Taking it personally

For a while, I swung between two extremes of ownership – indifference and passionately personal. Neither led to great results. And finding the balance between the two has been a tight-rope walk; one that I have not mastered yet.

After giving it a lot of thought, I think I know why. Indifference was easy. When I achieved something to a satisfactory outcome to my expectation, I stopped caring about what happened to it thereafter. Or when I put in a lot of effort into something and got great results, but nobody gave me credit, or said “Wow! What a great job!”, I stopped caring.

Instances where I got passionately personal was a little difficult to analyse. Why would I fail at getting great results at something which I had made every waking thought (even dreams occasionally), which I put every ounce of effort I could muster? I was doing the right things, in the right way. But when I put in an effort of 100, and those around would only put in about 20, sometimes not even doing the right things, I didn’t try to raise them up. It was easier to tell myself that I had messed up and put myself down.

I’ve been told on multiple occasions, in both a professional and a personal capacity that I take things too personally. Why is that?

The answer (I think), is maybe I don’t value my own opinion enough. Why wasn’t a pat on the back from myself good enough when I started tending towards indifference? Why didn’t I detach from the situation, get a better perspective, and moved on?

Once I got to this conclusion, I realised that I don’t value my own opinion or word on an everyday basis. I don’t express anger - I clam myself up and continue about my day. I don’t express sadness – I put on a brave face, attempting to hide what I’m feeling and fail miserably at it. I don’t express preference – I go with the choice of the majority or references. I don’t have a preference in interiors, or clothes – I go with what I have been conditioned to like.

I definitely need to reassess life a little bit and give a lot more importance to what I want to do. Funnily enough, this exercise is going to quite a double guessing game. Am I choosing what I ‘should’, or am I choosing me?

Half year resolution maybe?

Falling in love at 30

 All the 30+ peeps, make some noise!! (Thunderous applause)

All the single 30+ peeps, make some noise!! (Scattered 3-clap disappointed applause)
Did that set the context of the rant below?

I’m new to being 30; 4 months new. I didn’t think of it to be a big deal till I went to the doctor recently.

Me: Doctor, my symptoms are A, B, C, D. My habits are P, Q, R, S.
Doctor: That’s the reason.
Me: But I’ve been that for years. What’s causing changes so suddenly now?
Doctor: You’re 30.

I’m not going to lie. It hit me like a bag full of nuts and bolts smacked across my face.

Reason for doctor (Just giving you some context):

At 22, when you get your heart broken, you need Jack Daniels. At 30, when you get your heart broken, you need Dr. Daniels (Therapist). Well, that or Vipassana.

I’ve fallen in love several times before. I’m not new to this. At 20, 24, 26, 28, 30. I missed 22 because of a relationship. Would have tied up my AP quite neatly.

You know the old routine… the idea of someone giving you butterflies in your tummy, being reminded of them when you see their favourite biscuit, or hear one of the songs that they once shared with you, sighing deeply every now and then. N/A for people currently infected with Coronavirus. I’m not going to be biased. You could get deep breaths caused by that intense-teenage-love feelings even if you’re infected. But, I digress. Anyone can fall in love. It’s free. Like punching a wall. With your head. (That’s why the butterflies… see what I did there!!)

But it’s different every time. It’s a different part of the head. You’ve already developed some numbness. You might even be carrying some scars from the previous time (Some call it baggage. I romanticized the term ‘scar’ for my own convenience long ago). And the expectations are different too when you’re 30, you know! You’ve been there, done that. Classified every person you’ve ever met into some or the other category ‘type’ (Ohh… you’re one of those!!). And then there’s one you probably can’t quite classify. And all that your brain wants to do with that scientific curiosity is to know the other person a little more, in a desperate attempt to eventually classify them.

And there’s the kicker. The more you know them, you can’t classify them. (In all honesty, had one taken the time to know the others previously classified, one might not be able to classify them either.) It’s the same concept when you make friends: “This is my person”; for no rhyme or reason.

And before you know it, you’re in too deep. If you’ve had a history of making messed up choices, congratulations! Welcome to the world of unrequited one way love again, which makes a part of your head feel like half your age. That’s one way of being 16 years old at heart.

But there’s the advantage of being 30. You’ve had plenty of scars, so this one hurts just a little less. (No it doesn’t. I’m lying. You just get used to it. Or not. Like periods.) You tackle these situations better every time because you’re experienced. You grow a little more; wiser beyond your years. You open yourself up sooner, because you still have hope. It’s just going to take a little time. Maybe a day, maybe a week, maybe a month or maybe six. But you deal with it. Not because that’s what is expected out of you. But because you know you’re better for it.

What’s a Romantic?

adjective

conducive to or characterized by the expression of love.

"a romantic candlelit dinner"

Most of us grew up with the above definition, always relating the term ‘romance’ to the idea of love, and love between a man and a woman no further (Let us be honest, most of us did not grow up with great sensitization or awareness of sexual fluidity, so I am not going to try to be politically correct or particularly inclusive here; I am just going to be downright honest.). Mummy and Papa hugging each other used to be romantic, candle light dinners in movies or books were romantic, Valentine’s day was romantic (just because the calendar said so) and Titanic was very very romantic.

