Left Handers – The Eccentricity in the Crowd

Let’s admit it – southpaws are attractive! They look so regal when they pick that pen up to sign a cheque or when they pick up a cricket bat and caress that cover drive. Stand across the court to a certain Rafael Nadal (tennis) or Carolina Marin (badminton) and you’ll know you are headed towards an unchartered territory; a territory that you may not be very well equipped to handle as a right hander. You can almost feel a different wave of energy around them. Hold the left hand of a right handed person and then hold the left hand of a southpaw, you’ll notice a certain enigma about the left hander. It’s like a different, unheard and unfelt mode of communication. The touch of a left hander would say a lot, for the way our body is cross-wired – left hand is connected to the right hemisphere of our brain while the right hand is connected to the left hemisphere. And that’s why left handers think and behave differently than others.

Just to let you in on the purposes of the right and left hemispheres of our brain, the right one, that controls the left hand, is the creative and imaginative side aka the feminine side of our personality while the left one, that controls the right hand, is the logical side associated with the actual brainy and masculine functions. Around 13% of the world population is left handed and most of them are genetically gifted with this trait. It’s very easy to find that left handers are exceptional with activities and sports that require hand-eye coordination and are therefore superb at ball sports. People with a dominant right brain are incredibly creative and visual thinkers as well.

Apart from the aura and intimidation that southpaws carry, they also carry something invisible to eyes of a layman – the agony of using items created purely for the use of right handers. Try and observe the tiny objects of daily use and their placement around us and ask yourself this – how would and should this be for a left hander and where would it be placed correctly for him. It is then it’s realized how different and difficult this world is for southpaws. Fortunately though, people and organizations are becoming aware of this and are working towards making their life a tad bit easier. Websites like The Left Hand Shop are creating and sourcing plethora of daily use items for left handers and making them available in India. Check it out, it’s pretty cool actually.

So next time you see a left hander, don’t bore them by asking the same old question –  “Are you a lefty?” Instead just enjoy their demeanor and feel lucky that you are in esteemed company of a gifted individual.

My Shadow of Doubt

I’m a 125 kg man. 6ft in height. Good enough shoulders and a pot belly. In many a countries I’m overweight and some might argue to make me book 2 tickets just for myself to fly around. Just Kidding – I’m not that fat or am I? Don’t know and don’t care.

I can’t care less about my looks. It’s not a case of a scared and suppressed man who’s heard and hates the word ‘Mota’ (Fatso) way more than his own name during the course of his life. Even if the latter part is true, I believe no amount of ragging, nudging, pushing, or loathing can subdue the inner spirit that says nothing is impossible. This is no delusion. There are times though when I think, what it would take for me to prepare for the inevitable, that last ray of light that gets noticed in my head, the moment I realize that I’m eventually unprepared for the worst. How do you prepare for it? In this dynamic world with all sorts of things loose on the streets that can kill you any second, I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for the last light or the last night.

I may not know the answers to some questions and yet, I believe that they aren’t tough enough to figure out. I’ve seen enough competitive years to know that the times when you are stuck is nature’s way to bring forth the lessons that you may have missed while dealing with the course that nature itself designed for you. I’ve been chubby and to an extent – fat for my age. I was born heavy, lived heavy and am surviving (rather well) heavy. I hate figuring out the measures of my blood or the proteins or carbohydrates. I hate thinking that I am sick. If I ever am, trust me when I say this, the news WILL fall on deaf ears like it always does. I don’t plan to live long. It’s never at the back of my mind. I don’t like and want the funny things that come with some spectacular end. I don’t want money. As long as I survive on my own, I’m glad to have not bothered a soul with my issues. To those whom I’ve already bothered with my existence, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for being there when I truly needed you for without you, my boat wouldn’t have had the wind it needed to set sail.

So whats the point of this post? I know you’ve all heard this message a trillion times before. However, I’m trying. I’m trying to start believing in the figure I see when I look into the mirror. It’s an exercise some of the new souls in my life are having me do. They say acceptance is the key for me. I want to start a new, reinvigorated and stress free journey, one that fulfils my dreams and mine alone. I don’t see anyone becoming a part of this voyage, for I can’t see far. But I believe that if there is a part wherein another soul has to intervene, they will know their purpose and will only add new meaning and colors to it. Everyone has to start somewhere. I refuse to see this world in the way it comes to me. I see a lot of good happening and this shall forever be my endeavor – to see good for that’s what invigorates me. I will go beyond the damning filth that’s always presented first, to find the truth and whether it’s worthwhile to pursue. I will not stress to find what doesn’t concern me.

I will strive to find what’s right for me and will not be lazy. I aspire to create a vibration, a flow of light that truly defines my purpose (yet unknown). I invite the energies that are destined to become a part of me.

I aspire to erase this shadow of doubt that destroys the purity of my form. I’ll follow my gut.

