Sunday, December 9, 2012


I usually dwindle between my violent and silent nature, and it's only after I let myself free to a great extent that my violent side would come out, or after repressing my free self for too long. I realized violence is in action, in words, in thoughts and even in music.

I have watched the movie "Rockstar" for around 10 times selectively, twice and rest of the times, in parts. While on one hand I like Jordan's honest confession of his being unable to understand and appeciate classical music, I also like his violent expression of frustration in 'Saada Haq'. At the same time I like the observant nature that Shammi Kapoor has at Hazrat Nizamuddin and the simplicity with which he admits of Ranbir being a bigger animal than Piyush Mishra cn hold in his cage.

I liked the way the song 'Faya Kun' has been picturized at the Dargah and the way Shammi and Ranbir shoot at the symphony.

I like the pain that the song 'Nadaan Parinde depicts'. The desire to fly back home, the desire to get rid of the loneliness, the desire to have the eyes left from predators, so that they can still witness the return of the beloved.

I feel my desire to return home, resonating with that of the song. I feel the frustration of being unable to fulfill that desire. I feel the frustration of being a wanderer. I also wish I was more rational, when I finally let my emotional self let go.

I can't think logical at times. I regret being over rational and logical at other times. I wish I was more of someone who was at least sometimes at peace with herself. Perhaps Sandeep is right, I am at a war with myself and I have a lot of anger that I need to let go of.

I wish I could forgive myself at times, just let go of myself and be at peace with myself for who I am; emotional, sensitive, paradoxical, impulsive and at the same time compassionate and responsible. I wish I was not forced and did not let myself be forced to become that which I am not.


Let all of us be who we are,
and yet,
accept us for who we are.

Help us stay away from,
being violent to ourselves and others.

Help us love ourselves, just as you love us.


Thursday, October 11, 2012

Getting back in a habit

So, ages later when you finally come to your blog link again, it's difficult to write in a sync. I have a writers' block these days. I'm trying to overcome it. The easiest way I find is to start writing as a routine, even if two lines a day. Once I get into the habit again, I guess my thoughts also would start flowing past the bottleneck.

At this moment all I want to do stay stay off alc. somehow. It's not like I drink regularly or daily, any longer. I had started to do so for almost 10 days till a fortnight ago. But thanks to my support systems, my friends pulled me out of it. I took a sacred vow, ended up breaking it once, but at least it's helping me stay in control.

I am a survivor,, I will get past this. I know this :) And when I say I am a survivor, it doesn't mean 'I' as 'I'. It means, all extensions of 'I' including family, friends, upbringing, support. EVERYTHING.


I thank Thee for the blessings you gave me.

Not often do I count them,

But I know without them I wouldn't sustain.

Bless all Your children,

with what You deem fit,

and lead them to sustenance with gratitude.

Make us humble Lord,


© Anu (Exploring Myself)

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Finally Back

After a long gap of almost a year, here I return!!! Life took away the better of me. I changed jobs, went through shit in life, on family front, personal, professional.

But, without boasting, as I've said many times, I'm a survivor!!! I survived and managed.

I managed depression, I managed alcohol abuse, I managed job changes. I am slowly getting back to healthy habits emotionally as well as psychologically too.

I'll start posting regularly I hope.

Till then,

Regards and thanks to all people who stuck by me.

Friday, September 30, 2011

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Friends in conflict with individuality?

Ok, so a little background first. I know it will sound a little gossipy, but I need to vent it out of my system.


I had three acquaintances-cum-friends.Imagine people who believe in a poly-amorous society, where almost everyone flirts everyone else and every one dates everyone else. So, let's call them A, B, C.

A who's a single young woman, elder to me was in a relationship with B, B was simultaneously courting C who was another woman of a similar age. A, B and C were all aware of each-other's presence in each other's lives. Things didn't turn out between A and B the way A wanted. So, she gets all furious and bitchy about C as well as B as well as the woman B finally gets attached to (let's call this new woman D).

Now, I do not have a clue between A. B. C because they are all usually tight lipped n their personal lives and I don't poke in my nose where it's not wanted. It's AS SIMPLE AS THAT.However, I end up in a fix in the following manner....

A posts something very offensive about C on the public forum (think of someplace like face book) where most of us usually interact with. I do NOT know the background. I end up commenting on it in a very general way. The some days later A tells me that the offensive words were a personal attack on C. I feel manipulated. I felt that something I said in a spirit of fun and humor, was portrayed as support of A in a personal warfare against C. I felt duped by A because if it was a personal attack, she should have either educated me (in case she was looking for a support from me), or should have removed my comment from there. She had done neither. And I had ended up hurting C.

Then some days later A and I talked with it again. And I told her she shouldn't have slandered someone on a public forum. She said C and B used to play games. I told her it didn't matter. One's personal dignity is one's own responsibility. A said she knew it looks bad, but she doesn't care and she's happy as she is and she doesn't need my advice.She also said apparently she was drunk.

