the stupid, God-damned vehicle which is totally valueless in comparison to a human life.

And that is not how you want to start your day.

But how I end it is still my choice (well, almost, always. Unless you have some other blighted idiot choosing to trend on the world news). So I choose #Mission500K.

ThinkQuisitive  has collaborated with the Robin Hood Army this Independence Day to feed over 5 million people from India and Pakistan (In your face you country-splitters)!  They require your time and also your money (Let’s be practical, they will require contributions).

For a country hitting global news for leaving men to die alone on the roads, let’s get out on to the roads to feed people living there. And though #RHAKolkata does it every day, for one day let’s be a part of their team and make a difference to our own lives.

I will leave you to choose if you want to end your day better than I started mine. #TQThoughts coming up :

Event Page https://www.facebook.com/events/1257273490950810/

Music Video Link : https://www.facebook.com/robinhoodarmy/videos/1812778005621205

Newspaper article : http://indiatoday.intoday.in/story/vishal-dadlani-farhan-akhtar-uday-benegal-robin-hood-army-india-pakistan/1/735843.html

Graciously Yours!

 

How do I convince Mother that my 23 year old self can have usable shelf decor ideas?

Urgent help needed! Mothers preferred.

So I began putting my shelf decor ideas to Mother the way I actually pitch my ideas to my boss. Small talk first and then when I have judged his mood and inclination to discuss ideas, I slowly, very slowly, push the idea towards him. Obviously, I chip in the ideas like they were always his and that time had been a constraint for him to implement the ideas. And that he was the one who’d inspired me to actually come up with them. It works out fine for me mostly. I tried the same with Mother. It turns out that the small talk I do is extremely boring. She shooed me away. I never reached the second stage.

After a while I decided to be direct and straightforward so I went up to her and said, “It’s my room. It’s my shelf. I want it my way.” The look she gave me was enough to shut me up. I slinked away.

As I write this, I have decided to present my decor ideas to her without throwing my weight around. As if that really mattered much. But what should I say to her? How do I get her to look at my shelf decor ideas without her rejecting them out rightly? How do I convince my Mother that her daughter who otherwise flops around the house, cracks the weirdest of jokes at inopportune moments, cares about her blog like it’s her baby, finds comedy shows boring and suspense thrillers funny has usable decor ideas! Even if they’re as random as this :

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Which they are not. Absolutely not this random. Psst. Aren’t they good though?

Let’s not divert!

Help please. While I go to put on the protective gear, please get your ammunition ready! We need to fire them fast. Or are we going for a truce?

Graciously Yours!

P.S. : Mother, if you are reading this, you’ve obviously read whatever I wrote above. Before you come looking for me, I only want to say :

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Same goes for you, boss!

Pictures Courtesy : Pinterest.

The Angel in You.

 

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Amy had seen that face before. She would recognise it anywhere. The face that had over the years faded away but resurfaced strongly when the appearance became physical. The face had changed Amy’s life. The face that had given Amy a second chance.

The lady wasn’t in her patrolling uniform. Her hair was open and flowing. She had a glittering dress on. Her smile was stunning as she looked at her beau. The eyes were still the same though. Compassionate and empathic.

As Amy sat there in the underground railway, looking at the lady, that night came flashing before her.

The stormy night, the strong currents, the alluring bridge, a broken heart, deserted roads, an emptying wallet, She had been overcome by a strong and sudden bout of depression. Nothing had seemed to be working in her favor. Her parents didn’t say it, but she could see their disappointed eyes. It was worse when they put on unmatched smiles to make her feel better. Her mind gave her so many easier ways out, as she stood under the canopy of the cafe, waiting for the torrential rain to take a break. With not much to do, she felt deserted and lonely like never before. She didn’t want to step out into the rain. But her mind made her limbs move onto the roads from the kerb. She didn’t want to get wet. But she found herself soaked to the bones within seconds. She didn’t want to cross over to the bridge. But she found herself standing at its egde. Precariously. She was afraid — of herself. She wanted someone to stop her. She also knew there was no one around, no ray of hope, no silver lining. Was this the only way? Maybe, this was what was meant to happen. She could feel water rolling down her cheeks. She wasn’t sure if it was tears or drops of the rain water. She looked into the water below. They seemed to be hungry to lap her up, thrashing themselves on the banks impatiently.

Someone jolted her out of her trance, dragging her away by the arms. She seemed like an angel to Amy! The lady only said, “Go home. However bad things might be, you do not deserve this.” Embarrassed and shocked at the recent turn of events, Amy practically remembered fleeing the scene, with that face etched in her memory forever.

 

Without further waste of time, Amy walked up to the lady and said to her, “You saved my life once. And I will be eternally grateful to you.” Puzzled, but understanding that she must have helped her in some way, the lady welcomed the hug Amy gave her.

 

Today, Amy is returning home from work to a loving husband. Her parents are proud of her. She is proud of herself.

 

Graciously Yours!

 

Dare to dream?

For the past few days I have been pacifying myself with these words :

“If your dreams don’t scare you, they’re not big enough”

And I think I have dreamt big. Because my dream is scaring the hell out of me!

My dream wasn’t planned. One fine day, it just happened to become mine! Some one crossed my path and changed my life’s direction or should I say, gave my life direction. I always wanted an assortment of things which I thought would never fit together. But it does. Fit together. And I’ll be happy pursuing that dream.

But. There’s always a but.

I’m taking risks by leaps and bounds. I’m doing what is not obvious. I’m not following the crowd. And I’m refraining from en cashing my recent success. Instead I’m dreaming out of my league. My friends think I’m made for more. My heart says I want more. My brain says it’ll work for more.

Yet some part of me is making me ask you this : should I settle for the ordinary (which will be available to me even two years down the line, though not so easily maybe) or should I try and get into the league of the extraordinary?

Graciously Yours!

P.S. : Remember, I just cleared those exams? This is about what I wanna do after.