2017 Chapter VII Section 26

Of What Was and What Could Have Been!

[Technically It's the 26th, but I have something else planned for that day, so here goes, enjoy, my invisible blog reader!] 

Of course the minute I decided I need to go back to being regular with my blog and life, my health hit me hard. There was nothing new in the thing that happened, the same old pain in the back, couldn't move, pain in the body, prolonged periods, you know the drill by now. I became an emotional mess thinking there is no escaping this loop. This is a part of my life now and the best thing to do is accept it and move on. 

Thanks to my back pain I was barely mobile for a week, then it took another to bounce back completely. And in the mean time, my never ending periods gave me company. And, before you say anything, I am going to all the right doctors and doing everything money allows you to do. These are small annoying health issues which honestly seems to have no permanent solutions. But, one must go on. 

Last week another thing happened which made me breakdown. Chester Bennington from Linkin Park passed away. I have never met him but his voice, his music has been a huge part of my life. My childhood was riddled with bullying and I used to go through bouts of depression. I do not think my family realized to what extent. For me listening to Linkin Park's music was an escape from reality into the world I wanted to build around me. The words from their songs resonated with me. I know this is the truth for many on earth but for me, it felt special. I didn't realize how much I was affected by the sad news, till I sat down and had a small breakdown. I think this news coupled with my already broken health had built up into an emotional ball of pure tears. Chester, your voice will always remain a guardian angel to me. 

It's 3:42 am and I cannot stop my brain from thinking. I am thinking of my past, the people I have left behind, memories of a time that is gone; the good, the bad, the ugly. I feel so weak yet strong at the same time. I do not know if I am making any sense but I wrote something to clear the thoughts from my brain. I will post that tomorrow. For now, I will try to go to sleep. I have an extremely long day tomorrow. 

Tata! 

TODAY'S CHECKLIST:

• Exercise: HIIT (Soco) (Finally after two weeks)
• Food: 
  • Pre-Workout: None
  • Post-Workout: None
  • Lunch: In N Out!  
  • Snack: Peanut butter and Jam sandwich  
  • Dinner: Pasta  
• Study: UCI.
• Read: Zero to One
• Feeling: Too many thoughts. 

2017 Chapter II Section 6

Reading & My Intelligence

When I was young, I used to read a lot. One of the main reasons being, I didn't have too many people to talk to.  Now, don't get me wrong, I wasn't a loner, and I did have a lot of friends. But, somehow I wouldn't be able to relate to most of them. I also had a few bad years in my teenage life, that was mainly thanks to bullying at school. (more on that, in a future blog)

But, to be honest, I read because I loved to read. My maternal grandmother introduced us to reading and storytelling at a very young age. I distinctly remember her reading from books and making us understand what they meant. My parents also encouraged us a lot.

My sister did not pick up the habit of reading as much as I did. Obviously, as a child, I loved reading Enid Blyton, Roald Dahl, Agatha Christie and many more. I even remember that my parents had to build and get a few book shelves because soon I started running out of room to keep my books. 

Thanks to my grandmother, I used to love reading poetry. Though she introduced me to Bengali poetry, I slowly gravitated towards the English Language. I fortunately still have most of my books of poems. 

I remember I had a habit of walking around the room while reading poems. I do not know how or where I picked up this habit, but I still do this. I was also taught to read aloud. I try not to that now! :D

I never really had restrictions on what I could read. So, I remember when I was around ten years old, I had read Preludes by T.S.Eliot. (yes, the original poem, not an abridged version) I am pretty sure; I did not understand the deep meaning of the poem at the time. But, it struck a chord. I wanted to do my P.h.D in English Literature and concentrate on Eliot. 

[That did not happen, unfortunately, but since then, I have read a lot more of Eliot and have discovered many other brilliant poets.]

So, reading to me was my way of feeling alive. I say 'was,' because I think I do not value the art of reading as much as I did when I was younger. 