Three months later. C posts on some other thread that the offensive words don't help even if they are used behind the shield of pms, mood swings or other such. I see this as an opportunity to apologize to C (remember I am NOT thinking about A, because I am NOT a part of their personal war, whatever it is, I care not!!!). so, I admit to C on the same post that I agree it's bad to call names, I called someone a similar name and I regret it now (I mention none of the parties involved)

A thinks I am cruel. WOW!!! Thinks I'm not a friend, I don't support, I am picking on her and shattering to pieces (she seems to be having lots of issues with other common acquaintances/friends as well)


Now my perspective,

  1. I take people at face value. Unfortunately for me, I expect the same.
  2. The fundamental value system I hold is - I avoid poking my nose into who does what with whom? who sleeps around with whom? who is marrying whom, unless I am invited to OR unless all parties are common friends and tell me themselves about it. Summary - I don't like, understand or participate in typical gossip. Friendly banter is different however.
  3. When I first got involved in the feud, I was completely unaware of it being a personal attack, but it was however taken by me in a completely different context. A WAS AWARE of this. But she didn't play the friend and/or reproach me then. Rather she manipulated me.
  4. Had I known it was a personal attack, I'd run miles away from it, till the related people settled it among themselves.
  5. When I came to know the reality, it was too late to apologize, because I couldn't figure out how to do it to C.
  6. I told A clearly it wasn't the right thing to do and she chose to overrule how I felt.
  7. At my opportunity, when I apologized publicly for the mistake that I had made, without absolutely any reference - A feels offended and questions not only my fundamental integrity but also my friendship and support.

Here's what support means to me:
  • It is unbiased.
  • It has to be justified in my eyes.
  • It has to be in a manner that it doesn't hurt people.
  • Support does NOT equate to taking sides in inter-personal conflicts of a personal nature.
Apparently, A doesn't understand this. But I am not going to let her play with my guilt conscious. I am still A's friend. I DO wish her good from the deepest of my heart. BUT, I a not someone who'd compromise on my personal value system for the sake of a friend who chooses to manipulate me for her own reasons and then play with my guilt when she's at the disadvantage.

Between friends and personal integrity, I make a choice to choose the latter and accept the consequences. And I might *feel* guilty about it, but I'm not going to give in to the guilt.

I wish you understood me better A.

© anu (Exploring Myself)

Sunday, May 8, 2011

The Memoirs of a Geisha

Ok, so another 5hours down the day and I managed to read a soft copy of the book titled above. When I started, I was wondering what would it be, but by the time I finished it, I was glad I managed to read it. I had once heard, or may be read in some editorial somewhere (I need to believe that I have started forgetting minute details henceforth). So, getting back to the original thought, I once read - ' It is said that The Japanese Geisha can even take away and ease the pain of a Man's Soul' That was the day, when I first got curious about who and what a geisha was. But, then I formed a high opinion of it.

It was some odd 10-15 days ago that a friend gifted me with a soft copy of the book and I read it three ( ? )OK, 3-4 days ago. And today I re-read it quickly again in the evening later. I must admit, it did drive me off to google more about Geiko, Geisha and the culture, which I finished doing just before posting this note.

The culture **IS** soothing. It's almost spiritual, though its setting might not be. While to begin with, the girls might have been sold into prostitution and yes, there's the dark side of sold sexual slavery (legal on top), there however, is also an enthralling and detailed glimpse into how different prostitution is from being a Geisha and how a 'mistress' and a Geisha are different as well.

The Plot is simple - two sisters sold to a brothel, one kept to be a geisha, another ends up like a prostitute. The one training to be a Geisha, meets a popular Geisha in the house she stays and is trampled over by the senior Geisha, till her prospects are hopeless and she runs off to find her sister lured under a trap. Lucky to find the sister, they plan to succeed, while all that happens is that the girl is discovered and her Geisha training is stopped completely, for she cannot be trusted to make fortune any longer.

Through an unforeseen turn of events, Chiyo-chan's training restarts under a 'successful' Geisha till she becomes Sayuri, to have her old friend turned against her, her prospectives ruined, her mizuage raising a fortune and her being adopted as the daughter of the house to become 'Nitta Sayuri'.

How through the stumbles of her life Chiyo-chan, now Nitta Sayuri, survives war, survives one Danna (honestly only a horny and pot-bellied general, I imagined him to be, nothing better ) and another want to be Danna till she finds that her old friend now is revengeful and spoils her prospects with the Man she wanted as her Danna.

Hope finally returns to Geisha when she discovers that her desired Danna has discovered her devotion to him, and that the only man who knew her both as Chiyo-chan and Sayuri is finally about to embrace her for ever. She spends happy years after a financial arrangement is made by her now Danna with her Home, for sometime. After this, she decides to open a tea-house in the America, for she wants her Danna's family and daughters happy and married, while staying out of their way.


Now, like I said above, the plot is nothing extraordinary. The setting a little, but the most extraordinary are the insights and the statements along with the author's observations (the novel is autobiographic in narration). The realization that a tea-ceremony could be as serene as a worship ritual for a Geisha. That there were beautiful Geisha, popular ones and the successful ones. How sccess and popularity differ and what really means to be a Geisha. How tough the path is, but if you succeed, how rewarding too. On the other hand, how it can be completely destructive as well.

What I liked pointedly were two things:
* It's correlation with D/s lifestyle without mention of kink or over mention of sex and,
* The realization that spirituality is not in the act you perform but the spirit you perform it with.

And of course, a realization of how privileged I was in one way to enjoy a life of such luxury. And at the same time, how deprived, without the cultural upbringing that certain women manage to get (even when I pride myself for all that I know, in terms of art and activity as compared to many others).

And then, to top it all, was the realization that what I actually was being, was a competitive person, while a Geisha (in spirit, rather than dress and acts she performs - both sexual and non-sexual) cannot exist without humility and support from other Geisha :)

Long post? not sure, just a few reflections though:)

© anu (Exploring Myself)

Saturday, April 30, 2011

V for Vendetta

"Remember, remember
The fifth of November
The gunpowder treason and plot.
I know of no reason
Why the gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot."

