Why I Ditched Earphones

I’m a musicaholic. I’m probably exaggerating, but you get the idea; I love listening to music. But then again, who doesn’t, right?

But, I ditch my ear phones — when I walk home.

I’m always plugged in at work — makes it easier to ignore a lot of people; all I have to do is stare at the screen like I’m too involved to talk or hear others talking. Drowns out a lot of disturbances too.

Anyway, I don’t plug in when I’m walking home. No, it’s not like a walk in the park, it’s not peaceful, not quiet and it surely isn’t enjoyable. And no, I don’t have company.

Walking in Chennai streets (during peak hours, with the vehicles racing by honking and blaring their headlight into your eyes) is like walking towards death. Not only in terms of accidents, but there’s the risk of hyper tension — which leads to a more painful death.

When I first started using the iPod, I was so excited to walk with my favourite music ringing in my ears. It was funny, to look at people’s faces as they rush to and from buildings with painful expressions. It was a kind of entertaining to watch them all in mute. Sounds a little evil? Well, the music was only self defence — it greatly improved my mood.

But soon enough, things changed. I saw a lot of girls, all plugged in and walking rigidly. They didn’t seem to be enjoying the music, their faces were filled every emotions but joy. It was odd. Perhaps they were afraid to smile when their favourite song played, scared because poeple would judge — that happens quite often, people are always looking for reasons to make others feel like shit.

And then it happened to me too. I don’t care about what others think of me, it happens to me all the time that I’m used to it now.

It bothered me more that I was getting distracted. I was always plugged in; at work, at the gym, and while walking home, soon after. The result: I had stopped actually listening to the music.

I never wanted that.

My mind was filled with other thoughts — general feelings, conversation replays, dinner, family, work, people, more people and people I hate being around.

Practically everything but the music that played in my ears. That hardly happened before, I used to be able to sit at length without thinking of anything. But the music broke that.

It was freedom — like never before. My earphones drowned the rest of the world, and suddenly reality was gone. I didn’t need to make conscious effort to ignore the world, it was easier to get into my own thoughts.

It mightn’t sound so bad, but it made no sense. I plugged in for the pleasure of music, and suddenly I couldn’t enjoy it. What’s the point?

So I decided to ditch the earphones. Now I can enjoy the music for what it is, and still drift away from reality whenever I want to — without using music as a distraction.

Makes sense?

Friends ended, and I don’t know what to do with my life anymore

That was my first thought. When I started watching the final season of Friends, I could feel the close coming closer. And I wasn’t thrilled.

The last couple of episodes were the hardest, and it didn’t help that they were also extremely funny. I had to literally cover my mouth to stop myself from laughing out loud; my mother was asleep nearby.

Yes, stayed up all night, watching Friends. Not just the nights, that’s how I spent my weekends and even this year’s friendship day.

And I’m not even sorry.

Because I liked it. I loved sitting alone, watching Friends, laughing my head off and scaring other people. I didn’t care, I didn’t have time to. I was too involved – and for the first time in a really long time, I was laughing heartily.

Not just the laughter, but also the thrill, the emotions. I felt myself changing as I watched the show. I started to laugh at my silliness more often. I could see the humor in awkwardness and embarrassment. And it was less painful.

I’m not one to get emotional over movies and drama, but Friends was an exception. Every passing minute of the last few episodes, there was a lump in my throat, something new weighing down heavily. When the climax neared, when all six of them left their keys to Monica’s apartment on the table – that’s when it really hit me. What am I going to do with my life now? It’s like my whole life had been leading to that moment, as if that was the driving force that kept me coming back for more – and now it was over. It was hard to accept. It was an unwelcome change.

And ever since the end, I can’t help reminiscing. The one obviously similarity favourite of the show: Joey Tribiany.

The one who doesn’t share food, makes it obvious and still is lovable.

I love Joey, but Chandler was a close contestant too. I’m a great fan of wit and sarcasm, and Chandler was the perfect embodiment of both. Plus, I could relate to his character in a lot of ways. The skepticism, cynicism, the uncertainty and most important, the fact that he didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life.

The whole show was easy to connect to. That’s probably why it was such a huge hit. But more than anything, the show made a lot of people yearn for such a life, such friends.

Everyone would’ve felt jealous of the Joey-Chandler friendship. Not to mention the special connection Joey had with Phoebe. I was surprisingly moved when Joey asked Phoebe to marry him, when he (falsely) thought she was pregnant. It wasn’t funny, it was heartfelt, and small incidents like this throughout the show showed us how deep Joey was. Not just him, Chandler too – how much he changed through the course of the show. And Rachel – from being a spoiled brat to a responsible?! mother.

