Dear Discomfort

 

Dear Discomfort,

Puncture my parachute so I find my wings and fly.

Take me away from the outside world so I connect with the person in the mirror.

Cage me in a bubble so I break out of it.

Silence me so I find meaningful things to say when I regain my voice.

Push me into the dark so I find my way through the long nights.

Corner me so I reclaim my space. Violate my space so I erect boundaries.

Hold me close to the ground so my urge to stand tall and proud intensifies.

Bind me tight so I learn to play with knots of limitation.

Hit me when I’m down so I savour the ups when the rollercoaster turns.

Drown me in doubt so I wade towards my survival.

Take away the false shine, so I’m not blinded by glimmer. Snatch a real diamond or two, so I learn its value.

Punch me in the stomach so I learn to stand up for myself.

Lure me into Candyland so I separate fantasy from reality.

Lay me in rock bottom so I look up to the sky.

Pull the ground beneath my feet so I find new legs to stand on.

Stretch me so I know how to reach.

Pin me to the wall so I learn not to beat my fists against it.

Render me weak so I grow to be strong. Leave me helpless so I discover tools to help myself.

Burden me so I’ll relieve myself of some battles.

Drop me out of another’s world so I shoot for the stars in the galaxy.

Throw me in a cesspool of agony so I relish every moment of ‘happy.’

Place me in a well of tears and I’ll cherish every drop of the elixir of joy.

Destroy all that I’ve built so I create a better home for myself.

Erase all that I was so I get to rewrite who I am.

I’ve you to thank for any success, acceptance and progress that has been splashed onto my palette.

Thank you for being my cheerleader. My saviour. My best friend.

Kudos to you for knowing what I need before I do.

I look forward to when you come and visit me next.

Copyright © Roshni Ramanan

What’s the word for it? #2

I wish there were words to describe:

Having just the right amount of something. Not too much, not too less.

The terror in anticipation of a big fall when you’re riding a high. Too good to be true, often isn’t.

Having something happen to you that you thought “only happens in movies.” Ready to break into a song and dance, anyone?

Equally valid, polar opposite ways of thought and feeling. Delighted and distraught about moving abroad. That joke was both atrociously offensive and absolutely hilarious, all at once.

The joy of the last but one step. Relishing the hills and vales of the journey so far. Eagerly awaiting the fruits of the sweaty trek. One more class, one more day, and I’ll be done. This time tomorrow.

Garlanded by applause. You bag the prize every participant coveted. Every spectator’s eye on you.

Awkwardly being on the receiving end of a musical “Happy birthday to you..” Yikes. We’ve all been there.

Not knowing what to do after checking off a major goal. Hold on – I don’t have to prepare for this event anymore? Yaay! But, what do I do with all my time now?

Knowing you should stop but not being able to. One more song. One more minute on the internet. One last page before I turn off the lights. Oops, it’s morning.

Breaking into fits of laughter at the most inopportune times. Don’t give away the prank. Keep a straight face throughout your presentation. Please, not at a funeral.

Tripping and falling on flat surfaces. Every time.

Knowing something in your bones with no factual evidence to back it up. How can you be so sure? Because- I just know.

When “your day” comes around. All of a sudden, you’re the Scrabble king. Your bat solely secures sixes and fours. You’re psychic. Today, the wind’s on your side.

Copyright © Roshni Ramanan

(Part 2)

Liebster Award

Thank you very much. I’m sincerely honoured and humbled by the nomination. Readers, do check out this poetry blog: https://writingdiaryofananxietypickle.wordpress.com/

Questions for me:

1. What inspires you to write and why?

I’ve always written and enjoyed writing, as far back as I can remember. I may write for an emotional outlet or intellectual stimulation but mostly the inspiration isn’t external; it is writing that’s the inspiration.  I’ve always loved words and I write to write.

2. What is one quality you wished you possessed but struggle with?

I fight losing battles vigorously and it drains my resources for fights where I do have a winning chance. I wish I could better discern when I need to take up my sword and shield and when I need to give in to the dance of divine timing.

3. What’s a sound that you love?

I love the sound of laughter, especially when it is uncontrollable and distinctive. That’s impressionable and very contagious.

4. What is your go-to movie or show?

It would have to be Friends. It’s timeless.

5. What is your favorite part about yourself? It can be physical or metaphysical 🙂

I’m very interested. I’m interested in people, new skills, events, conversations etc. I believe interested people have interesting lives because they actively engage with a plethora of stimuli and can always view life through the lens of childlike wonder and vigour.

6. Who is your favorite historical figure and why?

I don’t have one. As I’ve written before, I don’t prescribe to superlatives in general.

7. What is something you’ve tried that you will NEVER do again?

Eat sesame seeds.

8. What is one of your favorite holiday traditions? It can be any holiday.

During Krishna Jayanti, they have children dip their feet into rice flour paste and walk. The child’s footprints are taken as an indication of the lord’s arrival. I really enjoyed that as a little kid.

9. When you are old, what is one thing you think your children (if you have any) will ask you to tell stories about?

I don’t have any. Interesting question though.

