LIFE, AFTER YOU STOP BEING A SOYA BEAN

“Never miss a party...good for the nerves--like celery.” 

― F. Scott Fitzgerald, Gatsby Girls

“Oh my God, there are so many people here! Why are there so many people on this planet? I need to go back and sleep; alone time is so important!” is something I usually think every day; 12 hours a day, I actually do get my alone time. Frankly, I’m so obsessed with the concept of ‘alone time’ after I came to college, that it took me an entire semester to realize that I had stopped socializing. 

Let me give you an example of how much I’d stopped participating in group activities. Recently, we had our college fest. Now, no matter where you are, no matter what you’re studying, no matter which grade you are in- school or college; fests are a very big deal! Everyone wants to participate, everyone wants to contribute; everyone except me. Why? Well, ‘too many people’ worked as a standard excuse. So when I actually looked around and realized I was pretty much the only one not contributing to the fest, I fell into my own guilt trap. After hours of contemplating, I decided I’d sign up to paint the Quadrangle (which is the empty space in the centre of the college, painted according to the theme of the fest every year), and somehow, I didn’t feel bad about it. Because 1. I love painting; LOVE isn’t even the word, but let’s just stick to that for now! 2. Because it is easy for me to zone out people when I paint, and 3. It was in the night, which meant I would get extra perm time, and I could enter my hostel at midnight without getting kicked out! It all seemed great and fell into place perfectly, and for the first time, I was sort of excited about something related to college. On the first night of painting the Quadrangle, I silently walked into the college, and tried to find a place to sit and decide what and where to start painting. And then, this happened: one classmate of mine who happened to notice me shrieked out in shock and everyone started clapping. Why? Because I was out in college, ‘contributing’ for the first time! 

Let me make one thing very clear here. They thought I didn’t show up because I was lazy; that’s not true. I was not lazy; I was ignorant towards it. Of course I joined in and laughed it off and continued my work, but this incident made me realise that my presence in college activities was so rare, that it was considered a sight when it actually happened. After this, I constantly began participating in more activities. Even though I internally despised it, I pushed myself to shut up, stop thinking, and go ahead and do it. After two months of constantly pushing myself into accepting this behaviour, I am glad to say, it was one of the best decisions I ever took.

In my school, I was a part of everything! So much that the teachers asked me to ‘participate’ in studying more, and not come to school just to be a part of extracurricular activities, or to socialize with people. I don’t really know how to explain this, but once I entered college, I decided to take a break from ‘participating’, and give some time to ‘contemplate’ things, and what I didn’t notice is that it had turned into an obsession, and I’d actually stopped participating. 

I hadn’t really thought about it positively, till now. Thinking out loud, expressing ideas, contributing and participating with real or fake enthusiasm; they have their perks. Most of the people who I consider significant in my life belong to this category and I find myself constantly fascinated by them. Honestly, if given a choice, I would choose socializing over alone time now. There are so many people around which also means- so many behaviours, so many personalities, so many different thought processes, so many ideas, so many possibilities and so many stories. Being a part of something, mingling with people; all of these not only helps the group on the whole, but also helps you as an individual, to become a better person. You learn to adjust and alter your attitude towards things and obtain a better result out of it. 

Does this mean I’ve completely given up on individual contribution and ‘alone time’? Hell no. I honestly think a balance between the both is necessary, which I can say from personal experience. There are a few things I want to do alone and take complete credit for. There are times when I don’t want people around and I honestly enjoy my own company. But what I’m trying to say is that doing ‘only’ this will help you in no way and draw you into a shell. Surrounded by people, you learn to be confident and accept your flaws with ease. You realise you are at your happiest when you join with people and lose your shit. I’m not joking. Moments you spend alone, you choose not to forget. Moments spent with people are the ones that can’t be forgotten! You not only learn to accept who you are socially, but over time, you begin to encourage and accept others for their personalities, and you begin to see the beauty in them. You become more cheerful, more imaginative, more entertaining, more sharing, less boring, more talkative, and more expressive and above all, more caring. Now, if you are like me, you’d probably ask “okay, all that’s amazing, yay, but let’s get to the point; how is this going to profit me?”, yes, for those of you who do not know me, *ahem* I *ahem*  can *ahem ahem* be a bitch *ahem* at times *ahem ahem*. Well, guess what? All of the above qualities will not only get a job, but will help you keep it. Now if this piece of information won’t make you happy and convince you to socialize, I don’t know what will.

