Small Things

1."When you find yourself at the edge, don't jump. Find something to hold on. You will build a bridge, You will pull through, just hold on. 😊" 03/07/15 2."It's not about regrets, it's about looking ahead." 04/07/15 3."We are not mind-blowing beautiful, we are subtle- we take your breath away a bit at a time. We may not be vivid in your memories , but we will forever linger in your mind, calling you out. We aren't a vacation destination , we are 'Home'." ~on comparing the beauty of bhutan with splendour of other places. 04/07/15 4."Its always been this way. Feeling out of place is a feeling that keeps me in place." 07/07/15 5."Worrying doesn't make anything right, it just makes everything more difficult." wee hours of 10/07/15 6."It's amazing how people want their opinions respected while insulting the opinions of other people." 12/07/15 7."You cannot wake up from reality."

I have a question, when a girl/woman is catcalled in the street, with so many witnesses, why does no one raise their voice against it? We know catcalling is wrong (or I hope most do) and we wouldn't want to be in her position (as a male or a female) and we wouldn't want our sisters, mother or our friends ( your girlfriend) to be in that situation. We can see how humiliating it is, how degrading. So why does no one object to it. Why can't a crowd 100 shut 1 person? why do we ignore? Or is it justified, because her skirt was just a bit high from her knees, or her top tight over her bossom, or she had more than one piercing on her ears or piercing elsewhere, or because she was wearing make-up, or because she was wearing tight jeans or most important of all because she wasn't doing any of the above? It's not that the whole world is bad, it's the silence of good people that's scary.

These days, sometimes when I speak, I lose track of what I was saying, or where I was going with it. Even when I am day-dreaming, I forget where I had started or how I got there. I don't think I have ever been this distracted. Inside my head, it's such a big mess. My room's never been cleaner , my table better arranged, and my bed, you won't believe this, is always made these days. But my head, i believe I haven't felt this lost in ages. I had adopted Scarlet O'hara's philosophy, " I won't think about it today, I will think about it tomorrow, tomorrow is another day" But these days, I am made to think of this unpleasant task every passing second. Even when am eating, I am thinking about all the pile of notes and texts waiting to be read. The more I think, the lesser I can do. The more I worry, the more incompetent I become to complete the task set ahead. And with increasing thoughts, the lesser the space in my brain for knowledge. I

A: "It's crowded in here." B: "You are one to complain since you are a part of it." A: "But am important! " B: "So am I." noises from the background: "Me too" "Me too" "Me too" B: "See" A: "But that's not how it works." B: "I agree. But that's how it is." A: "Hmmm. It would be less crowded if we could organise ourselves." B: "How do you propose we do that? " A: "By ranking our importance from most to least and falling into a cue." B: "But we are all equally Important." Noises from the background: "We are" "We are" "We are" A: "But I am telling you, that cannot be!" B: "And am telling you, that's how it is." A begins to think. B: "Stop! Don't..." *Pop* A new thought (C) appears. B to A: "I told you not to think, see what you have done." C: &

I take a paper and a pen, I have no words in my head, I change it to a colouring one and am thinking what am I going to create with my whimsical drawing skills... We focus too much on making the sun yellow and the moon scarred, the day-sky blue and the night-sky black dotted with tiny stars. Its not about perfection but about expression. As I draw my abstracts in sketches comparable to a toddlers work it makes sense. Art is for yourself first, its your mind, the bright parts, the dark corners, the complicated edges and the emotional ends, on a blank canvas. And if you are lucky, there may be someone else who understands it. Don't be shattered because most won't, the will laugh at it, because that's the world we live in, they only appreciate yellow sun and the blue sky, green grass and starry nights. But we are so much more than that. Oh! We are so much more than that.

You dream to be here, and yet when your dreams come true, you don't know how to pull it through. It sometimes feels like a slow dragging horror movie, I just wanna close my eyes and never get out of my bed. Piles and piles of notes, books upon books towering over you, and it isn't even half of what you're supposed to know. So many new synapses to create, and in the last moment, so many bad habits to break. The only thing thats at breaking point is you. And when you are right at the edge, you put-on some make-up and go out with the gals, having fun, often wishing for your beau-- aa...may be not, been alone far too long, I would rather have food, but then you are putting on pounds and pounds, and you think "Come on! A decade of struggle and all you got is another flat tyre going right around your abdomen. God! I feel like a fool." And then I am wondering where are the tears that helped you so much as a teenager, to build up your courage and tackle the fear, t

Have you ever picked up a pen for hours and not written down a single word. Have you ever cried so hard like a baby not knowing what hurts, not even knowing if the pain is physical or emotional. Have you ever felt like you have so much to say but don't feel like you have anyone to say it to, and when you finally do know who you wanna share it with and call them or meet them, suddenly you feel like, "Why should I tell them? It's my problem."  Have you ever broken down to pieces and picked yourself up and build yourself up time and again, and still at the end of it, felt weak, very weak.  All your life you fancy yourself strong, you fake it, you do not think of it being any other way, and one day just sitting there it hits you, how pitifully weak you are. In a life already build on shaky pillars, another pillar goes crashing... and all you want is one thing, one thing to be proud of, not something someone gave you, but something you can give. 

How does putting up your emotions on a social media make you feel better? I am genuinely asking. I feel that way, and given how many people do actually put it there, I think it's safe to say I am not alone. I mean... Let's take me for example. I think I have about 370 friends on Facebook, of which let's say about half of them are daily active. (Hard to believe?) So, of 185 people who might read my status, about 120 will just scroll by without a second glance (because they don't know me enough to care for me enough to spare the time) or luckily few might spend a second to mock it (like I sometimes do). 65 remain, 50% of whom, despite knowing me and reading the status, will feel like its none of their business (like I often do). 50% of those that remain might put a like on it and 20 % of whomever are left might comment asking, "how are you?" "what happened?" and stuff like that and forget about it all-together (or just remember about it while goss

I will proceed this without any specification on date or person. This work is entirely an effort to express myself on a topic (and may be the only topic) that I feel so strongly about, and isn't at all meant to lay blame or defame any one individual but the society as a whole. This one casualty, there was this guy, who, from the moment we met that day, started teasing me and insulting me about my Facebook profile picture. I had put up a picture of me from the collection of photos from the trip I had recently gone on, where I had just landed from a jump and my skirt was blown high by the wind showing a generous portion of my thighs but not so much as to make me hesitate to post it online (it wasn't even on focus). He went on and on about it, about how my clothes keep getting shorter and how they ("the boys") couldn't wait for my next post, and imitating the pose and the expression. (Now that I think about it, I should have asked him to read the caption that w

I was in my 3rd year, a medical student, and I was solving this bunch of questions, mathematical questions, someone had posted on Facebook. I got through a few quite breezily, then I got stuck on to this algebra question. When I was in high school I used to be good in algebra (let's boast it, good in maths, period), and I could solve them one way or the other, I would go unconventional ways, get to the answer and go backwards and do it as was taught. I had been toiling at this question for hours now, I couldn't let it go, I had to solve it, it was for my pride now. It was really frustrating, I was getting no where as the hours ticked. So may be after 4 or 5 hours, I gave up and sent a message to one of my friends, who is an engineer, saying I need help with a mathematical question. He calls me up, we are video chatting, and I read the question out to him. He is like " aha, aha,.... Okay... You said this, okay, aha" and tick tick tick, not even a minute since I r