Goodbye, 2016. You will be (50%) missed.

Aaaaand, another year has come to an end. WAIT. You must be wondering, where did I suddenly disappear and appear from? Which rock have I been living under since May 2016? And without even being polite enough to greet y’all properly and apologize at the very beginning of this blog post-shame! Well, I lost my flow of writing for a long time- 7 months, to be precise. I felt like my ability to make something, anything out of words had run its course. Get it- flow, run its course? Not lame at all- pointing out your own sad pun. It looks like my rambling mode has set in, but let me quell that. (at the very best, for a bit)

This is yet another clichéd blog post, talking about what 2016 meant to each one of us. (yada, yada…yawn much) But this is the internet, and I can type out the most trivial details of my life here. It is like I am completely oblivious to someone falling face first onto their desk, due to my life’s sheer mundanity. But I may as well get on, just to give as brief a recap as I can about what 2016 was all about in my life. And, I present it to you with a drumroll-

1. I got married!

Nope, not some fail clickbait that I aim at by typing the above sentence. Remember how in one of my previous blog posts, I had mentioned I was engaged to a wonderful man? Well, I am married to the one and only, Mr A! Over our long one year and few days of courtship, we met only for about 5 days roughly. Yep, 5 frikkin’ days ONLY. Because, we were in a long distance relationship back then. Heck, this time last year, I was all excited about getting engaged. And now, I am a married woman!

Our marriage was amazing. Every single thing about it- the food, the covert glances Mr A and I exchanged throughout, the company of my super-duper-fantastic cousins, the impromptu entertainment staged during 26^th evening for us, the moment when Mr A tied the thali around my neck, all the relatives having a good time, the candylicious candidness of those two days- everything added up so beautifully. It is like a montage of memories that I will never forget. And a special mention to my aunts and sisters who helped me get decked up- it was no easy job to truss me in a madisar, yo!

What do I have to say about our married life so far? It is pretty awesome. I mean, we have faced our ups and downs like every other couple does. We still do have our arguments, but we have both agreed on two major pointers to stand by- compromise and immediately resolving the issue at hand. Mr A and I got married on November 27 last year, so you can calculate and see how many days have passed since. Right now, we are based in Seattle. I am typing this entire blog post in the middle of a skin-drying, teeth-chattering and 10 gazillion sweaters-layered (poor exaggeration skills) winter. But hey, its all good. Life is good, so to say. (OK don’t sue me for that one, LG)

Now, how would I describe Mr A? I can only think of saying it this way- I see glimpses of myself in him. He gets my totally normal approach towards talking cats, eating-10-cookies-at-a-time attitude and my laidback (NOT) tendency towards grammatical errors. We get along like the whipped cream on hot chocolate which we had during one cold wintry day for breakfast. (calorie-loaded DELISH drink zomg)

2. Tutoring tales

Oh, how very productive of me. I did work as a content writer for about 3 months towards the first half of the year. But then I quit and did try searching for another job. I didn’t land a full-time one, but instead ended up as a tutor. I taught English and French for two sixth grade/standard students, who were twins. I taught them for about 4 months, a lesson in learning again for myself too! I am shameless in admitting this, but I had totally forgotten the basics of French, a language for which I had won a college award. (Low-key bragging) It was wonderfully weird for my brain to revisit that part of my education again. I had fun teaching the twins too, because we shared some good talking and fun hangman games. I had a taste of what it almost felt like when I was twelve years old.

3. I actually danced in front of a crowd

So, my sister D (she is technically my cousin, but she is much closer to me than that) got married in September 2016. Her wedding took place at Courtallam, and it was one of the high points of last year for me. The venue was beautiful, the events were fun filled and the best part was seeing my sister getting hitched to a very nice guy. (shout out to him, if he is reading this) Okay, so where’s the dancing bit where I looked like a sweaty loon dancing under the evening lights? Well, here’s how it happened. A bunch of us were prepping a dance routine for a few weeks for the Sangeet function. Out of all the musical numbers, I skipped one. But give it my full life I did. While dancing, that is. (Sounded like a martyr there for a minute. LOL.) I thrashed, I flailed and made a glorious mess of it (in my head). But I had a blast doing it. The crowd even asked for an encore (not for me though, pshhhh), and we all danced all over again. I looked like a nodding dog while dancing, but well, it was my first public choreographed routine and I loved it.