This is the verse with which the movie opens. The movie I've watched obsessively for over 20 times. The movie attracts me because? Because it declares the importance of free thought and decision over the brainwashing. Because it exposes what the so-called governments do to their subjects, misusing the trust placed in them. Because it tells me (dramatically though), how an individual, an idea can stay and survive till it reaches the culmination it intends.

I was obsessed for some time, looked for quotes and longer recitations by V. Thought of copying some on cards, printing them out as posters and then decided against it. I googled and wiki-ed V for Vendetta, Guy Fawkes and what not!!! (I wonder where would I find books with this info, if there weren't any internet?) And I realized, I'm not an anarchist, nor a victim, or a rebel for that matter.

And nor was V. I am just a simple, common person, struggling to make this world a better place, like all others who do. However, the worst like Evy says, comes when people try making things better. And now, I have become a passivist (now is that a valid word? ).

I feel an internal conflict - the conflict of the right and the not-so-right (I hardly ever think in terms of wrong), expressing itself this time in terms of contributing to the society or the ethical egotism?

I have so far been kind of brainwashed against brainwashing. If you understand what I mean, you'll probably understand why am so anti-isms/anti-ist. But, that becomes secondary when I read books like 1984 and watch movies like V for Vendetta.

The first time, I saw the movie, I wanted to write so much, the second time, lesser. But I with my writers' block, couldn't write even a word. Now, I'm however, surprised to see that I can't remember my thoughts that wanted to be expressed then. I am sure that what I'm writing right now, is certainly different from what I then thought. But nonetheless, I guess this is why I liked the movie:

In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition! The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. [laughs] Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you and you may call me "V".

Ok, so I happened to find a drafted post in my edit page.... and have ended posting that as well. But side by side,this goes along :)

© anu (Exploring Myself)

Writers' Block

So, I had this writers' block for last few months. Now let's see...2months 23 days technically, and approximately four months to be non-technical but close to accurate.

Reasons? Oh Loads!
  1. I went through a series of depressive phases, the last one ending some 20 days ago.
  2. I went through a hell lot of emotional and sentimental instability, both generated by and generating the depression
  3. I was busy 'trying' to study for exams.
  4. I was busy writing exams with moderate or low preparation, but apparently performing OK-ish. I am expecting an OK-ish percentage, but I'm hoping that it would be more than the bare minimum required for further studies after M.A.
  5. After I finished my exams, I gradually started coming out of the stress, depression and to my shock realized that my skin was full of marks, (the psychosomatic indication of my stress, other than sleep and eating irregularities).
  6. 6 Last 18-20 days, I've been hyper-maniac, sleeping only on an average 3-4 hrs a day in total. Except two days - when I slept 16 and 12 at a stretch respectively.
  7. I also joined a couple of hobby classes, which should (assuming I don't bunk), keep me busy for around 10 hours a day, including the travel time.
  8. Last few days, I've been thinking like hell and reading as well, along with scribbling loose notes, as if my tail's on fire. However, putting everything down sequentially hasn't been happening for quite some time.
  9. Something finally happened last night that got me out of this block and I'm glad to have gotten rid of it. (content sigh)
So long, till then. (I have to figure out this usage. Do we use these two phrases together? Anyone who's aware, please be kind to share with me too)

© anu (Exploring Myself)

Tsunami in making ?

It leaps high,
unsure of what to destroy,
calms down again.

And one day,
a whisper,
a word,
makes it rise higher than what can calm down again.

Is it a tsunami in making?

© anu (Exploring Myself)

Monday, February 7, 2011

Madhushala and Manna Dey's rendition

It's been some days before I watched this. And I've completely forgotten what I wanted to write. So, I guess, I should just leave this post with this link and a single-word comment :



© anu (Exploring Myself)

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

V For ?

So, here I was, watching this movie - V for Vendetta. I do NOT know who the cast and crew are. I do not even care to know. All I know is that I found inner peace, just an ounce of it, while watching this movie. And I have been trying to write this blog post since..? perhaps more than a fifteen days. This is not the first time, when I haven't been able to write something that's constantly been boiling in my head. There are times, when I cannot concentrate on anything.

So, here I was, watching this movie - V for Vendetta. I do NOT know who the cast and crew are. I do not even care to know. All I know is that I found inner peace, just an ounce of it, while watching this movie. And I have been trying to write this blog post since..? perhaps more than twenty days. This is not the first time, when I haven't been able to write something that's constantly been boiling in my head. There are times, when I cannot concentrate on anything. And perhaps this was one of them.

I remember my brother asking me to watch the movie and saying it's about an idea that survives even centuries later, manifests itself in another human being, different from the propogator of the idea. And hence it's about that. And I thought it'd be about political/financial overturning, some stupid drama and denied watching it.

However, one fine day, I had no other movie in my laptop to watch and ended up watching it. watched it for fifteen days before I started with A beautiful mind. What I like the best about V for Vendetta is this:

The recognition and opposition of the social conditioning, about a man's feelings, needs, sexuality, religious preferences and almost everything. In the movie it's mostly political. In my head, it was primarily social and self-inflicted. The way an individual is socially structured. Born, brought up, mind-washed, conditioned. So deeply made to believe certain things, that they start eventually thinking of those things/ideas as a part of who they are. They don't even realize that the ideas were external to begin with.