Finally, all I’d like to say is that, if you’re alone, and if you’re sitting in a dark room … or the library, and reading this article, then stop right now (no, wait, I’m kidding, stop after 3 more sentences), get out of that place, go out, stand next the group of classmates you never talk to otherwise, look creepy, look insane, look innocent and shy, but just get involved and stat talking! Start making friends! Start participating! Believe me; you might have a lifetime ahead of you filled with a job in an office cubicle and a lot of alone time, but this moment, this chance right here, to make yourself a better person, nah- you’re not getting a lifetime supply of this! It’s now or never! So go out there, and go NOW! 

Your presence is the life of the conversation. Your idea was the one they were waiting for all along. 

DISTANCE IS JUST A WORD

Distance is just a word.

“You often don’t realize how much you love a person till distance comes between you and them.”

I never really gave a thought about staying away from home. I always thought I’d be in Bangalore, going to the same college as my best friends. I never thought I had the courage to give up Science and choose Humanities. But most of all, I’d never thought I had to move away from my friends and family, because of what I chose. I knew that following your dreams would cost you, but I didn’t know this would be the price.

Until my 10^th grade, I never had to worry about my friends. We were a group of four, wrapped in our own little bubble, not caring about the rest of the world. We made plans together, imagined a future together. We promised we’d be in the same school, but of course, that didn’t happen. After my 7^th grade, the closest friend I had, Sanjna, was forced into changing her school. 5 of us were reduced to 4, and there was no way that I could fill up that void. She is a part of my childhood; the part I’d trade anything for- to relive it. The times we fought over a piece of chocolate covered in dirt, the times we got kicked out of class (which was pretty much every day), the times we spent thinking about how we’d end up famous by the age of 16; these were the times when I learnt how to think big, dream big, and enjoy life to the fullest. But the beginning of 8^th grade still had a lot in store for me. I didn’t have my best friend, it was devastating, but that wasn’t it. Our classes got shuffled. Thankfully, one person from my group of four ended up in this class; the one whom I’ve known all my life- Surabhi. She’s a major part of who I am today. From the very first day of my Montessori school, till date, she’s not heard my stories. She’s lived them with me. And I just realized I’ve never really thanked her for that.  (If you read this. I love you!) Three years passed smoothly, even with its ups and downs, the 4 of us managed to cling to the boat as much as possible. But all fairy tales need to end, and mine ended on 26^th March 2012. That was the day my 10th-grade board exams ended. Of course, we had promised to stay together but life had a different plan for us. Out of the 4, three of them went to state colleges, and only I decided to stay back in school for my higher secondary education. I cursed myself months together for what I did, but looking back, I now know that it was one of the best decisions I ever took.

11^th grade was probably the most challenging year for me because I’d never had the need to make friends before, and now, I had to start from the scratch. Luckily, one day, I landed in the last bench, having no other place to sit, because I was late to class. This tiny little girl whom I had ignored throughout my school life was sitting to my right, and I didn’t speak a word. “Can I borrow the pencil?” I heard. I simply nodded, not wanting to talk. “Can I borrow the ruler?” I nodded again. “I’m so sorry I borrowed your stuff” repeated the same voice again, at the end of the class. “Woman, if you behave this formally once again, I will slap you!” I barked out. And that’s how Sravya and I became friends! I slowly began to mingle with people I knew (the ones who had a history with my old group of friends) and the ones who were friends with the girl sitting next to me. I can’t go into details, but if somebody came to me back then and told me that these people would mean so much to me today, I’d have given them the address of the nearest mental hospital. Today, I would call myself the luckiest person alive to have such people in my life.