4. I got off Facebook and Instagram

Social media had me hooked, and I was getting sucked in as if I was in a quicksand. I was posting photos on Instagram regularly and even basing my worthiness based on how many likes my Facebook profile pictures got. Gosh, I don’t ever like the feeling of being controlled by anyone or anything. And so, I pulled the reins. I swore off the two humbugs in September, and I must say, life is a lot better. Its much more peaceful for me, personally speaking, as I can enjoy my trivialities with all my privacy intact. The only crowds who were privy to those enjoyable moments in the process were/will be the people accompanying me. (Looks like it’s going to be the husband-man doing that for a long, long time)

Well, that’s all that really took center stage in my life last year. What did y’all expect, a Bollywood movie? Expect an absence for a long period to follow after this post is uploaded. Because if you’ve been through my blog, you’ll know that I hibernate. And then, I appear out of nowhere. *Poof*

I took the 21 day 'no junk food' challenge. And here's what happened!

WARNING: A blog post the length and breadth of a mini-island ahead. Please resist the urge to not hiss or throw slippers the next time you spot me. 

Hi guys!

I apologize for being the erratic blogger that I am, and for not writing rambling posts and annoying you guys regularly. I blame this on my boring but content life, since I don't really go out too often or have a large circle of friends. (I like it that way) Before I launch straight into this blog post, I am excited to tell you something else not related to this topic- I voted for the first time today! I almost felt like a responsible citizen today, and I urge y'all to cast your vote too (if its too late, please do vote in 2021). Pushing past that small ramble, I wanna give you guys a brief background of my weight loss before I talk about the 21 day no junk food challenge.

A peek into my 'heavy' past

I love food, and by that I mean eating it for the most part (a rookie cook). Those who know me from since childhood, during school and college, and even since I started working 2 years back are well aware of my weight loss journey. I even wrote about it previously but in brief. I can rehash it here again, if you aren't yawning already- I was overweight from 7th grade in school till the third and last year of my under graduate degree. I used to wear XXL, eat a shitload of unhealthy food and never exercise (okay, maybe I did go for a 30 minute walk once in a month). 

This was me in 2012, during a college fest.

I was aware that I was carrying extra flesh that jiggled when I walked a few steps faster, and found it difficult to procure nice clothes because of my rotundness. You know, the cliched weight loss horror story done to death, and I lived it for about 9 years roughly. I know a lot of people who are comfortable in their body, no matter what their size or weight is. But I was and still am not one of them, and I never will be. 

My moment of 'enlightenment' snuck up on me in September 2013, when I realized an uncomfortable truth- I would never get over my self-consciousness unless I lost all the stubborn, unnecessary fat in my body. I term it uncomfortable because it is not body positive and sounds so superficial. But I will admit it all the same because that is exactly what I felt and won't hide behind some weak excuse. It was my belief that by becoming fitter and thinner, I would radiate confidence. So what exactly did I do to lose weight, you wonder.