Of all life lessons I took from the show, one important thing was that people can always surprise you. Even those you think are least likely to do something that moves you, they do. More times than we may anticipate.

You know what? I think I just figured what I could do now. Im going to Google for image quotes and laugh like a maniac, while others around me go berserk.

The Indian Father

Every fathers’ day, you’ll see posts on Facebook saying how great a dad is. It’s no big deal; it’s just one day. Some people don’t mind just clicking the like button and moving on.

But I do.

Every time I come across a post like that, I feel annoyed. I don’t have any foreign friends, so here’s what my Indian friends post:

The capitalized ‘K’ and the simplified ‘p’ will vary, but — you get the idea. I take one look at these posts, and I’m like, “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Is that supposed to impress your father? I know it won’t impress my father and lot others’ too — from what I’ve seen.

Here’s how a typical Indian, or rather South Indian father would react: “What do you mean ‘I will find my prince?’ Does that mean that the right to choose a good man to take care of you doesn’t rest with us anymore?” — Fathers’ diction sounds awfully funny in a blog post, but that’s how they say it. Particularly when it comes to ‘lifelong commitment.’

OK, I’m no princess, so I’ll leave the prince and king alone. Let’s talk normal daughter’s life and arguments with her father. Here’s a regular day’s conversation.

When I want to go out with my friends, I have two options:

Not tell my father, and feel guilty.
Get his permission and go happily.

Yes, I have to ask him. Even though I’m twenty, my parents are responsible for me until I get married, after which the husband will take over the position. (I know, what a whole load of crap!)

So, here’s me asking for permission.

“Pa, I want to go out with my friends.”

He’ll look up at me, real slow. Our eyes meet. He heaves a sigh, (nope. Not exaggerating) and then asks, “Do you really, absolutely, have to go? Besides, can’t you go on another day? It’s already late…”

By the time he finishes, he thinks that he’s convinced me not to go. And unless you want a big row and a lot of racket that’s bound to wake your neighbours, who will later advise you on how wrong it is to go out with friends after 5, you’d rather cancel the plan. Or just your plan; your friends will still go without you. Never mind that they lied to their parents, never mind that their parents are miraculously not like yours. You’re just not going.

It’s your life. Deal with it.

Here’s the hardest part: you can’t completely blame the fathers. Being a father of a girl isn’t easy. Not in a place like India. You have to take a lot of bullshit, and it’s hard not to conform to society.

Here, we still have a society that considers a girl child as a pain. No, they love to have a daughter. Most people even keep their girl babies nowadays; killing is slowly being forgotten. You’ll even see cases where parents hope for a girl child.

But girls are also an added responsibility. According to our society, a girl brings out the best in a father. He’ll take on responsibilities, and try to prove the differences between a father and a dad.

All these are just what the society expects of a man when he becomes a girl’s father.

The father doesn’t ask for these expectations. Neither does the daughter. But everyone expects that, because that’s what real gentlemen do. They pamper their daughters and help them in life. It starts with homework, goes on to the subject she chooses in high school, and finally ends with the person she marries. That’s how a father should act.

Society laughs at any father who lets his daughter experiment in life, or something like this: “How can you let your daughter go trekking alone with her friends? There’ll be boys, how can you be sure she’s safe?”

That’s enough for anyone to panic, and my father is a simple man. So wherever I go, he needs me to call him back once I’ve safely locked myself inside the house.

Safety is a big issue, and it isn’t just in fathers’ heads. It’s in the news as well. Girls abducted, harassed and raped randomly, throughout the country. No place is safe. Not Delhi, not Bangalore, not Chennai. If metropolitan cities are bad, then there’s no asking what’s going on in small towns and villages.

That’s why fathers are so overprotective. And it just breaches the father-daughter relationship. Any daughter will be disappointed with her father when he deprives her the freedom she deserves. Being a girl, and knowing the outside world isn’t safe enough, is just depressing.

So a father’s next best option would be to get her married off as soon as possible. As much painful as it is, fathers and society look at it as a way of ‘ridding the responsibility of taking care of a girl.’

Society to the aid. Again! “How much dowry can you afford for your daughter?”

Oh yeah, because sending a girl over to your house to serve your family is just isn’t good enough as gold.

A lot of fathers just convince themselves against the dowry argument. “It’s our tradition. Don’t think of it as dowry, think of it as a contingency plan. Your daughter can use this money when she urgently needs it.”

Poor fathers. They just give in to society’s pressures, and end up a disappointment, even to the daughters they gave up so much for.

Any non-Indian fathers out there? Tell us how life’s like for you. I’m curious.