A Cooked Blog

Sometimes I wonder what attracts you more to me,  a love for the unknown? A love for the hatred I have for the world? Curiosity for the time unknown? Unseen acts of horror, unprecedented valor, or kindness?

I feel you touch a piece of me everyday but never whole. The tingle that wakes up my sensations, often leaves my soul wanting for more. I get you one finger pore at a time and with each touch, the yearning for wholeness turns my skin inside out. Why can’t I have you more? Why don’t I get you more?

Can’t blame you though, my readers, for we are all travellers in the same boat. Kids, wife, parents, office, home, horrifying relatives, and time killing neighbors – they consume so much of our time and brain that there’s none left for us to use at the end of the day. Still we are motivated to do what’s right for us – write for ourselves, it’s an obligation to the inner you, isn’t it? You reach the desk at the last hour of the day, pick up your pieces of thoughts and right when you are about to hit the keyboard, you lose power. People with laptops can still work for a while but not desktop users like me. Our day just got pushed into a dark oblivion when there’s no option but to sleep, the thoughts still currying inside, the flavors dying to spill out on to a writing pad or a web page. But luck is having none of it!

I’ve been under such a spell since past 3 months. Everyday is a struggle – to stay awake, concentrate, be healthier, see certain things the way I would a few years ago, keep focus on the future all the while learning from the past and (the one that tops it off) yet, be fun.

My irritability around this time of the year isn’t a new phenomenon. From an early age, I found June, July, August and September – the hardest to deal with. Whether it be my bone crushing accidents, to hysteria among the people around me, diseases – it’s like a kill-switch turns on. People die, there are terrible news all around and concentrating is the last thing my brain does. This is also the time I wish, time should just fly by never concerning me with its nitty-gritty. These are easily the most non-productive months of my year. Do you have any months that particularly seem to concern you – ones that freeze your hands, swell your feet, numb your mind for the world around just picks up its frantic pace and tries to drag you with it?

It is these months though, I expect my dear readers to show me some love and be kind enough to keep this space engaged. And how well you’ve done it, BRAVO! You’ve read and read my stuff, appreciated it, hunted down my errors even when I wasn’t there for you…

You Cooked My Blog“!

And now it’s time for me put some dishes on the front burner and stir the pot to see what comes out next.

Rediscovering The Original

I was lost. I had gleefully claimed to have found light never knowing that even darkness has disguises. It nearly consumed me. My passivity had had it’s versions but this was one of its most glorious forms. I am now very well aware of who I am on the other side. The other side of me is like the other side of Hulk. Hulk has just one motto – SMASH.

My darkness has one motto – HURT! It was a revenge. A revenge on this world for having treated me so bad. And I never could have enough of that revenge. We never can, can we? Sometimes I feel it is so cruel to feel such delight in someones agony caused by your revenge. But this sudden will to hurt others simply drives us to the pit that we thought will accommodate the world. But No. I made a journey down this endless pit I had dug up, this abyss, and back, and I now feel cured. The dark undertones of sound in each ear now make me pity my other self every moment. How weak and pathetic was I?

My blood toxicity reached a peak after 17 years of blithe ignorance towards my body. The marks on my face, the fat under my skin, the cry for attention underneath the happy façade – all have had their moments of crest. In trying to hurt others, I hurt myself so much, pain became the shadow to this darkness, a friend I always called for distraction.

I needn’t look any further than myself to know what pessimism means. Not anymore. As I complete a month of sobriety, the only promise I can make to myself is that the promises I make to myself again, will never feel the need for a call. Action and not words will lay the foundation for my course. Not that I’ll stop writing, rather writing will determine my actions. Actions that make me win each day in some way.

No more shaky start to my days. No more blurred visions and no more dreadful dreams. No slouching, no taking shit from anyone. If you’ve got the guts to try to knock my confidence down, my guts will not hold back either. No more being scapegoat-ed. No more cries for attention. If its my past that encourages my present, so be it. It’s the only book that teaches me. An unforgettable memoir of pain, humiliation, bad tastes in the mouth, knock outs and some love when I least expected it.

Hope

A belief is a strange concept isn’t it? And today’s prompt brings me to an even pivotal question – what do you believe in?

In all the unkindness of life, the only gift I’ve received is a belief in myself. People ask me – “What’s it that pushes you to the write everyday? What’s it that those invisible people give you?”.

My reply is simple – “What, in all your glorious presence, have you ever given me?”.

These answers were hard to come by. I’d rather have withstood the harsh words and satire, sipped on the bitter pills, and slouched into my bed. Not now. I now see hope. I now see acceptance. I now see feedback. I now feel a renewed energy and motivation, not to just run through my days like a dead bat and in the process gain, learn, acknowledge, and foremost converse.

It’s not just an empty drum aimlessly rolling in a desert. This drum is now ploughing its own road. Before I sleep every night, I now make mental notes of the numbers on my blog, the direction in which it is headed and its true purpose. I live in it. The world outside is slowly dying a painful death while the world inside now has little leaves popping out. Clear, green, fresh, and satiating the hunger of a burnt heart.