• I adopted and then adapted myself to a different lifestyle. I did not stop eating cookies, chips, ice cream and other forbidden edibles just because I wanted to lose weight. I just started making calculations in my mind, living in the obsessive world of calorie counting for roughly a year. I allotted myself 1200 calories per day, eating 70% nutritious, home cooked food and 30% forbidden 'treats'. An example- I would eat a bar of chocolate only if it had less than 250 calories. 
• I used to rope in a wee bit of exercise, roughly about 20-30 minutes x 4-5 days. 2013- I started out with 3 surya namaskars at home, and then increased it to 5 suya namaskars a month later. 2014- I joined a yoga class and lost a chunk of my weight with ashtanga and vinyasa asanas, I must add here that I was also working as a journalist then for a brief period (read about it here) and the hectic schedule also helped me drop dress sizes. 
• My food habits focused on portion control. I still do practise this, but not as rigorously as before. These are the rough quantities of food portions- 3 small to medium chapatis/1 serving of rice (either sambar or rasam or curd rice)/ 2 brown bread slices. I also preferred eating tofu to paneer since 200g of tofu has half the calories (and is super filling at 120 calories!)

My present (2015-now)

Note to y'all- I am not short! It's the angle. 

Took this minutes before uploading this post, just to show you how I look now.
If you're curious to know my height, I am 5'8.

I lost 20+ kilograms and now wear size XS or S (depending on the brand). It was not easy losing weight, physically and mentally. Though the skin bears stretch marks that are a reminder of how far I've come along, I still don't feel satisfied with how I look. This is the first reason that transpired the 21 day no junk food challenge. The second reason that I took up this challenge is because I wanted to break free of any developing sugar addiction. 

Let me tell you why I felt I was in the grip of one- I was roughly eating a packet of cookies every single day. EVERY SINGLE DAY. Additionally, I would empty huge slices of cake, packets of chips, sweets, pakora and mayonnaise sandwiches way too often. Fat was accumulating around my stomach, hips and thighs. Even my face looked chubbier and I felt like I was an example of that saying, 'old habits die hard'. 

My '21 day no junk food' experience
  
I took up this challenge from April 25 to May 15. I did not weigh myself, because the goal was to see the change abstinence could bring upon my physique. 

This was my holy grail during the testing 3 week period-

• NO Cookies
• NO Chips
• NO Fried Food- yes, even homemade snacks
• NO Sweets- from semiya payasam made by mom to the delicacies at restaurants
• NO Bread
• NO Butter
• NO Cheese
• NO Restaurant food

What I ate in balanced, filling amounts for breakfast+lunch+dinner+snacks (a gap of at least 1.5-2 hours between each meal)-

• 2.2-2.5 litres of water
• Boiled eggs
• White Rice
• Chapatis
• Sambar, rasam, kuzhambu
• 1-2 spoons of ghee
• Homemade vegetable curries and subzis, tofu, paneer
• Coffee/Tea, made with milk + 1.5 small spoons of sugar
• Buttermilk
• Homemade curd
• Sugar-free watermelon juice
• Banana, grapes, watermelon, mangoes and apples

The experience of taking up this challenge was.. reassuring. I learnt the amount of discipline I could rein in, avoiding anything remotely tempting. There were numerous occasions to test my willpower- my brother's birthday, two wedding anniversaries in the family and those gnawing moments when I was very hungry and there was only water at home. I avoided even sniffing a single marie biscuit during such times, guzzling water instead. I ate fruit for dessert, and drank coffee/tea/watermelon juice when hungry. 

I had three food related nightmares (yes, that's a thing) during the first week of the challenge. I did have cravings, but surprisingly, not as strongly as I suspected they would be. I managed to stay committed throughout the 21 days, but found solace in cribbing to bae, my friends and family. If they were not there to listen to me rant, I swear you'd find me yanking my hair out and roaming around the streets like a mad woman (heya buddy exaggeration, I missed you for a while now).

Results of the challenge

Since I did not weigh myself, I do not really know whether I lost any kilograms. But I can tell you that I have seen a significant reduction in my body fat. I have also been easing myself back into the yoga bandwagon, in order to stay fit. 

My stomach has caved in, my waist size has shrunk, my muffin top has lost a bit of its fluffiness and my thighs do seem a bit more toned. My face has lost some of the chubbiness too, or so I seem to deduce. 