As I have mentioned before, I was bullied at school. I was 13 when it had started, and it only stopped once I left that school at 15. I had become very depressed at the time, and I used to bury myself in books. 

I remember I was 12 when my father gifted Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban to me. At the time, I had never even heard of Harry Potter. 

I stayed up all night and finished the book. I remember crying. I remember my heart feeling stronger. I also realised I wanted to read more about Harry. [The Harry Potter series holds a special place in my heart. I will talk about HP and my life in a later blog; there is so much to talk about on this topic.]

That year, like every other year, I took my pocket money and my parents to the Kolkata Book Fair and bought the first two books of the series. 

Book Fair was my favourite time of the year. It was my pilgrimage. I would take every rupee I had saved and buy everything my heart desired. My parents would also chip in, of course. I used to come back with bags of books from various genres. According to my father, they were meant to last the year, but I would end up reading them in a few week's time. After that, I would patiently wait for people to lend me books or gift them for my birthday or other occasions. For me, my paternal aunt's house used to be Mecca. Her husband loved to read, and he had a huge collection of books. He was always kind enough to lend or gift me dozens of books. I miss those more innocent and happier times.

So, as you must have figured out by now, I love to read. Or, I would say loved to. I remember loving the quiet time I used to get while reading. Everyone in my family knew not to disturb me while I read. 

I think now YouTube has replaced my love for reading which is rather sad as I feel a little stupider than before. I do not know if there is any truth to it, but the less I read, the dumber I feel. 

I have been trying to cut down on my 'watching junk on my laptop' time, but have been so unsuccessful!!! I want to read at least one book a week this year, and so far it has been a disaster. Like everything in my life I started off well and did finish my quota of books in January but then I fell sick, and now I have become extra lazy! Now, I just sit for hours and watch mindless vlogs! Why why why!! And, some of the things I have started watching make me question my sanity!  -_-

Where have the good old days gone? Or at least the good old me! I remember in college; I had a reading challenge with my friend. She used to claim to read fast and a lot. I did not believe her, and she refused to believe I read a lot. So, over the summer holidays after our first year at college, we decided to read as much as we could. We even had to devise a way to check the actual number of books we read! (yes, I think we might have been nerds! :D) 

My final number was around 33. She refused to count the Manga and other comic books I had read (unfair, they are books too). Otherwise, the number would have been higher. Also, I had decided that was the best time to read The Lord of the Rings and those books are thick, and they take time! Anyway, in the end, I just remember being a much happier person. And, since our numbers were very close, we had called a truce. She is pursuing her P.h.D. in the English language, so I guess she has beaten me in the numbers department now! 

Wow, I wrote a lot more than I had anticipated. I do still love to read. But, I have become lazier, and there are more things to distract me now. As I told you before, I feel there is a connection between my increasing/diminishing intelligence and the number of books I read.

I do need to start getting myself back in the habit of reading! Imaginary or not, I need to get back that feeling of 'not feeling stupid' and reading books always helped me to do that.  

Read more, Arunima! Your brain needs it. 

Tata! 

TODAY'S CHECKLIST:

• Exercise: Weights
• Food:
  • Breakfast: None
  • Lunch: Rice, Mixed Veggie, Fish
  • Snack: Pav Bhaji, Mishti
  • Dinner: Dal, Rice
• Study: Stanford
• Read: A Clash of Kings
• Feeling: Nostalgic. Remembering all the good times when I used to read books. 

2017 Chapter I Section 18

The Diary

[Story Time! Partly based on a true story.]

It is 10 in the morning. Naaz is frantically searching for something under her bed. Her room looks like it has suffered a storm. 

She struggles as she tries hard to pull something out. It seems stuck, but Naaz is not ready to give up easily. She struggles but keeps up the fight. 

Her phone lays on top of her disheveled bed, constantly illuminating as different numbers keep calling and messaging her. Naaz seems not to notice at all. 

After about 10 or 15 minutes, Naaz finally succeeds in pulling the diary out. She is completely breathless. Her face looks tired. It seems like she is both dreading and excited about what is in that diary. 

