Strong waves of intense desperation keep hitting me on and off, for some reason or the other, several times a day. Some of them leave no stones unturned to mercilessly drag me to the brim of a nervous breakdown, but I often save myself through a temporary escape to a strange makeshift surrounding, to shred my very stressful present and start afresh.
Sudden and unforseen desolations are never uncommon in our lives and I am no different. But sometimes they grow intense and uncontrollable, especially when I am strongly blamed for no reason or when trampled under a bunch of worthless advises from people around, be it my immediate family or the much strange this-and-that people I get to see each day. I am no stranger to being underrated and unrewarded at workplaces and have outgrown the stages of grumbling and crying my heart out for being unappreciated and unrewarded for what I do.
Now I don’t shed tears on being called irrelevant and do not express my anguish for being unappreciated. Instead, I put a visibly strong and bold face to deal with the despairs, making sure not to curse my stars for the repeated failures that I get to face, often for no reason of mine. What’s left is an unexplainable numbness which has stuck my brain with its full strength and vigour leaving me visibly reaction-less to every single blow that I face. But if you ask me what goes on deep inside my heart, the resource of words that I have is insufficient to put out how badly I feel. On a personal front, I am more familiar with let-downs than contentedness the reason why I have now become well groomed to take in everything with a pinch of salt. That being said, I must also admit that sometimes my saneness gets so badly hit, and that’s when I enter a brief escaping mode.
On reaching the level of saturation, I so badly yearn to run away until things settle down clearly in my brain. This is when I switch to the escaping mode, where I dream about flying off to some of my favourite places, mostly some of those hustling and bustling metros where I can effortlessly vanish in to the very fast moving crowd. Imagining me busily writing for some of my favourite companies is yet another phase of the fleeing mode, where I see a happy and contented me working my ass off yet earning well enough to fulfill all my dreams.
The runaway mode is quite good for the mind and keeps me off from the impacts of distresses, small and big. By the time I get back to normalcy, I would be at peace to rationally attune myself to compromise to where I am and what I face, grabbing by senses and moving on with whatever hope I am left with. Though it may sound way bit silly and irrational, for me, it’s a workable potion to sooth my grieving mind and make me walk past some of those sorrowful days.
Seeing myself busily walking through the pavements of beautiful city, imagining myself writing for a well-known company, picturing myself getting wholeheartedly appreciated for my writings, visualizing myself walking contentedly with a decent paycheck, envisioning myself living that fairy tale life with the man of my dreams; I know they are all too much impossible to think about, yet I dream in my escaping mode, and dream big, even for the momentary happiness and saving a little of it for a long term hope that someday at-least a few of those would turn out true.
I don’t share any of my woes as I hate being a complainer, nagging everyone I know, the reason why I hardly disclose myself to anyone, be it my parents or other family members whom I am close to. The blog has always been a good platform to give vent to my thoughts and feelings, the reason why I’ve made most out of it all these years, without being too divulging. Yet, writing my way out gives me a sense of unaccountable sooth and calmness, along with the strength to move forward boldly. So does the temporary fleeting mode where I dream myself to tranquility.
Those who read me regularly might find it a bit odd that I lament quite a lot sometimes, and I shamelessly admit I do, as my blog is the only friend I have on earth to listen to my blabbers, no matter how senseless and boring they are.
Having a wholesome array of well garnished and delectable gastronomic varieties would undeniably be the most wonderful delights for both mind and stomach. But I must continue to keep reminding myself that I am supposedly on a weight watchers diet, and should never get tempted to gorge on foodstuffs that add more calories to my already expanding frame. Taking time off to treat my palate to delicious and calorie filled food stuffs has always tumbled my dieting plans but I never get over that addictive habit of falling for gorgeous looking and scrumptious foodstuffs. One such is the perfectly rounded and tastefully layered burgers; garnished with neatly cut vegetables and served with lip-smacking ranges of hot chilli and tomato sauces.
I got to taste this western fast-food after reaching my big city which is rich in both posh as well as street-side bakeries that serve a whole range of delectable snack selections – a feast both for the eyes and for the palate. The curvaceous, captivating and truly satiating burgers are neatly arranged and kept on noticeable spot, to invite the attention of every hungry customer who enters with much anticipation, looking for a quick bite, possibly a low-key decent snack which is not pricey.