I do not know if these pictures can exactly capture the changes mentioned above, because I can see all of them when I am in my birthday suit (ahem, no pictures of that tho'). Here's a look at them, anyway-

Left- April 23 | Right- May 13
I seriously wanna apologize for the bad photo on the right.

A hopefully better looking photograph. Taken on May 13 (Day 19).
The jeans were ill fitting at the waist, hips and the knee area.
Not fibbing, mother promise!

Left- April 21 | Right- May 15
PS: Sorry for the scary-looking face.
I think my face looks a little thinner, no?

With that, I put a full stop to this rather long post. BRB, I need to empty the sweets waiting for me inside the refrigerator.

If you wanna ask me anything about this experience, drop me an email at maha141193@gmail.com or comment below! Would love to hear your thoughts. :)

Bits and pieces.

Away on nimble-tipped wings, always poised but ruffling every individual's feathers- oh time, how fast have you flown away? 2015 felt like a capsule of emotions dropped into a cocktail of events, and it passed so fast as well. I am 22 now, and engaged to be married to a wonderful man- wow, this is really happening then. It was just yesterday that I was a short haired girl standing at the crossroads, obsessing over whether I would grow my hair out, lose weight, achieve anything to be called worthy in life and of course- whether I would find 'the One'. Somehow, so much has changed over the past few months and that is what I want to document here. In all my earnestness and battling this sudden crippling sensation while writing, I present this jumbled account of what 2015 taught and brought to me:

1. Bad things always come to an end. I breathe anxiety when stressed out, and I become one giant frowning emoticon. But whenever I am caught in a shit storm, it makes me depend on nobody but myself. I have come to the realization that I am my own saviour (cue an angelic sweep on the lyre and a golden halo above my head), and I can choose to either mope or cope. It is okay to cry and throw a pen (or a refrigerator, in case you wanna switch things up) at the wall, but to only wallow in pain? At the end of the day, Time reforms to become a mean-girl-to-non-mean-girl (?) Cady Heron and cries Phoenix tears on your wounds. One such small experience I had was when I did a ramp walk at my previous office. I always wanted to be one of those models who would swing their hips and sashay confidently, while the audience looked at them in awe. But when I attempted the ramp walk, I apparently made for a comic sight (as recounted by a friend). I was very upset to have heard some members of the audience titter when I had done the ramp walk, and I did mope for a bit. I was embarassed at the thought of meeting these people at work the next day, but the jokes never came forth. It was all back to normal, and it was just another experience for me, But on a more serious note, a friend of mine told me some very comforting words recently- "You have the choice of always beginning again, of wiping the slate clean." It holds so much truth in it, because bad times are temporary. It is okay to immerse yourself in the pain it brings, but you also have to haul yourself up and face the world even before you are ready. Because the moment you step into the spotlight, you have no choice but to let the sun beams radiate. And soon, you become whole again. Much like Glen Coco. You go, Glen Coco! (Sorry for the Mean Girls references, and thanks for not chasing me with a 1000-wala firecracker bomb.)

2. Do it, even if it scares you. This word, It, holds whole worlds within. To me, It meant getting a tattoo. I was piss-in-my-skinny-jeans scared of getting inked, but I went ahead. I did It because I wanted a belief of mine to be etched into my skin and remind me to never fall so far down the rabbit hole. (PS: It is a tat of a phoenix, symbolizing strength and resurrection.) If It to you means getting a septum piercing, pulling off a crop top with tiny shorts or singing to a large audience, pull out all stops. Even if they laugh at you, laugh harder than they did. Now that's downright sportive of you, and confusing to them. (If you can't win over them, become one of them)

But please do not pay heed to what I said if it requires you to commit murder, suicide or rob a bank. And watching all the Final Destination movies together- that shit be cray cray.

My tattoo, on the nape of my neck.