The contents of the diary is nothing out of the ordinary. It looks like one of those farewell diaries school children use to write goodbye notes to each other at the end of an academic year. 

It reads; "Will miss you, stay the same." "Stay cool now that school
is over." 

Naaz is frantically turning the pages. She looks like she is on a mission to find a particular message. 

Her hands stop at a particular page. Her eyes seem transfixed. Her face is slowly turning pale. 

Big drops of tears now slowly start rolling down her face. She doesn't even try to wipe them off. She hugs the diary and keeps weeping. 

There is a picture of two young girls. One looks like a much younger Naaz, and the other is her friend. They look like they are half hugging and half laughing. There is a message on the other side, "You are and will be the closest to my heart, for now, and forever - Koni."

Naaz softly touches the picture and buries her head in her bent knees, still tightly clutching the diary. 

It looks like it is the middle of recess. Young girls of 14 years are running around the big play yard. Some are seating enjoying their lunch, some chatting. 

At one end of the ground, we see a younger Naaz lying down on the ground. Her head is on her friend's lap. 

Nazz is looking up at her and smiling as the other girl is animatedly talking about something. Naaz seems mesmerised by her. 

"Are you getting bored?" asked the girl. 

"I can never be bored by you, Koni."

"You are so silly Naaz, of course, I can be boring."

Naaz hurriedly gets up and sits down to face Koni. She holds Koni's hands and looks directly into her eyes, "Koni, you can never be boring to me. You can always tell me anything and everything, okay?"

Koni looks surprised but immediately starts laughing as if Naaz had said something very amusing. She hugs her tightly and then continues her story. 

There is a sudden knock on the door. The 23-year-old, Naaz is rudely awakened from her reverie. Her eyes are bloodshot. 

In a feeble voice she asks, "What do you want?"

"Naaz, beta open the door, your friends are here. They are waiting for you. The funeral is..." the voice stops. 

"Beta, please open the door."

"Naaz, we are here to take you, open the door, man." says another voice. 

"Trust me, I know what you must be feeling, but we have to go. You know you know, that, Koni would have wanted you to be there..." her voice trails off. 

"Koni, why, Koni, why?" Naaz says quietly to herself in a muffled voice. 

"Naaz, beta, please."

"Fine, give me a few minutes, I will just come down."

Naaz slowly starts getting up. Her entire body feels weak and heavy. Her heart feels heavier.

"Koni, why couldn't you just talk to me once? Just once, Koni. Like we used to as kids. Why...?" 

She absent-mindedly picks up her phone. 

'38 missed calls, 47 unread messages.'

Most of them had similar messages, "Where are you? Pick up the call." "This is urgent."

She keeps scrolling through the messages as she walks towards the door. 

She quietly opens the door. 

Her mother and her two friends are standing on the other side. Her mother looks worried, and the friends look like they have also been crying. 

Naaz is still scrolling through her messages when she abruptly stops. 

The phone falls from her hand, and she drops to the floor; this time howling. 

"Koni you promised, 'for now and forever', Koni, you promised."

Everyone runs to grab her. 

There is an opened message on the phone. 

"Pick up the call Naaz. Koni is no more. She killed herself. We do not know why. We need to go to her house. I am coming to pick you up. Piu is also coming with me. Naaz, please pick up the phone."

THE END!

TODAY'S CHECKLIST:

• Exercise: 7797 Steps
• Food:
  • Breakfast: Oats pancake
  • Lunch: Rice, Dal, Veggies, Fish
  • Snack: Batter-fried chicken
  • Dinner: Salas
• Study: Half a Module (Stanford)
• Read: Three chapters from Clash of Kings
• Feeling: All good except my nose has been getting very dry due to the cold weather and it has been bleeding while sneezing sometimes. Nothing serious.

2017 Chapter I Section 16

Dear Thamma (grandmother)

Today I was missing my grandmother a lot. I was feeling rather lost. When I was younger, I would go to her whenever I felt lost. 