To be frank, at the very first glance, burgers we not as appealing as I felt it would be. But slowly felt a strong tantalizing feeling deep inside my belly that lured me to munch-on one of those appetite inducing uber-popular snack, beautifully stacked spicy patties and attractive slices of cucumber onion, and tomato. There was no craving at first, but a few bites did make me love the tangy flavours and seasonings as well as the satisfying taste of vegetables. Within no time I found myself falling for that curvy newfound snack which was unquestionably wholesome and tasty beyond words.
I was served a flavour-packed Indian version, a fusion snack with rich, exotic, and mouth-watering flavour of savoury and spicy deep friend veg patty wrapped in two soft buns, and served with tomato sauce. As I was unaware of the original taste of a burger, my first burger experience awesomely suited my very Indian palate.
A dense and filling fast food variant that I cannot easily find in bakeries back in my home town, burgers served in my big city are invitingly addictive, and incomparably delectable. Every other chef or restaurateur here are experts in making burgers, be it in the very classical way or custom-made to suit our palate.
Although I am far from being completely obsessed with this wonderfully layered eatable in multifarious varieties, the fixation for well grilled burgers are quite common among both the young and old around me. Burgers are no more side-lined as the quintessential American food, but considered very much a part of Indian gastronomic varieties. A widely chosen staple snack choice, burgers are always uniquely tasty, the reason why most of us continue to embrace this veritable king of all snacks available these days.
Those who are keen on finding the Indian version can perhaps look for a vada pav vendor who can serve you a spicy Indian Burger or the Vada Pav, teamed with tangy chutneys. Round deep fried potato balls are sandwiched between two pavs or buns smeared with garlic, chutney, and butter, making it one of the most liked fast food varieties in India, truly exceptional and remarkably tasty. Try it out soon and you will thank your stars for this delectable and addictive Indian version of burgers.
What is happiness or what exactly makes you happy in life? I know it’s a short question but has perhaps the longest answer that one can ever find. But is happiness based on your riches or materialistic achievements? Well, it’s neither of these, but the blessings that make you live the way you are, when many other who are more deserving than you cry their heart out and pray for being half as lucky as you are. Yet, we the humans, never say we are happy, but keep counting on what is missing from our lives, and blabber about the unfulfillment of a ton of selfish dreams. If I happen to count on mine, there would be endless broken dreams in my kitty; the much cherished ones that shattered away at various stages of my life. Yet I hardly count them and cry over spilled milk, instead try to live contented with what life has thrown at me. I am no exception to easily ditch and forget my broken dreams, but prefer to nurse my wounded soul with the balm of contentment from what I have in hand. Still, I sometimes falter and fall in to the ditch of distress, but soon rise ferociously from the ashes, as I know that I have to face the stumbling blocks all alone, walk or at times run my way to victory.
Whenever I see myself falling down to the ditch of sadness, I forcefully make myself count my blessings and make my mind believe that I am one of those lucky ones who shouldn’t lament but be joyous that I am truly blessed with countless things that are making my worth living. But as I said before, at times, the very human vulnerability to err make my mind shift to distress and worry on some of the problems that surround me. Yes, I sometimes cry my heart out for things that are beyond my control, but later get back to the road of hope, forcefully look at the better side of my life.
This is the third month of another extended year, and I am stuck-up with a number of worries, right from the dawn of the year. As my ‘bread-n-butter’ are severed in a frustratingly delaying time-span, I literally struggle everyday, to live-on with the limited ‘portion’ that I have in hand, cutting on many things that I long for, so that I can live a content life and at the same time save for myself a sizable quantum for the coming days. Although I’ve always had the dream of climbing the professional ladder on a swift pace, to becoming a stellar professional, I stand way too low on the ladder now, even after being equipped with strong arsenals of skills and experience. Thus I have a not so appealing graph, the reason why doldrums and anger intermittently monopolize my senses and make me taste the salt of my tears.
On a personal front I do have my own share of joys and sorrows, but at the same time have a very long singlehood that always sends in terrifying tingles that force me see some of the scariest nightmares of being left alone in the world, ending up in one of the old age homes. As we have one in our hostel, I am used to seeing the unsaid and unheard sorrows of a lot of old women who’ve been forced to live here, far away from their families. As I see them engrossed in their solitude, remembering the bygone days and shedding tears in silence, I cannot help but think about myself and the scare in my mind grows manifolds, overpowering all the delights that I should count on.