It was during college that I took a course on Indian literature written in English that my definition of romance suddenly expanded. And I thank Tagore for this.

adjective

of, characterized by, or suggestive of an idealized view of reality.

"a romantic attitude to the past"

And just like that, suddenly, there was romance in stories beyond “love”. There was romance in rain, silence, and even colour. For me personally, a certain concept of purity, of un-adulteration, represented romance. It took me years to realize that absolute purity most often leads to vulnerability. It took me longer to accept that. And not long at all to realize it is really difficult to live with.

Can you imagine it? Can you imagine living in a bubble with no lies, no deceit, no manipulation, no pretence and no malice? Where you speak what is in your heart and your wear your heart on your sleeve? Where your passion is visible in your eyes? Because I cannot anymore. We have gone through our years seeing too much of ‘adulteration’. We have seen diplomacy, crime, greed, and ambition getting the better of people. You see these barrage of impurities and wonder how could something ‘pure’ even survive in this whirlwind of dirt. And then something happens, and you do not know how, but you know it does survive.

That slightly chilly breeze out of nowhere will still give you goose-bumps. That weirdly dramatized representation of friendship on a movie screen will still put half a tear in your eye. A whiff of a smell that reminds you of an old love will still fleetingly raise your hormones. Have you felt it? The passion in the eyes of a boxer while he shifts his entire body’s intensity into the one punch that he has trained for 15 years? The realization of absolute silence around you broken by the sudden rustle of the trees in the middle of the night? The expression of a person sleeping in their deepest rem cycle reflecting what they are dreaming about?

I will not be surprised if you feel it. It will be slightly different for you, like it is for each person. It is too strong a act for you to deny. You are a mere mortal. But if you acknowledge it, Congratulations, you are a romantic.

P.S.: I am a hard-core romantic. I would not just spend time acknowledging ‘romantic stuff’, but happily spend time day-dreaming or desiring these situations. Sorry (Not sorry!)! My favourite people are romantic. And you do not have to be able to put it in words, but if the beauty of purity makes your heart well up, then you are my best friend from now on.

Can't stop

I can't stop.

I can't pause.

And no, I cannot catch a break.

I'm addicted to fluidity.

I'm addicted to the pace.

I hate change. But I can't do without it.

Monotony is suffocating.

Decisions are emotional and quick.

You always know what your heart wants.

I like black. I like white better. Gray areas don't exist. They are constructed to hide.

I like being blunt. I'm honest.

I'm not going to beat about the bush. I don't lie.

It may hurt. But it's better that way.

I'm either the bff. Or I don't give a damn.

I would love to death. Or I wouldn't care if they live or die.

It's always about the speed.

I can handle it.

I can't stop.

I can't pause.

And no, I cannot catch a break.

Hickey

I wake up at six,

finding you sleeping next to me, I give you a kiss.

You acknowledge the gesture,

and kiss the air,

before rolling over

and going back to sleep on your rear.

In front of the mirror,

I look at the scars,

Scattered around my neck,

Like a negative of the night stars.

It’s a wednesday,

We have to go to work,

got drunk anyway,

we’re quite a piece of work.

I choose a shirt,

that puts my neck as if on display,

as clear as the ash from the cigarettes,

in a white ash-tray.

And as I color my lips red,

I take a final glance,

at the marks from last night,

a sign of passionate romance.

I peck you once more before I leave

and give you a red mark of my own,

which you will realize only later,

once you’ve already hit the road.

They look at my scars,

with futile attempts to hide their surprise,

On the way to work and at it

I’m used to their eyes.

For every stare,

I can only blush

and think back at that 3AM rush.

I proudly walk along,

not quite giving a damn,

Still smelling of you,

still smelling of us,

still smelling of sex,

And those hickies on my neck.

Slow down you crazy child

Dream away, dream away, dream away they say,

And to stay grounded, they ask,

Are not the expectations high?

But why?

Taking flight is easy,

Stick your hand out of a car window,

You’ll know.

Easy to fly, Easy to fall,

Time flies when you’re having fun.

No wonder life has time

to flash by your eyes.

Get a grip,

take it easy,

there’s plenty of time,

if you can hold it in.

An Obsolete Culture

With the times being accused of modernization, there is a lot of talk about not forgetting our roots and staying true to our culture. A culture that has been dictating to us for centuries about our diets, our relationships, our relationships and our rights. Even today, my grandfather asks me about the caste and the religion of a person every time I mention the name of a friend. There are also a number of friends and acquaintances who have not been able to marry their boyfriends/girlfriends owing to community differences. A number of people who wouldn't dare to eat an egg in front of their families are expert cooks of B.L.Ts and Spaghetti with Meatballs. And another whole sample set who have the best taste in cocktails, beer or wine and food pairings and are the assigned bartenders for every house party I attend, but have to clean their house spotless and devoid of any empty bottles when their families come to visit.