She was the first teacher, friend, guide I had. She was my living God. She is still my God. I was feeling very helpless today, and I wanted to have one of our long conversations after which I somehow always knew what to do. I had written the following poem a few years back as a tribute to my grandmother; I felt like those words still capture how I feel today. So, I am re-sharing it today. 

I miss you 'Thamma'. I hope you are happy. Sometimes I feel you are too far away but then the next moment I feel like you are right here, beside me. Help me stay strong, stay kind and stay safe! 

Bhalo theko! 

Good Bye

The last I saw you,

You looked so peaceful.

I did not know how to wake you up.

 But now I wish I had.

At least I could have bid you goodbye.

It has been long, almost too long.

Since you stroked my hair, smiled and told me stories, of demons and fairies.

I do not know, how to tell you...

...that I Miss You! 

I miss you every waking moment.

I miss you even when I do not miss you; I miss you even when I do not wish to.

How is it that you always knew what to say, to make me feel special? 

How is it that you always knew what to do, to make me feel wanted?

I know you had to leave, we all have to leave one day.

But so soon? 

Was it not part of our pact, that you would stay till I am here?

I have so much to say, so much to write.

But eternity seems such a short span of time.

For me to tell you, 

How much I love you...How much I will always miss you!

TODAY'S CHECKLIST:

• Exercise: 2700 steps
• Food:
  • Breakfast: None.
  • Lunch: Leftover Biriyani and Chicken. 
  • Snack: Pizza! 
  • Dinner: Pasta
• Study: None
• Read: None.
• Feeling: Horrible day. A friend of mine ran away from home and others, and I spent a chunk of the night and day finding her and then counseling her!!!

2017 Chapter I Section 6

Blast from the Past! 

OH MY GOD! What a fantastic day it was! I did not think my day would end this way! I love it. 

I met my childhood friend, my sister from another mother, after 10 Years! 10 YEARS! And, the best part, nothing has changed. We are still the same crazy kids we used to be. 

Due to circumstances and life and long distances between us, we had fallen apart for a while. But, today it felt like nothing has changed as if life had stood still for us. 

We became friends when I was 13, and we are inseparable. She is older than I am but that never was an issue for us. 

As a kid, I didn't have a lot of friends. We lived in the same neighbourhood and to be honest I somehow never really fit in with others. 

I used to go for English classes to her mother's house, and that's how we met. I always thought we were cool kids. We talked about everything under the sun. From books to boys to nothing at all. 

What I loved about our friendship was we were very different, yet somewhere we were the same person. 

Her house was on the next street to mine, so I used to spend most of my time after school at her house. 

Every day, even on days when I did not have my English classes with her mother, I would show up at her doorsteps. Then, we would go for long walks to chat. We would walk for hours, yes hours. We had a particular route we would follow. And, every day it ended with getting 'papri chat' at our favourite 'Chaat' guy at this local shopping mall area, Dakhsinapan. 

It was my daily routine. These walks are some of my fondest memories of my childhood. 

She moved to Bangalore to study and then I moved to Pune for my Master's and somewhere in between, not sure exactly when, we stopped talking every day. 

It wasn't like we entirely stopped talking, but we somehow fell apart. I never did feel like I lost a friend, though. I always knew she was there. 

Somehow in the past ten years, we were never in the same city at the same time. And, then, life happened to us both. So, all this took us away from each other. 

I do not know what the future holds, but I cannot be happier for this one day. I felt like we were those two young kids, roaming around, talking our hearts out and just loving life as it is. 

TODAY'S CHECKLIST:

• Exercise: Walked 4117 steps. 
• Food:
  • Breakfast: Boiled egg and bread 
  • Lunch: Quinoa, Mixed vegetable, Dal, Fish 
  • Snack: Biriyani!!! (Was outside and got super hungry)
  • Dinner: Palak Chicken and two rotis. 
• Study: 30 mins of French 
• Read: None
• Feeling: Ecstatic!! :D Cannot stop smiling.