10. Describe your life using 3 words.

Energizing, productive, straightforward

11. What gives you courage?

It is unbelievable to me that I’m able to laugh and live so fully after some of the experiences my past self has endured. I take courage from the fact that, even if I lose a lot of things, I’ll still have my values and that’ll help me pick myself up from scratch. With every new adventure and experience, I’m certainly readier than before to have faith in my own strength.

11 FACTS ABOUT ME 

1. I started this blog as a birthday gift to myself.
2. I’ve “Iridescent” tattooed under my left collar bone.
3. My politics is personal. I believe in living my beliefs so I can hopefully influence the people I meet.
4. I’m one of the most uninhibited people in any room.
5. I’m a hugger.
6. I give a lot of compliments, and I mean them.
7. I feel very uncomfortable when I’m asked to try new food. It’s an inexplicable fear.
8. I’ve done 3 ziplines and heights still terrify me.
9. I’m a fake burp expert.
10. I admire something or the other about every person I’ve interacted a ton with.
11. I’m the same person around authority figures, peers, friends, family etc. Different social groups bring different aspects out in some people; I don’t think that largely holds true for me.

Again, thank you so very much for the nomination and thank you for reading! Happy blogging, everyone!

Strained

The strain remained, refusing to vanish like a particularly hard-to-dislodge guava seed in my tooth. Pain. Strain. Remain. I played with the words in my head, as though the rhyme would resound laughter amidst the bleakness of a lost battle.

The texts had tumbled, like the slip of a juggler’s hands. Only that the balls now were fired rapidly back at me. I lit the fire and I burnt in it. Every time.

His text would creep in tomorrow, day after. A reminder of the mess. Of what was lost and gone. I’d be forced to put forth another attempt at war but my armoury would be tucked safely under the bed and I’d perhaps be sleeping when his text arrives.

Unwelcome. Unnecessary. A belated ointment for an old wound. A half-hearted rush of concern to make up for the delay in response, as the air would stink of thick, sweaty drops of apology. A stench that we seemed to carry every time we met.

He’d try to plaster the walls he broke and stitch the open wounds, wounds that he opened, sometimes with an intricate compass, other times with a carefully misplaced scythe.

Hatred would gush and love would bubble. I’d multiply the bubbles and send it his way, quick pecks on his indifferent cheeks: Kindness measured, so it’s not too much or too less but just right lest he rejects it for its overwhelming nature.

I’d swallow the hatred and reopen my old wounds, using only scythes with no place for compasses. Scythes he’s given me from unforgettable memories of being pushed into an abyss, always willing to jump, but never wishing for it.

He’s throw tidbits with the air of a man who throws pellets of puffed rice to the desperate fish at sea- waiting, wanting, willing, wishing- and walk away huffily with a puffed up chest, his generosity impressing himself. The sour taste of battle blood would sink my palette into pain and the strain would remain.
Copyright © Roshni Ramanan

 

What’s the word for it?

Have you ever felt something so fascinatingly specific that you recognize the feeling instantly when it next arrives?

You rush to find the perfect word to describe it, surely it’s at the tip of your tongue – only to realize that it doesn’t exist. At least not in this language.

I wish there were words to describe:

Gathering courage to finally feel comfortable about attempting something, way beyond your comfort zone. A wallflower’s first public speech. Adorning those dance shoes despite having two left feet.

Feeling inspired and empowered enough by another’s joyful success to put yourself out there. Taking vocal lessons after listening to the two-year-old wonder. Diving headfirst into your own passions after your friend’s foreign land fairytale.

Relief of never having to do something heavy, ever again. Phew. Remember when you ripped your board exam hall tickets apart and grinned ear-to-ear?

Celebrating the firsts. Your first blog. Your first bicycle ride after the support wheels came off. Learning the first sentence in an alien language.

Embellishing a silly detail because you fear being judged for the truth. Exaggerating your height on a dating profile or throwing in an extra couple of interests on your resume, for good measure. Wink.

Desire to dwell in the world of a book, a movie, a play; inhabit the life of a fictional character or reside in a real-life hero. I’m still waiting for my Hogwarts acceptance letter.

Being an awkward liar, all-too-obvious. Conversely, when you excuse someone’s apparent lies to protect them from embarrassment. Your sincere head-nods to children’s lies so they can save face.

Laughing till it hurts, jumping for joy or shedding real tears about an imaginary situation that never unfolded in reality.

An image that you can’t stop seeing every time you close your eyes. Every mathematical formula when you’ve been crunching numbers too long, or that terrifying frame from a horror movie that refuses to let you sleep.

Palpably awkward experiences, where you’re beseechingly looking at the ground, hoping you’d be swallowed in. Running into an old boss. Wardrobe malfunction in a grandiose gathering. Forgetting the lines to a song as you perform, right before your Lady Gaga moment.

Delight that floods when you finally fulfil a craving or a dream. Celebratorily eating ice cream at 2 a.m. Buying the instrument you’ve been diligently saving up for.