The boat of hope in my heart is finally afloat!

Taxes

Taxes. We all pay taxes. Taxes are what enable a government to run a country smoothly. They tax us for everything – eating, drinking, driving, living and sometimes even thinking. We’re taxed for everything. Some pay it lump sum while some like me, pay it in pieces through the year so I’m not found begging on the streets for that particular month. For how much I earn, I pay 3 months salary as my tax, not to mention what I pay outside of it in Value Added Taxes and Service Taxes.

Well aforesaid taxes are what we pay to the government so we aren’t declared outcast or aliens on a land that we so deserve to live on, no matter which country or continent. We also pay a few other taxes of which one is the tax of expectation to our society. And we pay it day in and day out. This isn’t monetary – well in some forms it is as well!

Right from the day we’re born, or let’s go further back. Right from the time, parents either decide to have a child or that sperm gets loaded involuntarily, doomed is that little cellular structure. All those sperms that never made it, expected to perform, died trying – they paid their tax for being incompetent in death. But they were lucky for they had a safer death. The one that made it, frankly never got to do that small victory dance! 5 weeks later, after growing enough, it starts receiving medication and attention and is never left alone. Just enough space to survive and thrive in. Outside that tummy though, unknown to that little thing with no brain, are soaring expectations. Sons will make a doctor, daughters will need dowry.

We are and were all doomed to end up the way we have. Only a few escape the clutches of their parents, only to end up getting caught in the frenzy called OUTSIDE WORLD! The rest pay taxes like me. We’re salaried/businessmen/doctors/artists. That little brain of ours works day in and day out to earn a living. We’re shown the door for being ourselves. We’re influenced, lack originality, and life as I see around us, sucks beyond belief. Mine does. No other example is good enough.

Next we’re married, expected, not to find our true love, but to give the parents a child that can carry the family name. Some of us find that true love, while some unlucky ones get caught out at the hands of vicious wives and husbands. These other halves tend to have their own expectations that are levied without permission upon those super-burdened shoulders. They want your money, your social status, hold no interest in your parents, and love remains unheard of.

Every single moment of our life is built from expectations. Your own and others too. You want to do well all the time. Who wants failures, for failures are rejected. Expectation though means fear. We keep fearing for our destiny and forget to live our life, the only thing that’s in true sense perishable. I’ve done this for 30 years everyday and every single minute and find it extremely tough to pull out that magical moment from a work day, to pull out of this vicious loop that I’ve gotten into.

And so I write. I write to vent it all out. But watching all of those who wish to earn through writing, I am tempted everyday. I want to raise my expectations from my blog. I want to raise my expectations from a solitary talent called writing. I want to do this everyday and every minute. But am I good enough? I fear for my destiny. I fear the unknown. I fear that I may lose all that I possess. My possessions matter. They’re there from sheer hard work. Day in and day out of doing something I hate from the core of my heart. Nothing I do during my day makes any sense. There is no satisfaction.

I want to earn more money. I want to rise higher. I want to see the world. I want peace. I want no expectations. But how do I say it – I can never rid myself from temptations, for I’m human. I’ll fall and rise. And it’s my expectations from my life, that make me brave these everyday storms to remain standing tall and writing about them, talking about them, and sometimes even laughing about them.

The only way I see that I can escape expectations is to let go – let go off the people who hold us back. Let go off the material that binds us to temptation. I may attain peace, but then isn’t even peace an expectation? Isn’t peace taxed?

P.S. – This is the hardest prompt I’ve ever tried! I can really go on and on about it, like write series but it may get so depressing that you won’t read beyond the second half of the second edition itself.

Zee2Etch201 – Set Blogging Goals

For those of you, who are new to knowing me, I did all my Zero to Hero challenges earlier by renaming them to Zee2Etch challenges.

I’m lagging in April’s Zero to Hero Challenge by 5 days. Task for day 1 asks me to list a few goals for this blog and how I’d want to go about it in future.

Ummm… giving it a serious thought, I can come up with a few goals that I can genuinely work towards. Meeting those goals is only secondary but the attempts will be genuine. Here they are –

1. Reach 2000 followers by December.

2. Try to make inroads into other social networks as well.

3. Make at least 2 weekly features regularly.

4. Expand my genre of writing. Try to enter fiction and nonfiction equally.

5. Try to have at least 100 regular readers by December.

Lets see how it goes! Shower your blessings people for I’ll need them all! 😀

Do you like the look of the new Daily Post?

This is my attempt towards something that stands destroyed because a user like me is unheard!

 

Alone I’m Lost

Definition of a Pulsar –

a degenerate neutron star; small and extremely dense; rotates very fast and emits regular pulses of polarized radiation

You know how most of us need a certain accessory to make us look that tad bit good. That bit that adds that spark which defines your spirit and your style. An unrelenting force, that keeps coming to you to give you more. It belongs to you. And that’s what eventually outshines the rest of the ‘dull’ you!