The pressure subjected by 'staying true to our culture' is essentially demanding people to live double lives, instigating violence, and birthing not just distrust but hate.
We might even say that culture has reached a point when it outweighs its pros with its cons.
We live in an age where intellect and common sense is taking a back seat while radical bigotry roams freely on the streets under the pretext of protecting our culture.  There have been multiple instances of threat and killings under the same pretext as well.

The prerogative for humans to engage in activities which can be remotely routed back to "culture" often comes at the cost of relationships and decides the extent to which one would be accepted in the society. The other day, I overheard someone say that a man on drugs is more acceptable in the society than a woman who is a cigarette smoker. These cultures don't just vary across religions and countries, but across cities barely a few hundred kilometers away which seems rather ludicrous in the age of multimedia and lo' and behold, the internet.

The "culture" gives rise to sexism, bigotry, casteism, violence, and a whole list of criminal activities  otherwise, including but not limited to honor killing.
This said, there's always a whole new argument about governance and the law protecting perpetrators of said crime. In the above statement, we are referring to the same government which makes its laws based on popular vote rather than actually thinking about what's right or wrong.
Honor killing is a crime but marital rape isn't recognized. Vilification of men under the accusation of rape is instant without investigation and paternal leaves are rare. And this doesn't even cover the recent activities of radical killings and the spree of bans which is nothing but an indicative of intolerance; all under the excuse of protecting our culture.

The government since independence has spoken about the upliftment of minorities. There is a clarification required here. Which minorities are being referred to? Caste based? Religion based? Why are we limited to these though? What about the minorities of thought? Being minorities, shouldn't they be uplifted rather than targeted.

And as I said before, we may have very well reached a point where the very idea of culture outweighs its pros with its cons. And when an institution as such becomes harmful rather than useful, it should be done away with.

Incapable of Love

Disclaimer: I'm not married. And I've dated a few people. And I have been considering the option of an arranged marriage. And I have a lot of friends who fall into almost every case mentioned below. So judge now, and then continue reading.

We want lightening internet, faster food, quicker results and prompt service. We are aware that there is so much to do that we haven't done, and we're aware of the short 24 hours that we have. Our spoilt habits of instant gratification, multi-tasking and growing ambitions keeps us dissatisfied and always hungry for more; applicable not just to our daily tasks but to our relationships as well.

While the world is crazy about dating and finding 'love', the number of people opting for arranged marriages is also increasing, evidenced by the fact that the matrimonial match-making business is increasingly thriving. Contradiction alert! I read an article recently: 10 Reasons why this generation is losing the ability to be in love.

1. We care more about instant gratification than we do anything else.
2. We've built a culture driven by drugs and booze.
3. We sleep around – a lot!
4. We're becoming even more egocentric.
5. We date for the sake of dating.
6. We aren't fans of making compromises.
7. We believe in fairytale endings.
8. We've been fooled into believing perfection is attainable.
9. We're goal driven, but often forget to include our partners in the mix.
10. Most of us are really bad at loving.

So, in a nutshell, we can't find love because we're looking for the perfect person without making the investment of time and compromises. Hence we fall back on the option of arranged marriages so that we don't have to die alone. But if we're not willing to make compromises with love, why would we be willing to make compromises with a married partner? The answer is that we probably won't! The excitement and butterflies-in-my-tummy feeling always dies out eventually. The difference is whether it will die out while you're still dating someone or once you are married to someone. In some magical circumstances, even after the initial charm has worn out, the bond still exists. In case of dating, if the families agree, they'd get married. In case of marriages, well, the families have already agreed. So everything is hunky-dory. But what about all the other cases when the charm has died out and there's no bond in sight?

We're looking at a lot of break ups and increasing number of divorces. Break up in a span of months. And divorces in under 5 years (only because you have to try to make the marriage work owing to social obligations). You have 'just friends', 'friends with benefits', 'friends after breaking up', 'just dating not serious', 'in a relationship on Facebook but haven't said I love you', and 'about to call it off' as though it was a spontaneous holiday you've decided against because you're too sleepy that morning. Then you have 'trial separations', 'distance marriages', 'open marriages', 'annulments' and 'divorces'.

In the next decade , there are going to be a lot of 25-37 year olds bouncing around looking for stability wondering where they went wrong; some already with kids and some paying alimony; and some who's dating record will resemble Phoebe's and some with 3 divorces under their belts like Ross. Some like Charlotte saying "I've been dating since I was fifteen. I'm exhausted. Where is he?" And some like Barney who'll finally realize that he wants what Marshall and Lily have.

But like every situation, this has it's pros and cons. You know how after a bad break-up, all you want is your friends and family to fall back on? How they're always there for you despite watching you make the same mistake over and over? How they're fed up of you being stupid but love you for and despite all of it? Every messed up relationship only takes you closer to them. And there's nothing that a " 'I love you guys!', and 'Awww, we love you too!' after a few tequila shots" or a " 'Thanks a being there man' and 'Yeah, whatever.' after a few beers" doesn't solve.