© anu (Exploring Myself)

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Jewelery pics 1.

Ok, so this is what I've made recently. I'm sure some of you have already seen the pics. For the rest here they are :)

© anu (Exploring Myself)

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Dated: 01.12.10

So, I had slept at around 10:30 last morning, in fact even earlier. To be honest, I hadn't slept, but had just dozed off. By the time I had woken up it already was 3:30 and I worked and blogged the schedule post out here. I worked till around 9:00 in the morning, before I took my breakfast break. So basically though my schedule started half an hour early, it was actually all through an hour late. I had lunch at 2 instead of 3 and was working till 6:30/ 7:00 p.m. barring a small conference with a few friends :) before I managed to go out to the market to get some more jewelery raw material :)

And to add to it, I actually managed to earn a day off from my manager for studies today:) And he wasn't sarcastic :D Geez!!!! So running off to bed with some old stupid poetry/fiction for another 3 hours before dozing off to bed:)

God, it feels like all my fatigue is now going to wash over me.

I know Thee created nature with harmony.
Or, may be I do not know but have been told so.
Grant me,
the strength, the intelligence and the ability,
to strike harmony in my part of the world.
This I ask in Thy holy name.

© anu (Exploring Myself)

Time Schedules

So, here's what I've been really trying to do. I've been trying to organise my schedules, for study, work, sleep patterns, dietary habits and to stay out of depression before I land up at the psychiatrist's place. So, this is what my finalized time-table looks like:

04:00 - 08:00 - Work
08:00 -0 9:00 - Daily chores and breakfast
09:00 - 12:00 - Work
12:00 - 02:00 - Jewellery Homework
02:00 - 03:00 - Lunch and Travel to jewellery class
03:00 - 05:00 - Jewellery class and travel back home
05:00 - 08:00 - Study
08:00 - 10:00 - Dinner and chanting, extra reading/study/friends
10:00 - 04:00 - Sleep

Now, the only thing I really need to do is try and stick to this schedule. At any cost. I know I'd be in trouble if I didn't (figuratively, eventually as well as literally).

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

18-27 - Part 2

There happened two good things in 2006 when I was 22. One, I found a proper job, a structured framework, an organization, sense of competition revoked, against my colleagues. This job returned a bit of my self-esteem. This also made me socialize though only a little bit and also made me feel competitive and needy to perform. I was the best performer as a trainee for two months as well as an employee once I hit the floor actually, for another two months. In these four months, with unrestricted internet access, I re-discovered my love for reading.

The first book I read then was- Gone with the wind in a total of 8 hours, skipping my breaks, requesting extra shift from my manager and what not. Then I read Jane Eyre and other books by the Bronte sisters. And by the time I was four month old in an organization, working on a salary of 10 K bucks and the youngest employee and also one of the best performers across the organization, I realized, this wasn’t where I belonged to.

I submitted my resignation which wasn't accepted. I waited two days, let my salary be credited, swiped my account clear and left the job, gone! Vanished, declared absconding (thankfully this doesn't cause ground for legal action in India). I came back home, got enrolled in an off-campus graduate program in humanities and against all odds and ends and voices of sanity chose philosophy, English literature and political science(for the lack of a better available third optional)

In the first year of my graduation I scored 75 percent marks in philosophy (something that had become for me a rare commodity). There were extra papers in environmental science, computers, compulsory English. I fared well in all of them. I managed a decent 60 something in English, 50 or something in political studies.

The second year was better, I went to Delhi again to work in a reputed MNC this time to earn enormous amounts as salary but four months later the job started taking heavy toll on me. What with 12 hours of days shift and 14 hours of night. No time to study, no leaves in the peripheral vision for examination. I quit, came back, studied for second year exams, and got 79 percent in Phil. and some average 50 percent something in English and Pol. Studies.

In the third and the final year, I joined a private Engineering college in my own town as a faculty for spoken English. The salary was a mere four thousand, but I was once again in my comfort zone. I was teaching again, content, happy, very much at peace with myself, at home within the campus and with the rest of the staff. I was the only female out there amidst all boys (students) and men (teachers). But six months later, we shifted our home to a place farther off. The change was welcome; I now had a room for myself. My personal space was better than earlier. I didn’t have to share a room with my younger brothers. But, I had to quit my job because my travel time increased to double and so did the fare.

It was also around this time, that I finally ended up in a long distance relationship with a Dominant Man in USA. And by the time the term ended, I was with an average of 83 in philosophy, and decent 60 something crossed in the other two subjects. I was happy, successful in terms of my degree and was a student of a very reputed institute, preparing for an MBA entrance exam, when I fell into my annual depression phase.

Once into it, I sat completely home locked, not wanting to go out anywhere, not wanting to do anything, not wanting to meet anyone. And then one fine day, I got a call from the institute and I was offered a trainer’s post there for communicative and spoken English. Once again, I was in my comfort zone. And then I was given the responsibility to teach the language section for the same exam that I was writing.

I was eventually given classes with the same batch as that of my fellow students and surprisingly they co-operated too well with me and it went fine. I was enrolled in an M.A. program and an executive MBA simultaneously. Eventually I discovered that I am not a corporate person and that it is only teaching that I have truly loved, after I gave up on trying being a doctor. So, I gave up on the MBA as well as the job and kept only to the MA degree. But two months before the exams I got cold feet and gave up on that too. So, one full year dropped again. I then finally stayed at home for another 8 months, working for small amounts, tit-bits, occasional classes, not studying, just thinking, making futile plans and doing nothing before I found some very supportive friends emotionally and morally and finally my current job.