3. Appearances do matter, but like, 50%. I wish I could stroke every teenager's hair gently and tell them that only inner beauty matters. But I do not believe that myself, and this has nothing to do with the "EVERYTHING IS PHOTOSHOPPED AGDXGBZHM" line being parroted. During my teenage years and a little beyond, I was an overweight girl who was in denial of how she looked. I would binge eat a lot and form resolves to exercise every week, abandoned when I thought of putting on my sports shoes and facing the world. But I did start at some point in 2013, and there has been no looking back since. I now look like half of me just broke off of my own physique and ran away into the sunset, while the other half blinks like a ramp model who has forgotten her routine on stage. I am in no way implying that I look like a model, it was a very crap joke I tried to illustrate my point. Okay, I quit the rambling and tell you straight- I love my body now. I still do battle issues with the way I look, droning on about how I wish I could stop loving junk food and become one of those Instagram babes with flat stomachs. But I also celebrate how far I have come from the start of that weight loss journey- clocking in a loss of 20+ kilograms and going from a US Size 16 to Size 4. (Bragging much?) But the truth is, I got barrel loads of self confidence only after that drastic transformation in my physique. And most individuals tend to feel the same, as I see from trending hashtags like #transformationtuesday and make up diaries. To anyone who says weight loss and/or wearing make up to enhance your looks are superficial, I have a picture to convey what I want to say:

Source: Pinterest

Remember, your "on fleek" look can never outshine your amazing sketches, your awesome-sauce karaoke sessions or pani-puri thulping abilities! 

4. Good things eventually happen. I remember how I whined to my family last year about how I would never find anyone to call my own. I wanted the cringe-worthy romance, sweet nothings and promises of how amazing it would be to be with someone I would never get bored of. It finally happened after a spate of self -doubting, and like a cliched rom-com protagonist, I declare: "Once he came into my life, everything changed for the better." If he is reading this (which he must have done, like a gazillion times, I am sure), he knows how much of a better individual I have grown into becoming now. And let us not limit good things to just finding your other half. I also have good things happening to me such as fitting into cute clothes, being able to splurge on whatever I wish to buy and discovering aspects of myself slowly, like the setting of the orange sunrise in the horizon. I am also going through some other mental turmoil as I type right now, and it has been testing one other individual as well. But we both know that after the storm, cometh the calm. (Wait, why did I even Shakespeare) And good things are just, just around the corner.

5. To each, their own. And finally, this is something I have been wanting to talk about for a while now. This has to do with how judgmental we have all become. Each person has their own beliefs, routines and tastes. (Duh, Einstein) But to fuss over someone else whose ideologies do not match up to ours and crib about it- what is even the point? Every individual is entitled to making decisions that benefit them without being subjected to emotional dressing-downs, as long as they do not harm another individual's life. In respect to my life, I specifically talk now about how some people in my life are asking me the question, "Why are you getting married so early?" While I appreciate their concern about whether I have taken a major decision after thinking through it soundly, I also do not like how it carries an undertone of disdain. To some, marriage seems appropriate after they clock in 25 plus in years. And some do not wish to marry at all. And there are individuals like me who wish to marry young. While society at large lauds these individuals who marry a little later or choose to remain as bachelors as "achievers", those who marry young are chuckled at and told in a conspirational whisper, "Escaping uhhh". What even. As long as my marrying someone at the age of 22 does not threaten your very living, you can respect my decision- like I respect and do not try to change your opinion on marriage. (You here addresses the people who asked me that very thoughtful question) And if you are extremely nice to me, you might just find extra sweets on your banana leaf during my marriage. 

And with this, I usher in 2016 very late. Here's hoping that I do not grow fat from all that sitting on my bum, and all of you happiness the equivalent of a sugar rush!

Hues.