But if you ask me whether I am happy, I will undoubtedly say that I am as I am a contented person by ‘default’. However, it’s also true that at times, I cannot help but get fueled by some of these harsh realities that make me distressed and insecure occasionally, until I force myself to count on the better things, and drag me out of the pain. Therefore, defining happiness, in my case, has more or less become a complexity with a range of entangling thoughts and reasons that keep shifting my mind constantly from one to another. But as I said before, the overall result is always a happy me, as I have two main reasons to think so – I am blessed in very many ways, and I have to be happy and positive to move on and scale greater heights in life.
So is that a forcefully created one? To an extent it is. Because, I cannot plunge in to my sorrows and lose myself in the darkness of anguish, but has to walk through sharp stones and piercing thorns that life keeps throwing at me. And what continues keep me moving in that tough journey of mine is nothing but the pillar of positive thoughts that can make me latch on to the very core truth that I am blessed in very many ways when compared to a million others around, and can definitely hope for a day when the distressing problems take leave, leaving me some happier outcomes. For that reason, I continue to say this – Yes, I Am Happy! Yes, My Life Is Beautiful, In Spite Of All The Short-Term & Long-Term Worries That I have!
Tantalizing foodstuffs always fascinate me with its attractiveness and aroma but has never induced a craving for meat, the reason why I continue to bump on to the very same questions that most of my friends have been having since the day they bumped on to me – Why am I a vegetarian, in spite of having easy access to a whole lot of varieties of eateries with endless range of meat dishes or gastronomic surprises which are supposedly very appetizing and palatable. To put it shortly, they are yet to find out the possible reason why I don’t get fascinated or rather enticed by the much talked about scrumptiousness of non-veg cuisines that I get to see.
A very genuine inquisitiveness, but I have nothing else to say other than my dislike for meat eating, which although is a bit health related. As this topic continues to take its inevitable place in most of our very usual and casual conversations, I’ve always tried to decipher how one can be enticed to savor something, just based on hearsays or looks. I have many of my friends who try to ‘allure’ me to have a bite of meat delicacies, by seating me by their side and showing the ‘attractively’ coloured and perfectly blended meat cuisines with classic seasonings that spread their aroma all over the place, inviting those around to relish the well spiced and well served dish, and polish the plates off quickly. Although they are mostly fresh flavoured and well-cooked to perfectness, I really don’t get drawn to them, just because they belong to the category of foodstuffs that I never wanted in life. No matter how well they are cooked, garnished and adorned, I can never be blindfolded about the fact that they have the meat of a once living being.
I never lecture any of my meat-eating friends about the endless advantages of vegetarianism, but meat eaters have always reminded me of the horrifying pictures of cannibals, werewolves, and vampires that have almost terrified me to death in my childhood days. As they continue to bite and tear off the meat slices from their plate, I look at them carefully and plunge myself in to the hallucination of seeing two large Dracularian canines growing down from both the sides of their jaws, with hot blood drenching down from each one of them. I know it’s just a childish illusion, but still find it hard to look at my friends while they happily relish meat delicacies, as I can’t stop myself from imagining those scary and vampirish canines on their faces.
Although I am mostly shunned as an outcast for my vegetarianism, I care a damn about what others have to say about my eating habits. This in no way means that I try and make purposeful efforts to demonize the impacts of meat eating. Yet when I get to see people who follow both carnivore as well as omnivore diets, I cannot help but notice some very common behavioral patterns and visibly cantankerous reactions that are rare among vegans. So does that show a correlation between anger and meat eating?
As my friends continue to depict vegetarianism as a pitiable suffering, being a hard-core vegetarian, I can definitely say that I have an enviable eating regimen that’s far from pitiful. I am not delving in to the statistics of longevity or good health, but have always felt the visible reactions of a thankful stomach which is happy for not making it a sepulcher for animal meat in one form or the other. Though I hang out with friends occasionally and watch them savouring meat dishes with extreme delight, I don’t find them genuinely tempting and appetizing as their vegetarian counterparts, which are more inviting and flavorsome. But at the same time I can’t help but feel a vampirish panic when looking at my friends savouring bite sized meat pieces with immense joy. As they stare back at me in wonder and continue munching on the meat cuisines, I continue to gaze back at them with my curiosity, looking for the moment when I get to see those large canines growing down their jaws, with ever dripping blood.