After high-school, there is a time when you just lose your mind! College options, courses, the tension, the pressure, your future- all of it makes you forget the value of things around you. I don’t think anybody makes mistakes or breaks promises as much as they do during this time! I had promised Varun that I would study architecture in the same college as him. I'm sorry I didn't keep my word, but I love you! (And if I've not thanked you for staying up all night listening to my bullshit, or for being the reason for 3/4th of my laughter till date, let me just tell you that I love you more than anyone else can!) Pranjali and I had plans of going shopping every weekend once we’re in college. Today, I see her once in 6 months. It all happened so fast, it was hard for us to keep up. The day I got my acceptance letter to Manipal, I knew I wouldn’t look back. I knew there was just one chance in my hand- and the only chance perhaps- to pursue my dream, and I didn’t look back. Neither did Pranjali. While everybody stayed back in Bangalore, we were moving away. And I didn’t know what I was leaving behind, till I left.

It’s been 6 months now; one semester. I know it’s not long, but it seems like it was just yesterday that we got our letters. Just yesterday, when Pranjali and I sat and discussed the things we had to pack. Just yesterday, that we bid farewell to all our friends, anticipating what was to come. If somebody tells you that things will never change, they’re lying. If you aren’t losing friends with time, you’re not growing up. The number of times you talk to your friends' decrease. Your promises of Skyping every day become mere words. The calls reduce over time, and you make new friends. Fights increase; misunderstandings too. The feeling of not knowing increases. But what doesn’t change a bit is how much you value that person in your life. What doesn’t change one bit is the hollow feeling you have inside you; without them. When one mentions long distance relationships, it is our tendency to think of couples, but that’s not true. Long distance friendships are even harder to manage. They make you realize that each and every moment spent with them, which seemed so ordinary back then, is something you value and treasure now. On those occasional calls and chats, you talk about your old days, laugh about those stupid pranks you played, cry over old crushes and heartbreaks, bitch about the people you hate (or don’t hate at times), criticize how stupid those old plans were, and wish how you were still together. There are times when you call your friend at 3 am, and talk about life. (Yes, that happens, and Pranjali, I can't thank you enough for being there every time. I love you too!) Everything about them becomes so special. Their birthdays become the most important day in history and you make sure you do everything you can to make them feel special even in your absence. At times, you also make sure that you get super emotional just to make sure they miss you too. The number of selfies you take and the number of social networking sites you’re on increases, just to make sure they keep up with your life. The best days are those when you return home; the semester breaks. That feeling when you see them for the first time after so long, the ‘catching up’ sessions, the stupidity; all of it makes you feel like that moment, which comes so rare, that moment should never end. 

No matter how many friends you make in your life, no matter how many people you meet every day, or how happening your life is, nothing can replace the friends you make in your childhood. These people know you like nobody else. They loved you even when you looked like a douche. They love you even after puberty did wonders to you. They love you at your best, and they’ve seen you at your worst. Each one of them, whether they've been with you for a day, or all your life, has contributed in the making of who you are today. If you're proud of yourself today, then thank them for being a major part of it. They were the ones who saw something special in you before the world could. These are the people worth fighting for; these are the people who deserve to stay in your life. No matter how far you are, never give up on them. If you have a friend who played an important part in your life, if you made memories with them, then call them up right now and show them how much they mean to you. After all, ‘distance’ is just a word.

I love you all.

IF IT IS WORTH A DREAM, IT IS NOT WORTH A COMPROMISE

My semester exams are just a few days away.

Am I anxious? Worried? Excited? Am I nervous? Yes. But for the first time in my whole life, I am not anxious because I need to score marks. I am not worried that I will mess it up. I am not nervous about what my parents think. For the first time, I am excited about writing the exam itself, more than how much I might score in it.

Just this afternoon, I wasn't.