Your fingers deftly open the tiny paint bottles, and you peek into a glossy world within. You are completely new to this, my love, and you cannot help but feel a certain awe. Carefully, you touch the surface and soft to your very touch, you dabble with the many hues. I see a child like glee on your face as your slender fingers trace many shapes on the off white and blemish-free canvas, so blank and full of possibilities. Your mind races through so many scenarios, your imagination has taken wings. You paint me carefully, your face scrunched up in concentration and you make clean strokes at first. But the strokes get smudged and less sharper as you continue. At one point, you are nearly about to pick up the easel and hurl it at the wall. Those carefully mixed colors, that glee-they all give away when you have your first of the many moments of frustration. Pause a moment, love, and take a look through this kaleidoscope I present myself as.

I paint myself pink when the transient moments we share are a burst of energy and endless laughter, when everything seems perfect. When I feel ignored and helpless, chock full of self pity and salty, suppressed tears-I paint myself an icy blue. When your affections beams down on me rays of sunshine, I paint myself yellow. When I feel non-attachment, the shroud of emotions that clung to me like wet and stiff denim lifted away from my frail shoulders, I paint myself white. When I talk to you, I am a palette of colors, an amalgam of unbridled emotions. But when the going gets tough, the urge to become a black hole gets stronger-I feel the pain stretch boundless, taut and infinite. Because even though you paint me like a vision of vivacity, a feverish dream- you forget that I am but the palette holding all these paints within me. Worn out and warm at the cockles, your fingers only dip and swirl, dip and draw out where many did the same. There are many faint scratches and dried out blotches that even the most effective cleanser-time-cannot erase. My love, I wish to tell you but one thing- whether the painting gives out or your interest disintegrates, you left your imprint on me. And one day, quiet thoughts will pass through your mind like clouds and you will smile to yourself. My love, you smile because for those fleeting moments, I was a perception, your very own chimera. 

The ex-reporter’s story.

Hello to all reading this, and months have passed since I cracked my knuckles and decided to pen down the various thoughts that have been floating inside my head. And so, I wanted to get down to writing about one important chapter of my life from May to October this year- when I was a journalist for a period of 5 months. I studied journalism for three years only to quit my job after a short period of employment, after I found out that my heart wasn’t there. Fellow reporters may sheepishly smile, thinking I was not cut out to be one among them- the guardians of truth and justice, the individuals who wield their pens and paint reality in its garish entirety. I had bowed down to pressure in just a few months, and was weak. I was disillusioned with not the industry, but myself. I loved reading and writing since a young age, when books made for better companions, and a notebook would be the only object I could express my feelings of angst or general wonder through. It was only natural that I opted for journalism in college while most of my school mates went on to study engineering, but I had never seen it coming. The three years in college were not a breeze, and for the first time in my life, I harbored an inkling of irritation for writing. Put through countless assignments that required me to not be languid but crisp with words, it was agony as I like to be flowery and descriptive with my language. 


Post college- from May to October 2014, was the period where my college education consisting of years of pouring over notes and wasted tears from the stress were disregarded. On the job, it was like learning from scratch and I entered the world of being one among the employed classes. Being a reporter was not easy, as it required me to do the one thing I dreaded- constant communication with strangers. More days were spent travelling on my scooter, a thin layer of dust coating my face after hectic travelling under Chennai’s unrelenting sun. A pen and a small notepad would be ready at hand, with cramped fingers taking down frantic notes and quotes at all times. There were so many moments spent waiting along with my phone, making calls to my sources at all times and numerous top-ups to keep my phone’s talk-time balance from not falling into bankruptcy.  


But there have been good moments too- I met a really good individual who went on to become one of the closest people in my life and who accepted me with all my bluntness in tow. Memories ping in my head, where endless cups of sugary tea and melt-in-the-mouth butter biscuits helped in forming a solid bond with my friend. I learnt that people were not intimidating as I thought they would be if I introduced myself as a journalist and asked for help, and talking to strangers was not as difficult as I thought it would be. I got to interview artists, who were not very well-known but possessed a powerhouse of talent, and attend events that opened up my senses. I learnt to get out of my comfort zone, to accomplish tasks well within deadlines and that I was decent at editing as well as writing.   