Well, standing alone I’d look like a bum and this is certainly not the first time I’m confessing to this fact on my blog! Shabby clothing and dirty shoes often define my appearance. I don’t care for my looks and it quite literally shows. Deep inside I think I am a stud when I’m more visibly, an elephant with a punctured ass.

It’s when I’m not walking though, that I’m seated on a beast. A beast that deserves the credit for carrying high hopes, dreams, responsibilities, weight of a man that nearly matches it’s own, and it does it EVERYDAY. Yes, that’s MY PULSAR.

DSC00014_edited

Now how does my Pulsar justify the actual definition –

Degenerate

Hell yeah! Just like me… gives me ideas as crazy as I am… goes as fast as it can and slow when it wants… just lets me handle it like the stallion ‘Spirit’ from the animated movie (nothing degenerate about the movie though)!

Small and extremely dense

It’s pretty small compared to other larger monsters in the market all while it eagerly dishes the same pace as most will on any given day!

Rotates very fast and emits regular pulses of polarized radiation

Told you its way damn fast for most to handle. Regarding the radiation part, I tend to compare it with the jealousy it instills in a thousand hearts every day – “Awhh hows that elephant riding so fast?” “What. Is. That. Mean. Machine!” “Hey mechanic, can I have the sound of my bike changed to how this one sounds (pointing to mine)”!

It has the same sense of direction as I do. It has love. It makes a bit of noise but only to disturb the inattentive. It honks angrily and loud like no other, just like I do when I’m angry! It’s sexy. It looks just one way and that’s forward. Without it, I’m lost!

And here’s to the shittiest part of the new and improved Daily Post, the best one that the brilliant techie minds of Daily Post on WordPress have thrown at us, THE PINGBACKS (GRID VERSION)that are in no way the pingbacks of the old –

http://thebohemianrockstarpresents.wordpress.com/2014/04/15/daily-prompt-you-sexy-thing/

http://raraness.wordpress.com/2014/04/15/confident-in-monochrome/

http://bonuminlibero.wordpress.com/2014/04/15/on-confidence-and-clothing/

http://kansamuse.me/2014/04/15/decent-outfit/

http://melissuhhsmiles.wordpress.com/2014/04/15/meaningsa-to-z-day-13/

http://criticaldispatches.com/2014/04/12/giving-life-the-runaround/

http://www.pghlesbian.com/2014/04/ever-wish-you-had-a-fashionista-godmother/

http://graceholden.wordpress.com/2014/04/15/250/

http://eastelmhurstagogo.wordpress.com/2014/04/15/every-girls-crazy-bout-a-sharp-dressed-man/

http://tony1577.wordpress.com/2014/04/15/the-only-thing-that-looks-good-on-me-is/

http://fibijeeves.wordpress.com/2014/04/15/daily-prompt-1950s-pirate-chic/

http://abozdar.wordpress.com/2014/04/11/extremely-handsome/

http://rolbos.wordpress.com/2014/04/15/daily-prompt-french-lingerie-will-get-her-there/

http://thepigmentsoflife.wordpress.com/2014/04/15/you-sexy-you/

http://purplesus.wordpress.com/2014/04/16/you-sexy-thing/

http://wisskko.wordpress.com/2014/04/15/choose-one-color-which-you-like-the-best-and-explain-why/

http://abozdar.wordpress.com/2014/04/14/advice/

http://hopethehappyhugger.wordpress.com/2014/04/15/hair-hair-hair-hair/

http://charronschatter.com/2014/04/15/nayfare/

http://myjourneyeveryday.wordpress.com/2014/04/15/daily-prompt-you-sexy-thing/

http://knowledgeaddiction.wordpress.com/2014/02/20/new-sensation/

http://psychologistmimi.com/2014/04/15/wait-did-i-wear-this-dress-yesterday/

http://angloswiss-chronicles.com/2014/04/15/daily-prompt-you-sexy-thing/

http://frncnseal585.wordpress.com/2014/04/15/you-sexy-thing/

http://kate0murray.wordpress.com/2014/04/15/sexy/

http://ambikarani.wordpress.com/2014/04/15/sexy-srk/

http://bobbeck1600.wordpress.com/2014/04/15/you-sexy-thing/

http://morrighansmuse.com/2014/04/15/you-sexy-thing-you/

http://brokenlightcollective.wordpress.com/2014/04/15/ascension/

http://averildean.wordpress.com/2014/04/15/watercolor/

http://lifebeinggirly.com/2014/04/15/you-sexy-thing/

http://arakawafiction.wordpress.com/2014/04/15/napowrimo-day-15-victorian-praise/

http://breakingbadness.wordpress.com/2014/04/16/being-sexy/

P.S. – This is the (pardon me for I’m going to use the word again) shittiest and the ugliest (if shits weren’t that ugly for someone) part of the new and improved Daily Post. I want to ask everyone to please plead to Daily Post people to bring back the list of pingbacks links that were so easy to copy and paste than having to copy and paste each and every link from that GRID list that they’re apparently very proud of. I’ve left 2 comments in their comments section that they haven’t bothered to let past moderation, when they are nothing but a bit hard requests to bring back the pingback lists and keep the grid as well. I’m writing this as this is very de-motivating for some reasons that I’d rather not talk about.