Before I start off with my sad story, let me tell you, I have immense respect towards Science and Science students. My point is that not everybody wants to be a Science student. This might seem like a clichéd article, but trust me; it’s going to take a long time for our society to accept that fact. A few days before my 12th-grade board exams, I sat with my parents and told them that I wasn't sure if I would pass Math. Obviously, they freaked out, and the next thing I knew, I was in 2 different tuitions, slogging 12 hours a day on Math, but not a single minute of it was helping. I had to switch my brain with the smartest kid in class to understand a year’s portions in 2 weeks. It was impossible. No, I wasn't born stupid or something, I've had my share of proud 100/100’s in Math too, but high school changed everything. I have an overachieving cousin, who performed excellently well in his engineering exams. An aeronautical engineer, that’s what he became. And I had no idea what it was all about in 8^th grade, but I was fascinated by the way my family was treating him, and boom, I decided to become an aeronautical engineer. But was that what I really wanted to be? No. From a very young age, I have always had an inclination towards Arts; towards language and literature, towards current affairs, towards politics, towards fashion. But I was unsure about it- not that I would dislike it in the future, but unsure because I was not used to seeing people around me opting for anything other than engineering or medical science. It’s a well-known fact that in India if you want to be anything other than an engineer or a doctor, it is literally considered a crime. Something that is just not acceptable. And believe me, I know the feeling. The time finally came when I had to choose what I would specialize in, in high school. I sat and spoke to my parents about it, about my interest in Arts, and I should tell you, I am blessed with parents who would support me with my decisions and not force something upon me, even if they do not appreciate my decision. They told me they were okay with anything, and this made me think even more. “Would my friends choose Arts?” “What if I wake up someday and suddenly realize that I want to be a doctor?” “Wouldn't Science be a safe option? I mean, I can still switch to another stream whenever I want to, right?” I asked myself the same questions every day.

Then I chose Science.

The very first day of my 11^th grade began with a physics class, and that was the exact moment I realized I wasn't meant for Science. No way! I couldn't concentrate for a single minute and all I could think of was, “what did I do to my life?” I went home, I cried myself to sleep. I cried in front of my mom (who suggested that I should switch my stream, but I didn't want to because I’d spent 3000 Rupees already on reference books for IIT and NITs. And it was still the 1^st day of school. I know right?), I cried in front of my dad (who told me I would like it eventually, and that life would be amazing if I became an architect and joined him. He is a Civil engineer.), and I cried in the park. I cried till I just couldn't cry anymore. I had no friends, they’d all chosen to steer clear from the CBSE board, and I knew none of my teachers well. I thought I had no choice but to be an architect. In 11^th grade though, luckily, I got chosen to give the welcome address in the investiture ceremony, and believe me when I say I had never been praised so much in my whole life. Not once! My English teacher, who happened to be one of the biggest influences for my choice today, told me I was meant for the media when I got down from the stage. And obviously, for a 16-year-old, that was everything! It got engraved in my mind. I began giving more speeches, I started demanding for them. I had been scared of public speaking all my life. I was scared of anything that had to do with ‘public’ basically. They would call it ‘stage fear’. Even during my school elections, I had barely managed to complete my speech, before I thought I would pass out in front of the crowd if I stood on the stage for a minute more! (I won it though, thanks to my campaigning skills! I could be the next Modi!) But as time passed, I was no longer afraid of the crowd. It was like a drug, it was addictive. What I felt on stage was probably the most beautiful feeling in the world. It still is. That feeling of liberation, that freedom, nothing can replace it. The crowd became my scale for judging my own oration skills, and comments became my tool to improve myself. I started inclining even more towards media skills and creative writing. My liking for arts began to increase. Everybody understood this. I wanted to pursue Arts. This is what they did not understand. Why would I want to make a career out of this, out of Arts, and not out of science? Why would I want to ‘waste’ my life? My interest towards science began to drop drastically. Numbers and equations, I just couldn't get it! I barely managed to pass 11^th grade.

12^th grade, midterm exams, Mathematics- 2/100.

Yes, that was my marks in the Math exam. I never told my parents, I still haven’t. I lost all hope in my education, and I gave up. I started going to classes for the sake of it. I stared at the board from 9 am to 4 pm, with absolutely nothing in my mind. Nothing except fear- that I would end up nowhere. Nothing except doubts about my own purpose in life. I know these questions seem too philosophical or stupid now, but I can assure you I am not the only one who went through this. As board exams started nearing, I started freaking out. I stared at the textbooks like a dyslexic child, because I knew nothing. There was one month to go, and I knew nothing. That is when I was forced into math tuition.

