Reflections

Good writers read more, then do good readers write more? I have always been quite fixated on counter-questioning everything I read/see/hear. This became more prominent during Architecture school. In a sorts, it was the perfect place that allowed me the time and opportunity to become what I wished to. I never possessed a rebellious streak. School was more about competition for the top three ranks. It did not foster the kind of person I would have liked to become. It was cut-throat competitiveness over grades and being teachers' pet. Every child seemed to vie for attention from teachers. It didn't help that my class was full of smart kids, who excelled in sports, the school curriculum and popularity among peers. Since thinking about those days, I now laugh over how each one of us wanted to outsmart everyone else.

Architecture really gave an open challenge to a lot of people I met in the beginning. It was supposed to be the creamiest of professional courses, something that would fetch millions once started, become well-known, have a secure life- none of which sadly holds true for the profession. This is no grudge about the profession, although my family thinks I have a fierce grouse against it. Learning something to earn a living and hating it to the core is not my idea of a fulfilling way to live life. Neither is getting married or adhering to the various conventional norms of society which puts us through the grind of a materialistic and self-centred way of living. I wish people understood this concept. Where is the light that is supposed to guide us throughout adversaries? Life increasingly seems like an adversity and not a cherished blessing. How do I turn it around? DO I need to bring a big change in the way it's shaping right now? Perhaps. These shenanigans that we commit to go through from one day to next are so terribly disappointing and depressing and yet I maintain my optimism about being more than hopeful about the average manifold events that layer my life right now. I don't feel the bitterness of failure as much as when it's undeserving. I do laugh at all this plethora of word treasure I've acquainted so far to use it so sparingly, sometimes quite actively when I begin to see different directions that confuse me. 

Sometimes with all these books lying around me, it doesn't help with the issues I grapple to solve. My mind seems to tussle with these expectations hovering above my head, some my own and some by people I respect. Huffing and puffing my way through understanding the events that are happening in real time has gradually made me understand that we have no ownership on time. What we do have mastership on is our conduct and steering upon actions we perform in our lifetime. I have been conversing a lot with a new friend and we have started discovering our shared love for poetry, literature with quite an enthusiasm so much so that we keep talking for hours. It's so encouraging to illicit a passionate response from someone who loves books, words, the beauty of expressions and this is keeping me very happy. She is a lively, spirited soul who doesn't shy away from expressing literary love explicitly unlike me who keeps it reserved. Someone who listens intently to everything we speak and treasures our words- such friends are a rarity to be found in today's world. We have perfected the many hats that we all put on our heads and try to pull them off with ease. The intention of putting all these experiences to words is to let the good things spread cheer amidst sombre, not-so-happy moments that I find myself on some odd days. Hopefully reading the comparative better days will bring me to be grateful for the moment to savour. Time changes everything. Here's to better days, warm conversations and a great many memories to stow for some wintry nights and throwback fridays.