But the one greatest lesson I learnt from the job was that it was okay to question choices, like my employment as a journalist. I let go of Pressure and Deadlines, the two devils that hovered and hummed around my shoulders and weighed me down, and improved my language and people skills. I learnt that though the pay was meagre, there were people who took what I wrote seriously- who made me feel like I had brought about a change, however minor it may have been. I gave up the job for a reason- I realised that there are two types of writers- the journalists whose allies are precision and accuracy, to keep information objective and free from any personal touches, and the dreamers with so many ideas, thoughts and emotions floating inside their heads, like balloons waving gently in the air and finding solace in words, expressions full of flourishes. I belong to the latter category, and my short stint as a reporter made me realise that.

I was an insider who stepped out, with no definite plans in the future being foreseen. But I am enjoying the lack of urgency and the leisure at which I can now find out my true calling- I like the view better from here.         

 

And I stopped to smell the roses.

That title must sound very familiar to you, reader. You must have had somebody even tell you this at some point of your life, when you were rushing about to make all your ends meet and were in the frenzy of things. I work as a reporter, and I always sweat the small stuff and hardly ever have time to relax. So, on a Saturday morning when everyone was lazing and lolling about in my house, I was at work. I took a deep breath and thought about the things that could be called the simple pleasures that life showers upon us, materialistic or not. These actions, events and objects, they may be transient but in that moment, they dull life's arduousness. But, you ask me, what are they? And here, I pull out some moments from the recesses of my brain:

RTO Beach, Thiruvanmiyur. This was during noon time, and this calmed my frayed nerves during my license exams. 

The blush of the moon- Elliot's beach, Besant Nagar.

The food that I devoured at Madras Pavilion, ITC Madras. That one night, I forgot to count my calories. 

The chirp of birds early in the morning, signifying the stifling of night's ominous mood, gently brushed aside by the gentle rays of the morning's hand. The curling of your palm around the cup of coffee/tea and the first sip you take that warms your throat. The rustle of newspapers, as your fingers clasp with a certain familiarity the end of the pages, ready to take in whatever news the world has to offer you. The freshness that envelops your body after a bath, when you feel like your worries melted away under the cascading of water over you. The taste of the first bite of food when you are hungry, and the subsequent feeling of pleasure that comes after. The joy of seeing a dog with a wagging tail and a stuck-out tongue, and feeling your mood lift up. The curling up on your bed or on the couch to read your favorite book or magazine, and deeply inhaling the musty smell. The melting of chocolate on your tongue, soft and delicious. Eating toasted bread with pats of butter spread across generously, and feeling like that maybe, heaven does exist. The pitter patter of rains outside your window, and sipping hot beverage and smiling at the coolness that tinges the air. When you see time move quickly while at work, and knowing that the end of the day is not far away. Performing a physical activity, and feeling fit for those fleeting minutes. Your mother's or grandmother's sweets twinkling at you invitingly during festivals. Finding solace in quiet gardens or parks as you let yourself be awed by nature's demure beauty. Finding that item of clothing that is tailor-made for you and well within your budget while shopping. Biting into a pizza and feeling the cheese explode in your mouth, and leaving you aching for more. The brush of flower petals against your skin, and the gentle tickle that feels like the caress of nature. Sitting on the beach as you watch the waves crash upon the sands, and wonder what other mysteries it holds deep within as the salty air tousles your hair. When you are home alone and do whatever you want to, feeling all grown up and responsible. Touching the hair on a baby's head, and smiling at the softness like it has been spun out of clouds and silk. Seeing your article published in the newspaper, magazine or website and feeling a sense of elation coursing through you, and feeling like your life is instantly better. The smile that your first salary brings to your lips, and knowing that you are now financially independent. Lazy weekends, where you just lie on your bed and do nothing and finding a certain calmness in the inactivity. Watching a movie with your family, and sharing popcorn and smiles. The funny joke you come across, and belly-shaking laughter, pink cheeks and happy-tears that follow. Finding that one song or tune that perks you up, and humming it while a smile plays on your lips secretly. Immersing your hand in a bucket of water, and finding an oddly relaxing sensation take over yourself (If you have not tried this, please do not miss it!) Looking at childhood photographs, and realising with a certain twang of pride and nostalgia that the beautiful baby smiling without a care in the world is you. The perfect selfie, and the number of likes that you get on a social media platform, whether you admit to this or not. The wind that sweeps through your hair when you travel in a scooter/bike/car and feeling like you're the hero/heroine in a movie. Doing that one activity that you struggled to do in the past, and finding that it comes so naturally to you now. When someone compliments you unexpectedly, and the happiness that glows pink on your cheeks and lights up your eyes. When you stretch your body after a long day of work, and feel the soreness and tiredness leave. And when your head rests on your pillow and you snuggle under your blanket, you are lulled into sleep by the gentle whirring of the fan and its cool air. You close your eyes and know that maybe, just maybe, if you noticed and dabbled in the small things that are innocent and pleasurable at its very core, life would not seem so difficult. After all, if I stopped and smelt the roses, so can you.