It was also in these last four and a half years that I discovered lifestyle, could place my thoughts, orientations in place, get a perspective that whatever need for control I had in my routine life was not something weird but had a name for itself. It was in the last year that I also found a real group of people in India who follow different sorts of unconventional lifestyles and do not judge people. It was the past one year when I explored the possibilities of embracing my true nature as a person. It was however, around a month ago that I also found my mentor after a long series of faltering, failings, psycho-somatic illnesses, fractures and what not.

I know I have a whole life ahead of me. I also know I will fall, make mistakes, get hurt, but I also know I will survive, especially now that I have a strong support system.

© anu (Exploring Myself)

Friday, November 19, 2010

18-27 - Part 1

So, I was already 18, when I left school, nothing unusual there though. Except for the fact that my loner nature had already been established. I had already been subconsciously declared as a nerd, loner, multi-faceted and multi-talented individual with a sort of solitude and loneliness prominently visible. It was also, assumed that I was at peace with my being alone. There were germs of poetry. Literature and yet a desire to be a doctor and study medicine and psychiatry (eventually). But with failures creeping in on facts like having to quit math, lack of fee to pay for costly coaching classes.

I dropped four years to prepare for my pre medical entrance exam. I joined a graduate program once in the mean while, a B.Sc. in Biology. But gave it up. It wasn’t my place. I liked going to college, using library but I hated the batch mates, It was during these four years that my best friend of 7 years ditched me, by saying to her parents that I was the one who was being stalked by some guys (who actually were stalking me). These four years made me realize that honesty is the best policy, since my parents would know everything about me, my activities, my whereabouts.

It was the beginning of these four years that my life went through fire and flames and came out as something entirely different. I was re-diagnosed thrice with my depression and ALWAYS, I refused to take medication. It was the beginning of these four years that I was exposed to yahoo (by my younger brother) and the later part of these years that I bought my first mobile phone. But there’s something much more important (wrong usage I know), that I discovered.

It was - I started teaching. I taught students who were my immediate juniors. I taught senior school physics, chemistry, biology, because I wanted to learn. I knew I’d never be able to afford money enough to go and prepare for entrances outside my town. My town didn’t have good institutes till then. I had no friends, most of those who were with me got into engineering (the ratio of engg seats to medical being something like 12000 to 600 that time if I remember correctly). I didn’t have friends to discuss study with. I didn’t know which books to read, what depth to probe into and I took up teaching as an obvious and a clear solution to problems like these.

I remember the students’ parents would ask me – you’re so young. And I’d politely reply – I know, but what matters is my command on the subject. I was amazing with theory, especially physics, which I knew that I could never ever study again because I did not study Math in grade 12. My students would score well, even clear competitive exams, while I would year after year not succeed. The best I’d do was to fall short by a single mark, or to get a payment seat, or to be able to join something like a self-sponsored dentistry.

It was these four years however, when one of my teachers tried to seduce me, another wanted to lay me around and 2 batchmates disgusted me to no end, with their grossly materialistic and carnal proposals without even a twinge of feeling (Back then, I was EXCESSIVELY conventional, VERY stubborn and greatly judgmental). It was within these four years that I found the first love of my life (who later dumped me because he realized I’m not a would-be doctor anymore and that I do not look as beautiful as in the pics. And this after telling his whole family that he wanted to marry me. Funny, ain’t it? :)

But on the other hand, in 2005, amidst all this drama and lackluster life, I found a friend in a biology chat room in yahoo then. This was one of the first people who molded my life. Extremely intelligent, highly accomplished, pure in spirit and amazingly understanding, this Man (7 years elder to me?) brought me to an understanding of myself. He questioned me, probed me, made me think, answer his questions. He helped me explore much of the unexplored me. He helped me deal with what was negative, to encourage in myself what was positive. We met once and then lost contact. Ani, I still miss you :)

It was in these four years (towards the end) that I managed to save money, shift to Delhi for coaching and met my best friend till date, my best supporter of last 5 years and my current employer. We had a common friend introduce me. So, the last 6 months of my last drop, this friend introduced me to ISKCON, where I could find exactly the same reasoning as the one I had, exactly similar things as subjects of discussion like they were at Home. ISKCON was a home away from home.

I wrote my final attempt, did not succeed, took up a call centre job and decided I didn’t want to study further. This is when I turned 22, with a heart break, a broken friendship, a total of 2 seducing attempts, 2 disgusting offers, a long history of failures already, future bleak. I guess, I cannot cover this duration all in one go, so I will write a sequel to this section.

Till then,

© anu (Exploring Myself)

Back to Positive again

So, after I've vented off all my steam, my suppressed anger, my frustration at being insulted when I made all sincere effort to respect others, I'm much light. I needed to release myself from the emotional stress I create for myself. It's high time that I come to terms with my anger and accept that being angry is as natural an emotion as is being loving. It's time, I stop letting people treat me like a punch bag, whether in a good way or a bad one.