I Smell People-ish

My dad arrived home today. He’s come to say goodbye to the sixth member of our family who leaves for US tomorrow! Sounds so hunky dory, doesn’t it?

But, I killed it for myself. I’m running low on cash these days, for a lot of travelling and health bills were torn against my name this month. So instead of taking the more expensive option of auto rickshaw, I decided to use the Delhi Metro to reach the New Delhi railway station and help dad deal with the luggage that he was carrying. Well it wasn’t as heavy as I’d expected but it sure was difficult bringing it up to the 2nd floor of my house.

So, DELHI METRO! The pride and joy of Delhi. The only project in India that’s actually making profit. The guys worked really hard and it shows. Terrific infrastructure and great maintenance. Something though, didn’t feel very right yesterday. As I gathered myself from slumber, and walked to the platform, there were huge groups of people waiting to board the metro. Something was wrong!

The metro arrived packed to its capacity and yet around 20 of us managed to find a place to stand with people’s armpits on my nose and my armpits on someone elses and what not! Ugghhhh!

Now to make matters worse, there are close to 15 metro stations between the station that I boarded and the New Delhi railway station. Each time the door opened for passengers, when 2 left, 4 boarded. I had my headphones plugged in though and people weren’t really bothering me, just that I knew how I’d smell like after I got down from the train. People inside just kept making space out of nowhere and people from outside kept boarding till the last inches were used up. And then some more came in!

cwg-metro

Then a scuffle stirred up. A police constable standing right in front of me and next to the door, tried to stop passengers from getting in, for there was absolutely no space left in the coach. The counter argument from the outside was – “You get down as you are the public servant” and they started pulling out the constable nearly tearing off the sleeves from his shirt. The constable though had nowhere to go, for he was stuck inside just like all of us were, and so they even couldn’t pull him out, such was the agony we were all going through!

To be honest, I was enjoying this. This misery that people decide to put themselves through everyday, made me feel proud of what I had achieved in life and how my resolution to never put up with this kind of life always put me in a better place. I made a resolution very early in my struggling days that I’ll never use public transport for two reasons –

1. Those places are very vulnerable and I have too much to do in life than die in an accident or a bomb blast.

2. They are very risky, for Indians in general treat public transport like the transport system owes them something once they’ve paid for the ticket. What they don’t think of is, these are the same buses and trains they may need to take everyday for the rest of their freaking lives, and they are all responsible for its upkeep and smooth operations. But once they stop respecting the means, the means stop respecting them and so they start crumbling, till they are at the point of breaking and that’s when public transport becomes a danger. Case in point, was the taxi that we boarded, once my family members had arrived. That taxi sounded awful and when it started to move, I felt the wheels coming off every time we made a left turn!

Now back to the Metro. We were about to reach the largest station among all metro stations – Rajiv Chowk. Rumors started flying that the train will be half empty by the time we leave this station, and sadly ALL the passengers along with me were eagerly waiting for this miracle to happen, quite badly! And like all stories that don’t have a happy ending, luck didn’t favor me this time! No one got down and still some more found a way to get in. The next station was where I was to unboard. This was real tricky. For once in my life, I had to handle people subtly and that I did. I started cracking mean jokes that made people laugh and in between, I’d ask them to make some space to let me reach the door, so I don’t miss my drop station caught up in this hell hole. And I made it, just not on my feet though. The moment the door opened, I (125 kgs) was picked up in the air and helped down right next to a pillar. I have absolutely no freaking clue how or what happened. I just counted my lucky stars for the night, checked my wallet and my watch, and started to walk to the railway station.

This was one hell of a ride, and I’m never travelling in a Metro again.  what’s tha God awful smell? Wait, I smelled  ‘PEOPLE-ISH’!

Bed Talks

What an apt day for this prompt! I was looking to vent out something that happened last night and here cometh the daily prompt!

Wifey left again to visit her parents and her in-laws (my parents) today. I’m alone for next 15 days again but we had a bedtime conversation going after a long time yesterday. Ever since she returned, she was puzzled by my new found love for writing. Actually she’s right to feel this way as nothing comes so easy to me. I procrastinate to levels not known to ordinary humans. I put things off simply because I don’t feel my toes are working perfectly (just a case in point).

We went out to dinner the night she returned, I bought her gifts and we started talking about her experience and when she paused for water, mine too! She had apparently been following my blog from where she was, had grown a bit fond of it. Not delving into how she fared during her vacation, I can tell you what she told me about the results of my break – “You’ve really chilled. You don’t look frazzled. There’s a calmness over you which is helping me wind down too!”.