Too bogged down to give a title and all.

Today has been just like the past few days since my last semester of college ended- boring. The only thing I look forward to is going for walks with my cousin sister in the evening, where we pursue fitness and gab nineteen to the dozen. So as I returned home from my evening walk, I get a message saying that the semester exam results are out. I log in to the mostly inaccessible college intranet website smoothly, and view my results. "Hmm, A and above in everything", says my mom with a relaxed look on her face and walks out of the room. I'am by now nonchalant to the whole result frenzy, and just shrug my shoulders at nobody in particular. But something within me is unsettled, something that has been nagging me in the recesses of my brain for the past three months. I choose to face this dodgy demon now- it is the feeling of uncertainty. I login to Facebook immediately, and see that my classmates have posted happy statuses declaring themselves to be graduates, and there is virtual bonhomie. But I see a certain pride in their statuses, which I lack and I envy them for that. "They've figured out what they are going to do with their lives, and look at you! Aimless, aimless fool!", my mind throws at me. Most people have by now figured out whether they're going to study abroad or work, and where they are going to become more accomplished. But I feel scared because of the uncertainty of it all- I plan to work but do not know where, and I doubt my writing abilities. My body is slumped in favour of total relaxation, but my mind is in overdrive. I search for a word or two to describe my sense of self, and with dismay I find that it is "direction-less and lazy". The very two things that I despise in others, and I see it in myself. Have you ever felt that moment when you feel like you're trying really hard yet not hard enough? That's where I am right now, in limbo, hanging in between the light of figuring out my career and the dark of just being a college pass out with no aim. I'am sure there are a few souls like me who will agree with me when I say that it is highly frustrating when an adult asks you very casually, "Enna ma, what are your plans after this?" My innards are fraught with dread and anxiety, but externally I maintain a calm poise. I tell them that I plan to work in media field. Cue next irritating response or question, always alternating between "Oh, where? Hope we'll see you in the TV soon, hehe!" and "Why are you not studying a PG, ma?!" I want to shout that I do not bloody know where I am going to sit and screw my brains out due to work, and that I was not enthusiastic about a PG. Is it normal to not have your life figured out in this important passage of time, where everybody except me seems so sure of where they are progressing? It might sound overly dramatic when I say this, but I felt a faint voice screaming inside me due to the frustration. Because it feels like I take a step backward every time another young person like me knows what they are going to do next in life. I feel under-accomplished and like a dunce, and those breezy and emphatic articles flooding the internet talking about how it is okay to have your 20s figured out do not help me in the least. To put it simply in one sentence, "I do not want to feel like a failure." If I had a rupee for every career-related thought that plays with my mind and my peace, I'd be a crorepathi and would be able to set up my own magazine. If only, *sigh*.