So, let me try and think of some positive things to happen, possibly or definitely.
  • My work is going OK.
  • My salary was in my account in time, decent amount.
  • My studies will begin soon by the end of December fully.
  • My manager / best friend promises that He will support me in every manner till exams, if I can really trust him and then will take me off to Singapore in April, once I'm done with exams, to be able to earn loads and of course I can come back again for M.A. Final exams and preparation. I can even get a PR there, if I can stick around. Two years of work there, the work profile on my resume, the options of career, studies, family finances everything is going to fall in place though this DOES mean that I will for now have to give up on JNU/IIM.
  • I have started jewelery making class and am doing well at it. As usual, a student that makes her teacher smile :)
Now, let me try and list down a few very important priorities:
  • Working sincerely
  • Supporting my Mentor in His guidance of me, with full devotion and commitment, no matter how many things/people/events distract me, no matter how many times, I might fail.
  • Keeping up with my art work
  • Studying once work is low.
  • Applying for a passport.
  • Save money.
  • Updating the list as and when explored.
That's all I guess for now.


My Damn Problem

I wanted to write this somewhere else, but then decided otherwise. Hurting someone is just not my type. At least not hurting them openly. But then I need my space to vent too. So, using this as that. I know this mail will end up in a few inboxes and to you, I have just one thing to say - Those who trust me, will understand and if they don't, they don't really really matter. Fortunately for me, you all do matter :)


To all those, who think they are respecting me by trying to help me, no you're not. Because first off, you don't even understand a bit of who I am, the way I think, the way I feel and you can never do that, because you will always see it in the usual context. I'm not special, but definitely not the usual stuff and I am proud of it.

Secondly, do not mistake my courtesy and politeness for my weakness or strength. Because it's none. It simply is that - nonchalant courtesy and politeness.

Third and the most important thing, if I distance myself from you because **YOU** asked me to, do not tell me that you respect my effort, because THAT (telling me about it) is disrespect to my efforts/effortless goodbyes. Do I sound clear? I seriously hope I do. If you want your space, respect mine It's as simple as that.

I do NOT confuse respect, politeness and courtesy. The moment you disrespect me or my efforts and no that doesn't mean asking me to fuck off or verbal assault or character assassination or whatever, but your gesture; you lose your respect. The more you do it, the more esteem you lose. We can coexist without any sort of need to indulge in each other's lives.

If I do not message you, it simply means that for me, you do not really exist or that your existence is of no interest to me. I am excessively communicative and open, so if I value your friendship or want it or desire it, I will state that upfront. Similarly if I desire distance, I will clearly indicate that as well. Also, if I need your help dealing with something, I will make sure that I tell you. If I do not, please do not presume.

I know I take time to get over things. I usually take a lot of time to move on. I open up completely when I do and that DOES make me vulnerable. Also, I find it very tough to move on, unless people leave me. This is something like, if a fucking loser says - I'm Your Dom and you cannot move on, no matter what -(even subconsciously, if not in words), I just cannot move on. However, Once I do, I do.

But please, and I mean this please, do not test my patience or self-control. Not even if you're the most valued person in my life, because even if you are, I will not say it once it's been rejected. It's your loss, deal with it.

You have all right to be inconsiderate, mean or rude to me. I do not do that, because it's not my nature. However, please do NOT presume that I cannot be a bitch. I just don't want to be, because I don't need to be.

This is to no one in particular, so don't bother asking. This is to all those endless number of people out there, who think their pity, support, help, kindness is what I need, once they've insulted and offended my feelings (specially when they treat it like something grossly physical and understand truly nothing about it because it has not tangibly materialized).


I wish You really well in all your endeavors. Really really well. I have absolutely NO malice in my heart for anyone. But, please do not disturb my personal space.

I hope you'll *respect* that. Truly.


And to all those truly valued and respected people, I might be a bitch sometimes, but trust me, I never want to hurt you ever, even if that means keeping myself from falling to pieces, or not being angry at people who violate my privacy.

Thanks for being around.

Creativity on multiple fronts?

So, here's what I recently made. Why? I do not know. I have this stupid character trait of channelizing my energy away from the negativity. Specially when the negativity tends to seep in from every nook and corner of my life. Through my eyes, when I see things and people;through my ears, when I hear them; through my nose, when I smell the fragrances that take me to nostalgia; through the touches, both craved for, and shirked away from; through the tastes of things that were pleasant in past and unpleasant later. My own words taste bitter on my tongue, my heart years for solace and my eyes are sore from crying.

What do I do at such times? Usually I wallow, I weep, cry, scream silently in agony, ending up hurting myself. This time, I decided to be different. I decided to take up a new hobby, add some sense of self worth to myself and my life. And the pictures are just the first day/first sample/first gift to one of my beloved friends, whom I gifted another set exactly identical to this one :)

Some people think, I'm unstable, unreliable, gullible, multi-talented but vastly distracted. I do not know if you believe in Horoscopes and astrology, but for those who do, my start-chart makes me such. I am not using this as an excuse. I DO try hard to focus, I really do. But, I usually function best when I multi-task. Is being myself (even if it means being weak, gullible, distracted, but my own self nonetheless), so so bad?

I do not know, but for now I bask in the glory of everything I do :) even if it's about making pearl strings.

© anu (Exploring Myself)

Sunday, November 14, 2010


Before I continue from 9-18, I guess, there’s something more from the zero-nine phase that comes to my mind.

I am told I was a violent kid with loads of anger. I would throw objects, I would be nasty, throw tantrums, but there was one thing I NEVER did – I never tore books. They were unconsciously sacred to me.

