Frustrations

I wonder a lot these days about what it will take for me to write, to get my thoughts flowing and for my ideas to take shape, for my emotions to find a voice. There have been things that seem to be boiling inside but they refuse to find an outlet. And the worst part is, they refuse to make sense to even myself. So any efforts I undertake to put them to words leaves me only confused and lost, case in point, this blog post right now. I am struggling to get it out and I want to let it out. I want to break it out of me, I don’t want to carry it anymore, but I don’t know what the ‘it’ is, I am trying to find that out but I do not know if I ever will. There is also a fear that maybe I do but I refuse to let it come out, choosing instead to repress it. The question is, if that is the case, how long will it stay repressed and hidden?

I remember my thoughts in my previous blog post, it was with respect to a very specific friend of mine, one who has been quite a bit of a trouble, I say trouble, tending more towards the meaning of annoyance rather than as any harmful kind of trouble. But the problem is, it can get pretty difficult for me at times and I feel used and generally treated in a not very nice way and it goes against everything in me to complain because I have always believed that I should not. I have always been of the opinion that everything has a workaround, something so that I can always suck it up and deal with. But there have been times, especially this semester where I really wanted to complain, where I think more than ever, I was reminded strongly of my own limitations. No one wants to be reminded of their limitations, why would you want to know that you may never potentially be able to do something. It is not exactly the most hopeful message out there in the universe.

I think, in my life, I have always functioned on hope, always on the belief that things shall work out, turn around and get better. Especially with things that I really want, things I strongly desire, but recently I have been reminded, again and again, every week, every day even, that it won’t happen. And I think that is what has recently taken a toll on me because is it really too much to ask? I found the word I had been looking for, I have been on a pedestal of frustration, frustration is the word I was searching for. I want to do so many things, I need to be doing so many things but I have not been doing them or when I have been trying, they have not been getting done. It has pushed me into this pit that is weirdly deep and I didn’t fall in but I can’t find the path I took to come in to get out. Is whatever I am saying making sense?

And that’s my memory for the day.

Common Mistakes

Well, here’s the deal. I screw up a lot, I make too many mistakes because I do not know how to act and react in many situations. Case in point, when a message came from C, I was having dinner with my friends. One of my friends sees it and asks me a perfectly valid, innocent question, “who is it?” and I react immediately. I make a move to take my phone away from her, my face heats up (even though I don’t blush in the technical sense) and I end up escalating the issue enough that now, four other people know about it. And I feel like crying because I never intended for so many people to know and I cannot help but resent myself for my own stupidity and incompetence. In my defence though, this is the first time something like that has happened in my life and maybe hopefully, with more experience, I shall handle this much better.

But aside from that, I also have a tendency to do things I probably should not, all because I think I am doing someone something good. It is a case of misplaced generosity and it almost always comes back to bite my derriere, despite all my preparation to save myself from the inevitable pain in my derriere. But as I said, my interventional skills coupled with an exasperating memory (which can sometimes remember the dumbest things for ages and important things for a millisecond) is a disastrous combination that has left insane destruction in its wake before. Today, another such situation arose and well, I was so close to ruining everything for everyone. But I managed to somewhat control the situation and now, I think I should try my best to keep it there within the careful confines of rationality. Again, in my defence, I have never done this before and maybe hopefully, with more experience, I will handle it much better.

But aside from these completely sad states of existence is the fact that I keep on forgetting the simplest things. It could be something like forgetting my ID card and standing sadly in the mess during mealtime, it could quite literally be one of the so many things I do on a day-to-day basis. In fact, this blog post itself would not have been written had I persisted with my sleep. I have been doing that a lot lately, I end up sleeping as I am writing my post and I wake up much later, reminded of this endeavour I need to see to fruition and then I have to work again.

Sometimes I wonder how better my life would be if I were not obliged to write a blog post every day. But I also tell myself that we are near the end, almost, of this year. There are not many more months left, I have crossed a majority of it. Maybe I won’t continue this next year, or maybe I shall experiment with themes and things like that next year. But again, next year is still quite far off, nearer, but still far enough. And sometimes, I think, that is something we need to remind ourselves of. Sometimes boundaries are so thin, they can be non-existent. But that doesn’t mean the boundaries don’t exist. It is a very easy mistake to make, something I have made too many times, that has led me to quite a few situations, including the ones that happened today. Maybe I can take this as a lesson and move on?

And that’s my memory for the day.

Conversation and Insecurity

It is actually quite funny how recently I have been struggling to find things to talk about on this blog. Today was quite a busy day, I bought a few things, a top that I was immediately in love with, some leave-in hair product for curly hair, that I am extremely excited to try, a few other things. My mom treated the whole family to some scrumptious food at a good restaurant, I tried food I never would have, otherwise, all the while bemoaning the loss of money, but I still ate a lot. We travelled a lot, we had to go and apply for the visa to go to Belgium, and we went by train. My time spent travelling every day for three weeks to and in Central London kept me in good stead. I felt comfortable in the London Underground when I got on the District Line from Tower Hill station, I felt like I was entering home (at the risk of sounding like a crazy, dreamy, sentimental, foolish girl). It was quite nice, it felt quite nice.

Today, I realised that I was actually feeling quite proud of myself for this blog. I was reading through a few of the things I had written, and I felt proud. I patted myself on the back for having been mature, for having been fair to myself, for being strong, and for holding on to this blog and continuing the fight, so as to have brought it along this far. I have seen many success stories, but I have seen an equal, if not more, number of failures. I know people who have tried this writing exercise, who have tried a variety of things but found that they could not hold on for long enough. When I started this blog, that was my greatest fear. That I would add my name to a line of people who also venture into something like this, only to fail. But now, I am filled with hope that I may actually make it to one year of posts, 365 posts. I will be hitting my 200th post tomorrow and that is an important milestone for me. It is proof to myself that I have held on so long, that I have it in me to hold on.

I started writing a story yesterday that I was inspired to write by a prompt put up for a competition. The prompt said, “Trains” and asked us to make what of it we will. I was very scared at first, and in retrospect, I think I should have started long back so that I could have focussed my energies much better. But I surprisingly have an idea for how my story is going to progress, a cliche story as it looks like it will be at the moment. It is set in Chennai, my home city, during a flood in 2015 that took the city by storm, bringing the poor and the rich alike, to their knees. It was a very troublesome period, the whole city was brought to a standstill, everyone was hit in one way or the other. It was a struggle to find a lot of basic necessities, the lack of electricity, phone lines, everything, meant that people had no way of communicating even with each other. Water had logged everywhere, people were forced out of their homes as knee-deep water made its presence felt, open wires were claiming lives, the government hospital was having too many visitors. Rescue operations were being conducted by army personnel in boats, in what used to be proper land and roads. It was a very scary experience for everyone.

What had annoyed a lot of people though, was the fact that none of the national media had covered this natural disaster of unexpected magnitude. It brought into focus one of the deepest insecurities that south Indians have had, that they are not considered a part of the country because of their geographical and linguistic isolation.  This isolation is a huge cause of many insecurities. Many a time, my feelings about my own isolation from a lot of things, makes me feel quite insecure. And being insecure is not a nice feeling, not as an individual, not as a collective. It makes people distrust even those who might be doing things for their own good. It brings into focus the imperative of good communication and of good representation (what the ‘good’ entails, is again a huge question that I won’t claim to know about). After all, people do say that a good conversation can make changes that can have large impacts. Maybe we can start with the first conversation right now, starting with ourselves?

And that’s my memory for the day.