Then last night, she told me about a demon that she’s been feeding for last 27 years. And I’m thinking how the hell did I miss this about her? Then again, life hasn’t been all hunky dory lately so missing a detail isn’t that big an issue for both of us! She told me how, she has always wanted to emulate a colonel friend of her grand father whom she met when she was just 3. She met him only 3-4 times but considered him as more of her grand father than her actual one (this must really hurt a soul I tell you) and all because he taught her how to carry herself and how to talk to others and things most parents miss these days (ironically her parents missed it too).

Now how does all this relate to today’s prompt? An artist, per me, is someone who elicits responses untold to many a soul themselves. He puts out something that prompts others to empty their own souls when all the while he is himself just emptying his own. Am I an artist?I’m no artist. For I’m no writer (I’m trying to be but am far far away from it), I’m no singer, I’m no player but yet I could, with my demeanor, elicit a response, a thought from my soul mate that she was prepared to hide until told otherwise. I felt proud. I had never had such a deep discussion with her, and she didn’t mind not sleeping at all last night, for she felt light!

Yes, writing is my art, not perfect yet but it’ll do till I can keep my soul mate honest and open with me. I can now see why she always pushed me to get into a different line along with my current industry. Something creative that brought out the good in me. She told me, the way I am today, I can never get someone to like me even if I wanted it the hardest. They’ll never understand me for I’ve built a fort around me and I don’t let anyone in. Trust me people – she’s made her way in already, she just doesn’t know it yet!

Let’s find out the arts of others –

  1. Freedom in a pen | MC’s Whispers
  2. YouTube Clips: Daily Prompt | ALIEN AURA’S BLOG: IT’LL BLOW YOUR MIND!
  3. Jamming | Knowledge Addiction
  4. Daily Prompt: Express Yourself! | The WordPress C(h)ronicle
  5. The Match (Part 5) 40 Acres | The Jittery Goat
  6. Singing All The Way | Knowledge Addiction
  7. DP Daily Prompt: Express Yourself! | Sabethville
  8. Write to Heal | From Hiding to Blogging
  9. Xi’an, the Place with Enriched Stories | From Hiding to Blogging
  10. Taipei – a Mesmerizing City | From Hiding to Blogging
  11. Broken Dreams? | Tale of Two Tomatoes
  12. Daily prompt – Express yourself! | myjourneyeveryday
  13. Daily Prompt: Express Yourself! | benjaminsolak
  14. Bed Talks | Views Splash!
  15. The Creator God and His Gift to Us | meanderedwanderings
  16. Express Yourself | Dragon Droppings
  17. Express Yourself | Lisa’s Kansa Muse
  18. Daily Prompt: Express Yourself-Is it Children’s Obligation to Take Care of Their Parents? | Journeyman
  19. I teach! | Purplesus’ Blog
  20. Quadruple Threat [Intimate Sessions] | She Writes
  21. [M.M.X.I.V. 95] The dancing feet | Never A Worry
  22. Daily Prompt: Express Yourself! | tnkerr-Writing Prompts and Practice
  23. Building Blocks of a Project | Photography Journal Blog
  24. More than an Expression…an Extension of Me | snapshotsofawanderingheart
  25. E Is For Expressing Yourself | My Little Avalon
  26. My Games… | from dusk to dawn….
  27. Creativity in pranks, viruses and retaliation: This week’s weird and wacky news « psychologistmimi
  28. Reach High | Flowers and Breezes
  29. Freedom In Expression | Coffee With Jesus
  30. Daily Prompt: Express Yourself! | seikaiha’s blah-blah-blah
  31. DAILY PROMPT: Express Yourself | Melissa Holden
  32. My dog doesn’t see the point of leg weaves |
  33. 8 things I have to say about debate | Never Stationary
  34. A Small Guest With a Box of Sweets | wisskko’s blog
  35. Daily Prompt: Express Yourself! | thechangingpalette
  36. Daily Prompt: Express Yourself! | I Just Like Doing Them | Shawn Daily
  37. Daily Prompt: Express Yourself | Chronicles of an Anglo Swiss
  38. Sunset Over India | Broken Light: A Photography Collective
  39. Daily Prompt Express Yourself : Joy | Angela McCauley
  40. Please Don’t Call Me A Writer
  41. Daily Prompt: Express Yourself | Words4jp’s Blog
  42. Therapy | In the Present
  43. Daily Prompt: Express Yourself | That Montreal Girl
  44. Daily Prompt: Express yourself | A cup of noodle soup
  45. Express Yourself | Kimmiecode
  46. Daily prompt: Express yourself! | Go, See, Live
  47. Express Yourself | The Land Slide Photography
  48. you keep me at varying | y
  49. No Such Thing as Self-Expression | Author Laura Lee
  50. Comin’ Through the Rye | Speculative Paradigm Shifts
  51. Ex-press-ion | I’m a Writer, Yes I Am
  52. Daily Prompt: Express Yourself | gracenorcott
  53. my purpose | peacefulblessedstar
  54. Persuing Perfection | The Ravenously Disappearing Woman
  55. Poetry that doesn’t challenge my brain | The Salmon Yatra
  56. One’s Creative Expression | Cats, Coffee, And Life At Random
  57. Creative me | Emovere

The Greatest Rescue Act

I’ve had the best day of the past 7 years. They’ve been rough. They’ve degraded my mind, my thinking, and my personality. They’ve killed a lot of my ambitions and some of my body parts too (not that one though, don’t think dirty)!