It was around 9 and a half years of my age, when I had my ma give birth to my youngest brother. Dad had to shift his focus from me to the one younger to me, what with his bad health, his, the new baby in the family, increasing financial expenses, shortage of space. We have practically spent some 15 years of our life in a single room and another ten in the main room and another rented in some or the other nearby location. Things started changing. I was happy and yet more and more fierce. My studies shot up in terms of scores and performance. Perhaps it was the competitive threat I subconsciously felt from the younger brother, or maybe it was the need for all that attention I missed from parents which was now channelized to the tuitions that dad would give and my youngest brother.

We were living with our aunt and uncle who stayed close by at that juncture in time. So, mostly our food would be cooked together and mom and aunt would take care of the baby, while dad would spend time with both of us. But I do remember that I was very possessive of my baby bro (I still am in some ways) and had fought the whole family once when it came to just a superficial talk of my uncle and aunt(who do not have any children, biological or adopted) adopting the child. I fought tooth and nail, hurt my father physically and made Him write on a paper with a one rupee stamp sticking to it that He would never give away any of his kids.

A childish tantrum though it may seem, the fact displays that I was never an easy to give away kid. I was always fiercely possessive. My younger brother and I had loads of issues between us. We would fight; he would give in or else fight back depending on his mood and the thing/object/privilege in question.

But there was this so prominent trait – We would never let an outsider speak in between. NEVER!!! We would always end up giving that same thing to the other which we’d been nastily fighting about. We’d always hug and apply ointment on the bite marks we’d caused.

But two years after this happened, I heard one of my classmates reciting a poem she’d composed herself and I was suddenly – competitive. I was in grade 6, around 12 and a half, suddenly realizing that if ‘this’ was what writing poetry was about, I could do it so much more better and I started writing. I continued wonderful marks, amazing poems (according to the age I was), played harmonium wonderfully well, leading all choirs in school, sang beautifully at devotional gatherings of up to 1000 people, was a good speaker-debater, orator, interested in art, literature, language, music, academics. Everything was perfect. Except a weird sort of loneliness that was slowly engulfing all of me.

I gradually started drifting away from the world around me, more into my own little corner. I wouldn’t go with other girls in lunch – time, I wouldn’t talk to many people, I anyways didn’t have a huge peer group I had just 3 friends from all grade 7 to grade 10. I would take additional responsibilities in school and yet try to be invisible. All I would care about was, what does my teacher think of me? What do I do? How do I perform? And, whether I am acceptable or not. Without anyone actually telling me that they had expectations from me, I started striving to fulfill expectations I thought they had (perhaps because when I’d be around them they’d talk of me in high terms treating as if I didn’t exist there, not realizing that there was vanity gradually creeping in which I would cover with my modesty). It wasn’t exactly vanity, nor was it purely modesty. It was a bizarre concoction of - being praised, wanting to defend that position, pride creeping in and a full realization to keep that pride toned down, because I knew pride is not a good thing.

And, I feel I missed the true carefree childhood. By an age of 14, my personality started showing deeply disturbing traits (which others either did not notice or else didn’t care to notice). I started showing perfect loner traits. I stopped talking to family about anything I felt/dealt-with in school. I would still talk about events, but never feelings. I would talk about successes, but never about failures. I was on surface same, but deep down more shelled up more withdrawn. I had a world of my own in which I had imaginary elder siblings who’d keep my training in regime, be firm with me, non-patronizing and yet caring and loving. In my imaginary world, I had no parents, my teachers and siblings were same and the education I received was holistic, though some of it I did not like. At the same time what had also changed was my biological development. With hormones in play, physiology changing, my emotions started becoming very pessimistic. My tendency to feel pain and think it was there, only because I deserved it, started growing.

Finally, it started reflecting as a psychosomatic problem in the form of dermatological issues. I started visiting a dermatologist. He treated me for two years, the medicines and steroids in turn causing other side effects, before he finally asked me to visit a psychiatrist. I denied and said that I needed a psychologist. He gave me a counseling session. However, results kept going down as compared to what they always had been, my irritability about my dad teaching my batch mates as a tutor and my feelings of comparison and loneliness kept on constantly increasing. A series of failures started and no one could understand why? Not even myself. I would blame parents, brothers, feel cheated, deprived of basic things like personal space, friendships. The single friend I made in standard 7 did stay my friend thus far.

In grade 11, I opted science with biology and maths as optional subjects only to discover that EVERY student in my class was going to extra tuition other than me. I constantly kept on failing in one or the other term exams and eventually I gave up Mathematics. I decided that I would never want to be an engg so I did not need math and I knew enough math to deal with physics and chemistry. I did not realize that I was closing my options to study physics too.

It was towards the end of the 11th grade and in the second half of my 17th year that I went to a psychiatrist for a project I did in biology and he diagnosed me. Asked me to conduct a meeting with my mother and explained to her that I was suffering from clinical depression, recommended me medication. However at that time, my relationship with my parents was perhaps as strained as it ever could be and it actually continued till an age of 22. My irritability increasing, my violence revealing on objects (thank God, I’ve never really hurt an individual except with words, and yes, I am not proud but I know I can really hurt bad :( ) But so far till 18, which was till I passed grade 12, these circumstances prevailed. Dwindling between successes in my performance in writing, literature and stage, grades dwindled from above average to good. And I passed school, left it with a few awards added to my already huge collection.

The remaining I guess, shall be in the next installment.

Till then,

© anu (Exploring Myself)

Saturday, November 13, 2010

My years 0-9

I do not remember much of my very initial years. I do remember things from an age of 2.5/3 years though, I guess. My parents do tell me that I was a hyperactive child, multi-faceted, inquisitive, curious, talkative and impressively intelligent when I was a kid. When I was born, I had something that worried them. They took me to the doctors and different doctors way back then (around 84-87) told them that it could / might lead to a lot of medical complications, like cerebral membranes’ inflammation and other things like a swollen head.