I've never studied like I did in that one month.

12^th grade is life changing, that’s what they say. ‘You need these marks, or you are doomed’, that’s what they say. But let me tell you, your 12th-grade marks are very important (VERY, if you want to get into a good engineering or a medical college), but not as important as they are portrayed to be. Life won’t stop if the marks you get don’t end up the way you expect them to be. Time won’t freeze. Once you enter college, nobody even bothers to ask you how much you scored in the board exams. You could be sitting next to a person who scored 97%, or you could be sitting with a person who scored 63%. It doesn't matter. Life goes on.

I completed my exams, with Math exam being the last one, and came back home crying. I had no hopes of passing Math. My parents were disappointed. I was disappointed. But it didn’t stop there. My parents knew I wanted to pursue Humanities, but made me appear in more entrance exams for engineering and med school than they did for Arts. I cleared them, but my board results weren’t announced yet. I fought with my family, my friends, my neighbors and defended my decision to take up Humanities. I refused to take up anything else. 4 days before the results, my dad walked into my room and sat next to me. “Pa, what if I don’t pass?”

His answer changed my whole life.

“You know, if I didn't know that you had the potential to do well in what you are interested in, I would be disappointed in you. But, I know you aren't meant for this; for science. Abhi, if you flunk math, I would be disappointed, obviously. But please remember, that isn't the end of the world. You have another chance to clear it, to get it over with and to move on in life. Shit happens, you can’t help it, but you can choose for yourself; if you want to dwell on it, or find a solution and move on. I've always wanted to see you an architect, and I still do, but this is your life. This is your decision. You need to design your life in the way you imagine it, but you need to put your best effort into that. This is your life and your dream Abhi, never ever give up on it. Few things in life are worth fighting for, even if it means fighting against your father or your own family. And your passion is one of them. Never lose hope, and never give up.” My dad, who I never thought would agree on what I wanted to pursue, ended up being my biggest support. My parents will be the biggest support I have in my life.

Surprisingly, I passed Math, I got a decent percentage, I ended up convincing them, and I got into one of the best media colleges in the country. Didn't I tell you? Life works out in its own way.

But not all kids are lucky enough to get parents who understand them. Not all students are brave enough to pursue their dreams. If you are one of them, then know that by letting go of what you don’t like, you are not letting go of your dreams. You are letting go of someone else’s dream. If you don’t follow your own dream, someone else will use you to follow theirs. Be brave; be true to yourself, because it all works out in the end. Fight for it because it deserves to be fought for. 

Now, when I study, I don’t study to pass. I don’t care about getting good grades. I don’t study to stay in the 90% range. I don’t study to top the class. I study to understand. I study because I enjoy the subject. I study because I know that even a C grade would give me a reason to just study more. I study because I love it; I study- not for the grades, but to understand the beauty of the subject.

This afternoon, I wasn't sure. But now, I am; of myself, of my dream.

After all, if it’s worth a dream, it’s not worth a compromise.

THE KISS OF ACCEPTANCE

PDA is not a crime. It's high time we accept it.

I am a South Indian.

No, that is not how I introduce myself to others. That is what the people around me take into consideration, just a second or two before they judge me. “Traditional/Conservative/Madrasi/an alien!” Or the most frequent statement, “You can’t be a Southie, you’re fair!” (Like, what?) And I don’t deny their judgement, partly because it is a wee bit true. Mostly, because I study in a university situated in South India, but filled to the brim with North Indians. One basic “college” survival skill is to ‘never go against the majority’! Coming from a South Indian family, not a very conservative one, but not very liberal either, it was a culture shock when I first decided to take a walk in the campus- my first day alone in the university. Why? I had never ‘ever’ in my entire life, seen a couple stand and kiss on the road. Not that I hadn't seen a couple kiss before (I had to drag my friend a million times from the basement of our school, interrupting the holy exchange of saliva with her boyfriend, because we were getting late for math class), but in public? Whoa. No friggin way! With my bad eyesight, and my temporarily ‘out of service’ brain, I took some time to realize what was happening, and turned away to look at something else. Anything else! My pace increased. I walked away and found myself in another road. The next thing I knew, I had called up three of my friends back home, in a span of 10 minutes, and burst out- like a motor mouth- about what I’d just seen. Oh believe me; I do not come from the 1990’s version of India. I’m talking about the society today.