Just Another Day – Just Became Lovely

It’s thanks to Mia, who’s nominated me for the “One Lovely Blog Award.” And I can’t say how surprised I was when I saw that. It lifted my mood.

Things have been going downhill for a while and nothing seemed right. And when you’re sulking around, it’s a pleasure to have something like this happen to you. But I assume news like this, is great to anyone, anytime.

So, without further ranting, the rules of this award:

– Thank the person who nominated you for the award — Check

– Display the One Lovely Blog Award on your blog — Check

– Share 7 things about yourself — Uh oh, this is not my area.

– Nominate 15 bloggers you admire and let them know by commenting on their blog — 15, huh? What do you say we bend the rules? They’re more like guidelines anyway. (Yup. Pirate.)

About me:

I believe my About page should give you a better understanding about myself than this post ever will.
I’m currently re-reading Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, for the 7th time. It’s an all-time favourite.
I own more books than I can read.
Of late, I’ve taken a sudden craving for fruits. Apples and pears in particular. And this comes from someone who used to hate fruits of any kind.
I write a lot of my blog posts when I’m supposed to be working. Like for instance, now.
I love coffee. I’m adventurous about trying out anything that’s coffee flavoured. Hot, cold, cake, chocolate, espresso, sugarless – everything.
I can whistle tunes quite well. (I can’t believe I’ve never mentioned it here before! Thanks again Mia, for giving me a reason to remember it!)

*Bonus: I’m not a fan of hearts, and so I’ve used a non-heart image of the One Lovely Blog Award.

My nominees:

Sam, over at Sammi Talk – It’s been long since I’ve met someone younger than myself impressing me as much as Sam did. She wants to be published before she turns 18. Well, what can I say? All the best!
Louise, over at Life in Poetry – Beautiful. No easier way to say it. Sometimes the best of things are shortly said. Enough said.
Lewis, over at Gosketching – This is the first fully sketching blog I’m following, and I don’t sketch. Lewis’s work impressed me so much that I wanted them in my inbox regularly.
Aadi, over at Snapshots – A beautiful photo blog from an equally good writer. Keep ’em coming Aadi. I’m looking forward for more.
Mohsin, over at Vivid Perceptions – He’s a versatile blogger. He publishes essays, random observations, photos and of course, great poetry.
Liz, over at Verbal Dreaming – Another of those blogs that attracted me because of the name. But it’s just not that; she works words in a unique and enjoyable way.
Alex, over at Cherchez La Lumière – What happens when you meet someone who’s living the life you adore? You follow. Alex travels, photographs and posts them for your pleasure, and a little bit of envy.
Cecilia, over at Fantasy Transcendent – A highly relatable blogger. Her poems gently knock at your memories, making you shout out,”me too!” Also, she has a queer set of characters for her short stories. Always a pleasure to read.
Stuart, over at Story Shucker – I’ve enjoyed Stuart’s stories for a long time. He’s got a large readership, so he might get a lot of nominations like this but I wanted to share this with him as well. Thanks for all those great stories, Stuart.

Why I’m no Planner

If you’re anything like me, you hate planning. You’re not good at it. None of your feeble attempts at planning ever worked, and you’re hanging in the brink of giving up.

Sounds familiar? You’re a lot like me.

Whatever I do, I do. Just dive headfirst into it. Yes, I’ve got hurt a lot of times, but I’ve learnt a lot too. But somehow, I never learnt to plan ahead, and it’s not something I plan on doing.

And by planning, I don’t mean the big stuff. I do that. It’s planning the small, everyday stuff, that puts me off.

Why should we plan anyway? If it’s a trip, I pack my bag the previous night, or rather, I hastily stuff my bag with the necessities before my father sees my packing and planning. Thing is, my father is a huge planner. He needs to know where we’re going, how we’re getting there, and what exactly we’re going to do when we get there.

Sometimes, it’s acceptable. But mostly, I just get annoyed.

Where’s the fun? Oh yes, at the park at 4.00pm, as planned.

I’m definitely not that person. I mean, we can always figure it out on the way, right?

I walk out of the office and onto the street before I check whether I have money for public transport. If I do I take the share auto, otherwise I just walk. It’s that simple. It’s the same with my meals. I don’t care what I eat, until I have to eat. I don’t care about what I’m going to wear to that wedding I might be attending in 3 months’ time. But no, when I told my mother that I might go, she started worrying about what I’d wear. It doesn’t matter. At least not for now.

There’s a kind of unknown beauty in uncertainty. I like embracing it. Not just for the reasons Lifehack expert Kayla says, but also because there’s no point in thinking we’ve got it all covered. Because truth is, we haven’t, and never will.

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