I was very young when I started talking and my dad says I had the kind of precise grasp over pronunciation which is rare to find at that age. Father also tells me, that I would speak and recite tough to pronounce Sanskrit texts and verses behind Him when he would sit and do his rituals and worship every day. He tells me, I would imitate not just the words but also the tone and the voice modulation. I was 2.5 years old when someone recommended that dad should make me learn music.

Dad took the advice seriously because of two reasons he says: 1. He was obsessed with the possibilities of me being unwell on the basis of the medical problem and hence wanted to provide me the maximum time and effort and best things in life that he could. 2. He noticed that I was sharp, intelligent and keen. So, He finally devoted himself to my well being, growth and development.

I do not remember my dad ever spanking, slapping, chastising me. He’s perhaps the kindest and yet the most upright father there could be. He taught me throughout the importance of a decent touch and the importance of being vocal, communicative. He taught me to embrace who I was. He taught me strength was a good thing, but it had to be controlled. He also taught me that my strength came not from denying who I was, but from embracing.

I remember Him telling me that being a woman was not about being week. It had nothing to do with gender. Just like He could be all maternal while still being a male and my mom could be all robust, active and doing all the tasks that needed to be done, in spite of the fact that dad was the decision making authority.

I have faint memories of my daily routine like dad waking us early morning, massaging our limbs and back with oil and bathing us and getting us ready while mom would finish the kitchen work. Dad teaching us or helping us memorize some more Sanskrit texts, grammar, math, science concepts and/or prayers, poems.

We would then be sent to school, initially by dad on his cycle, then in the school bus by mom at times and at later times by the auto rickshaw that would pick us from home and drop us back after school. Back then, dad was posted locally, would be back by then (when he was on an early shift in school, he was just a teacher then, not a head ), so we’d change, eat, take an afternoon nap, wake up, do the homework, usually I’d manage myself. Then he’d take me to a music teacher, come back, teach me language, grammar, math, read stories with me, talk about the people in the stories, the values, the morals, the ethics everything.

This routine as I remember was my routine till I was 10 years old. I remember, my younger brother was born when I was around two and a half years old. My grandmother helped me change at home and when I asked about ma (I call my mother ma, though we called her mummy when we were young and my father papa), I was told she’s gone to hospital to bring my brother and would be back in a few hours. When I got up from the afternoon nap, my mom hadn’t yet come back and I started crying. I clearly remember my eldest uncle giving me a chocolate and talking to me about school and so many other things to distract me. We lived in a joint family then. My grandparents would spend some time at the pilgrim spots nearby and some home. My uncles (2 of the three) and aunt (1 of the two I had) used to stay in the same house.

If I started rambling, I could go on and on and on about my childhood, there’s just so much of it. But when my mom finally came home, she had a beautiful baby with her – my brother. I do not really remember how we were raised in His first few years, those memories are fuzzy in fact blank and I’m surprised why. I do remember that he started talking early too and was equally sharp. And I remember that whenever I’d take ages to drink milk, he’d say jiji (sister), hurry up, drink it fast!!! (in his stuttering, baby voice) and I’d be irritated like hell. He used to suckle his thumb, would dress just like me, but I’d sometimes bully him. We fought a lot, but we’d always share all the things. In fact my parents always brought two of everything they brought.

He started going to school and music class when he was 2.5/3 too, and at a young age he was diagnosed with hypermyopia. It was then I was diagnosed with the same too. We both looked very similar way back then and people often mistook us for twins, with similar clothes, similar heights, chubby round, beautiful faces and thick glasses :)

I remember I gave my first public speech addressing an audience of 500 at 3.5 again I was then covered in almost all local and a few national dailies. Sometimes big front pages, sometimes small columns. I wrote my first poem about my brother’s habit of suckling his thumb at 6, which my dad kept as a precious memory and then it got lost some years ago :)

The speeches, stage and music never stopped, nor did the reading. after those smaller versions of stories from scriptures, next came lives of religious devotees, then best classics of world translated to Hindi and abridged versions. Followed in translated Bengali literature, Gnanapitha award winning novels from Hindi and other regional languages. Debates, speeches and everything else would always be in HIndi, education, study and school in English. Mom working on spellings, math problems, practice papers as dad would guide her to make us do them :) We siblings fighting, pulling hair, biting, digging nails and then going out for sports on sundays, to the nearby garden, swings.

However, there’s one thing I prominently remember now. I had a doll, which often would be my mother and take me to an imaginary doctor. Sometimes, it was the daughter and I would take her to the doctor. The doctor would always be me. And I would talk myself to sleep. My brother and I would play a household and I’d ask Him to dictate dinner menus and I’d ask Him to do the masculine work and let me do the feminine tasks :)

I don’t remember having any friends. I was in a missionary girls’ school and I remember having loads of jealous girls and classmates who’d wonder why my parents, teachers, senior girls and even their parents lavished so much attention, awe and respect towards me. They were always willing to chuck me out of play groups, even when I tried to join in and after I got specs, it got all the more tough. I remember that I had lost control on urination once when I was 9.5 if I remember correctly, though there was a small course of medicine my parents got me and things were back to normal. But that might have been for other reasons now I think of it. But that’s another story. So, remaining for the next installment :)

© anu (Exploring Myself)