But 14th of March 2014 will forever embolden me. Today, after a real struggle lasting 4 years, is the day I finally break into the Indian financial market again. Finally the credit bureau CIBIL recognized my credit worthiness. Finally my buying power soars – again.

I’ve made mistakes, but no more. I’m smarter and I’ll behave smarter. My decisions will now make an impact on the lives of all my favorite people – for better!

This incidentally is also the day when two of the greatest Indian batsmen Rahul Dravid and VVS Laxman broke the 15 test match Australian winning streak in 2001 in Kolkata. That was one of the greatest rescue acts ever in test cricket. It was day 4 when they batted through the day and not only saved the match for India but led them to a 171 run victory!

This day now has now witnessed two such acts – one saved a test match in cricket and the other saved a test match of life.

Bill Off the Street

A few days ago Mr. Bill Gates said that he would still pick up the 10 dollar bill off from the street. Ok! My question for all of you is –

Who is better – the man who picks up that bill but knows he shouldn’t have, for he’d be stealing or the man who doesn’t pick it up fearing he’d be caught stealing?

I say there is a third person who’s most correct – a man who either picks up the bill or doesn’t but does it being himself. He never pretends to the world who he isn’t. The other two are masked men, who’d pounce upon every single opportunity when they get them, but the third never betrays his conscience. He remains true whether he is correct or otherwise.

The first man who does pick up the bill, may not want to kill anyone or do any harm. Whereas the man who doesn’t pick up the bill, could be a fraudster or someone who loves living inside a blanket!

Do let me know what you think about this discussion.

Indian Bloggers

I’m perplexed. A year and half into my journey at WordPress, I am yet to understand, why can’t I and how do I engage Indian readers?

I am sure, my efforts to engage them may surely have lagged and so except for a select few, none have continued their journey with me. I keep asking myself, why don’t I reconcile better with my fellow countrymen? Anyone who would want to simplify my situation?

I Wanna Live Again

The only thing that today’s daily prompt reminded me off was my brother’s first ever composition!

It came after 4 years in college and rigorous guitar practice. Trust me, I was his roommate and heard a lot of his jittery ting-tings and tung-tungs!

I was in awe the first time he sung it for us! He sang well and played well too but this was a total surprise!

Give it up for Salil Mishra – I Wanna Live Again!

Please pardon us for poor sound quality – it’s a recording but lyrics come from his heart!

Just for the traditions though, a tradition we have started to follow is sing our hearts, lungs and throats out when him and his guitar are playing! Family thing – we think we are helluva singers!