What I noticed after I stepped into this university is that society changes from place to place. Back home, I studied in the same school for 14 years. I went in the same van to school for 14 years, played with the same people and shared food with the same ‘forever hungry’ group of friends. Went to the same places, and came back to my home, which is located in the same place for 15 years now. Nothing around me changed, except the size of my clothes, shoes, and a few oldies near my home that passed away. Yup, they died. The way my parents treated me changed slightly- maybe, but not much. And the neighborhood I stayed in, oh my god, it was probably one of the most conservative areas in Bangalore. Just because the non conservative kids had exported themselves to other countries and their conservative parents from the 50’s had stayed back, now retired, with a pet or two, scolding every kid who even uttered the word “play” on the road. Forget about kissing on the road, we maintained a fair but not very obvious distance from the opposite gender when they were around; sometimes even when they weren't around. Now let me make this very clear, not all parts of Bangalore are like that. The neighboring locality itself isn't like mine. Of course, we all have our share of childhood crushes, relationships, holding hands, first kisses (not me), a lot of kisses that followed (still not me), broken hearts and a lot more. But one thing that refused to happen in public was the kissing, the affection, the “PDA” basically. Public display of Affection.

As I finished my high school, my long summer- packing things, my goodbyes to a lot of people, I finally ended up in college, and all of a sudden, I was kicked out from a timid, conservative society to a ‘bang on, young and energetic, youthful’ society! Students, students everywhere! The humans above the age of 30 in this town either work for a bank (which serves the students) or as a faculty member in the university. That young a town it is. Let me be very frank. Eventually, I felt very awkward looking at a couple kissing in public. They were there everywhere! Maybe if I grew up in an environment like that, I would've been used to it, but I wasn't, and I didn't know what to do, except ogle at them like a retarded idiot. Once a person steps into college, they obviously want to experiment with everything that was denied to them before. It’s a fact. And that’s how I ended up in a club. A shady club. Being the only sober kid in the group, I sat back and started to look around and observe people with whatever amount of light was available there. The same thing happened again; showers of kisses. Couples, drunk kids, random kids, everybody. That is when I realized, I had to change. My views had to change, because the world wouldn't stop for me. The time zone I lived in wouldn't freeze for me, and with the generation moving forward, with every new step towards the future, only I could help myself by accepting this and moving on. The next day, I saw a couple making out. I didn't feel a thing. Nothing. It was almost as if I had seen it so many times, like seeing flowers grow on the footpaths, like seeing leaves on trees, like seeing something as ordinary as that.

Often, we don’t consider such actions common or normal in our society. We have the police barging into every rally, every protest and every campaign that supports PDA. We have the conservative class looking down upon PDA. But what is wrong in showing love and affection to a person? If we can fight in public, if we can show wars and its effects on television, broadcast it to the world, why can’t the Indian society accept peace, love and affection? If I could change my views, I am sure anybody else can too. By seeing PDA, one may get disgusted for a day or two, maybe a week. But after that, it just becomes a part of his daily life. I came across this beautiful quote, “Normal does not exist. What may seem normal to a spider, may be destructive to a fly”, and that explains the current situation and the mindset of our conservative society. What may seem normal to them, may be suffocating to the present generation, who dwell on freedom, liberty and openness. Yes, I agree, few thing think it is against our culture, but hey, aren't we the people who belong to the land in which there were people who carved out those beautiful sculptures in the Khajuraho temple? Sculptures, that were carved not a decade or two ago, but around 950 to 1050 AD. Now that, my folks, is a very long time ago. If PDA wasn't seen as an offense that time, by our own culture, why now? Not only in the south, which is considered to be 'conservative', but the north too. Why, in this country, is it considered an offence? 

We can only hope that this small whisper reaches them, and maybe… just maybe ring the same question in their minds.

Lean in; hear me whisper now, for we can only hope.