Lets see how others are impressing us –

  1. Henna | Perspectives on life, universe and everything
  2. Ballerina | Perspectives on life, universe and everything
  3. Daily Prompt: Time After Time- Psychology: Introduction to self esteem | Journeyman
  4. Daily Prompt: Time After Time | Saleh Elgherbawi
  5. One Crazy Mom » What Keeps My Week Going
  6. Do more walking | The Bliss of Reality
  7. DP Daily Prompt: Time after Time | Sabethville
  8. Growing Up | The Jittery Goat
  9. Daily Prompt: Time After Time: #Coffee #Ritual | Of Glass & Paper
  10. chocolate | yi-ching lin photography
  11. we gather today | y
  12. Daily Prompt: Time After Time | tnkerr-Writing Prompts and Practice
  13. A sweet memory of the past | Attempted Human Relations and Self
  14. The One Hit Wonder | the intrinsickness
  15. Sex appeal? Clumsy oafess? Time after Time… | ALIEN AURA’S BlOG: IT’LL BLOW YOUR MIND!
  16. Kiss me, I’m Irish: a San Francisco tradition | Suddenly Single in Marin
  17. A book review for World Book Day | Sue’s Trifles
  18. As traditions go, this one isn’t bad. Bit costly though… | thoughtsofrkh
  19. DAILY PROMPT: Ritual | cockatooscreeching
  20. Family. Rituals. War. | daggyshog tales
  21. Ritual « Shrine of Hecate – Ramblings of a New Age Witch
  22. You know Gail Baker down the road? | The verbal hedge
  23. A twisted family tradition | A picture is worth 1000 words
  24. Daily Prompt: Time After Time | My Other Blog
  25. The More Things Change… | My Author-itis
  26. Daily Prompt – Time After Time. |
  27. It’s spelled ‘Crucian’. | Asta’s Space
  28. Minutely Infinite | Traditionally Speaking
  29. The beauty of a fitness routine versus having a joint-eater to be thin « psychologistmimi
  30. Family Vocabulary: Traditions! | ALIEN AURA’S BlOG: IT’LL BLOW YOUR MIND!
  31. Corn, Onions and Christianity | meanderedwanderings
  32. Daily Prompt: Time After Time « Mama Bear Musings
  33. Daily Prompt: Time After Time | Chronicles of an Anglo Swiss
  34. S. Thomas Summers: Writing with Some Ink and a Hammer | On Our Fears its Soul Shall Feast
  35. Time After Time | The Nameless One
  36. I didn’t listen, what’s your excuse? | meg lago
  37. Time After Time | The Story of a Guy
  38. I [heart] Hotpot Dinners | Beez Giftz
  39. Time After Time Traditions Live | Lisa’s Kansa Muse
  40. time after time | klstar2000
  41. My secret photography ritual. | What Katy Thought.
  42. A Tradition That Kept Us Still Standing | Navigate
  43. Birthday Traditions | Cancer Isn’t Pink
  44. Burn-Out | Green Embers
  45. Time After Time | Lead us from the Unreal to the Real
  46. Life’s Rituals: MissShy Gets Engaged | Ana Linden
  47. A Sunday Paratha | Flowers and Breezes
  48. “Time After Time” | Relax
  49. Daily Prompt: Time After Time | Raspberry’s Daydreams
  50. OSCAR ISN’T SACRED BUT WE WATCH ANYHOW | SERENDIPITY
  51. Year after year. | stilldaddyslittlegirl
  52. The Good Tradition Of Eurovision… | Steve Says…
  53. Birthday Tradition | Margaux’s Blog
  54. 65/365 ritual | @vannilla
  55. of small delights | Anawnimiss
  56. Awake at night | anonim0us
  57. Awake at night | anonim0us
  58. Traditions, start a good one. | Emotional Fitness
  59. A different kind of Christmas Tree (Daily Prompt: “Time After Time, Show Us Ritual”) | Photo0pal Photography
  60. Spot Me Bro! – A Daily Tradition | Lifestyle | WANGSGARD
  61. Weekly Reprieve from the Pattern of Life | snapshotsofawanderingheart
  62. Family Traditions | A mom’s blog
  63. Time After Time: Daily Post | Destino
  64. Traditions? Can’t think of any! | djgarcia94
  65. I am a writing rock band that only wants green m&m’s. ONLY GREEN ONES! | The Bohemian Rock Star’s “Untitled Project”
  66. Mom’s Sweet Banana Cream Pie | Late Bloomer Liz
  67. Daily Prompt: Being Traditional! | All Things Cute and Beautiful
  68. Traditions | Emovere
  69. Daily Prompt: Time After Time – Family Events | MetaRead360 Small Press presents
  70. Lesbian Traditions
  71. Continuity | La Gatita Oscura
  72. Traditions? Not Really | Cats, Coffee, And Life At Random
  73. Daily Prompt: Ritual | An American in Norway, a Citizen of the World
  74. Daily Prompt: Ritual | An American in Norway, a Citizen of the World
  75. Daily Prompt: Ritual (Nonet) | Morrighan’s Muse
  76. Time After Time: Ritual | Khana’s Web
  77. Around the table | 2 times pink
  78. Daily Prompt: Time After Time | Basically Beyond Basic
  79. Blind | Among the Whispers
  80. Daily Prompt: Time After Time|Unbreakable bond | viCKaakin
  81. Day 65… Daily Prompt: Time After Time | Dear Blog ’14
  82. Beauty in Brokenness | Broken Light: A Photography Collective
  83. Daily Prompt: Tradition | SCATTERBRAIN
  84. The Family Rosary | The Salmon Yatra
  85. Daily Prompt 03062014: Time After Time | Annie, are you OK?
  86. Tradition… | Kate Murray
  87. When Parades go wrong. | Trucker Turning Write
  88. Ritual | U Be Cute – Follow the child inside of you…
  89. Suicide no. 33: “Suicide no. 33″ | derekalanwilkinson
  90. I Love You | Real Momma Ramblings
  91. Ritual | The Land Slide Photography
  92. Getting to the Starting Line | Recovery Miles
  93. Valentine’s Play Date, You’re Mine | Uncovered
  94. Birthday Cake Tradition | 365 Days of Thank You
  95. afterwards, we lie | y
  96. Daily Prompt: Rituals | Lady K’s Lounge
  97. we gather behind | y
  98. Daily Prompt: Time After Time | Bowl of Rice
  99. A Different Kind of Light | Wiley’s Wisdom

Republish

Has anybody ever redid their own articles they felt they could have done better? I’d like to gain some pointers on it.

I’m making a list of some posts that I’ll try to enliven using the lessons that I learn from the book “The Elements Of Style” by Strunk and White. I really want to check out, how that book helps me and my overall writing persona.

Quite excited! 😀