Absolute painful certainty that something is crawling on your skin. You thoroughly check and recheck every inch to assuringly find no real reason to cringe.

Clarity about a situation from ages ago, attained after learning a critical piece of information. A head-scratcher then. Now, the puzzle fits.

Jubilation when things unfold astonishingly well, surpassing your wildest dreams. A perfect score in a mind-numbing video game. The outpour of enthusiasm for your fresh ideas. The happiest guests relishing your delightful servings.
Copyright © Roshni Ramanan

(Part 1)

The writer’s dream

I dreamed of writing something beautiful.

A perfect piece, in calligraphic writing.

With every t slashed and every i dotted, with no disheartened strikes and no irate ink blotches.

A piece that gently embraces the poetry of punctuation and the rhythm of line breaks.

Where the beginning, the middle and the end, mesh and flow with sing-song continuity.

A brand-new topic with wholesome ideas to sharpen the sword of the reader’s mind.

Where just the right amount of curiosity is evoked and the knotted clues unravel, in the style of ballet spins.

A train of thought, where every metaphor leads to the next stop.

An untraversed path, and the novelty it brings.

A piece that is the writer’s dream and the reader’s release, with its fresh breath of air.

I dreamed of writing something beautiful, and I ended up here.

Copyright © Roshni Ramanan

Writer’s note: Chasing an ideal leaves us in limbo, as the shadow of the “perfect” is a giant blockade to progress in our path. So, forget the end product. It is the enlivening journey that truly renders joy.

This post was inspired by the fact that I put a lot of pressure on myself to write a really good post because I’m posting here after so long. Then, I realised that the writeup isn’t my dream. Writing is. 

Who are you today?

Who are you today?

I often wonder

Have you geared up to tackle blunt realities or are you still clouded by conspiracy theories?

Are you still a cosy armchair expert or are you jumping into the field and getting your hands dirty?

Is your full-time job what you’d like to do in leisure? Perhaps, you published the comics, that the seven-year-old you unleashed on walls and chart paper alike.

If genetics wins the Nature vs Nurture debate, then perhaps you’ve found your safe haven in education. I bet you’re raising hell by inspiring your students to rebel.

I hope you’ve embraced your awkward self and still happily flail on the dance floor, fumble song lyrics and stay wary of glass.

I pray you still get lost, every now and then, and go through a memorable adventure to find your way back. Who knows? Maybe those days are long gone and you’ve turned into a visuospatial whiz now.

Do you still talk in your sleep, rush to the sports section in the newspaper and like your coffee strong?

Is your sense of smell still your superpower? I can imagine your distasteful glance when you sniff out spoilt milk in the kitchen, all the way from the terrace.

Does your mind still get its flipflops done by solving puzzles on the commute to work? I picture you multitasking, with your enthusiastic ambidexterity.

I can’t see a bumbling play pal strapping on the boots of parenthood, but enough time has passed for you to build a sweet home and a sweeter family.

I wonder if you’re saving the world, one brick at a time like you always told me you would. You tend to spring into action when it comes to charity.

I know you mastered many a foreign tongue to visit alien lands across the globe. Are you happily experiencing a different city every day? Perhaps, that’s why you’ve never returned home.

Can you imagine, in the world where everyone seems to know everyone, we managed to lose touch and stay lost?

Well, I found the suspense we were looking for in the detective novels we sprinted across. I’ve replaced them with my wondering about you, which is a consistent source of thrill.

At the end of my guessing games, I always come to the same conclusion:

No matter who you are today, I wish you were around.

Copyright © Roshni Ramanan

Goals: To introduce a third person to the reader through an ambiguous, possibly unstable author.

Offer the reader enough space to determine what to believe and what not to, so as to build a caricature of the third party, who may entirely be a figment of the author’s imagination.

To instil a sense of nostalgia, melancholy and loss where ‘loss’ could mean a parting of ways or a more permanent separation, like death.

Questions to ask yourself right now

Here are some urgent questions for the self that could prove to be life changing:

1. What are my White (inflexible to-die-for), Black (couldn’t-care-less) and Grey (totally context dependent) morals or principles? This is an amazing compass to navigate life with and choose your social circle.

2. Would this event even matter to me in five weeks, five days and five years? This helps you survive when you’re dealt a bad hand and keeps you humble when you’re on top of your game.

3. Who/ what triggers the worst side of me? This helps you address your insecurities and declutter any toxicity.

4. Have I truly done everything in my power to make this (insert goal) work? What if this was a matter of life/ death? This removes your excuses aka your biggest obstacle.

5. If I lose my wealth and social standing tomorrow due to a false rumour, who will stand by my side? This helps you treasure your core support group.

6. If I could improve only one impactful aspect of my life, which one would it be? This helps you solely focus on the weakest link.

7. What is one area through which I can change the world in a small, significant way? This helps you zero in on your larger purpose, the source of your social contribution.

8. If I’d one week/ one day/ one hour left, what would I do that I haven’t done yet? This is a game changer as it can lead you to bridge broken relationships, dive into novel experiences and check off your bucket list.

9. If I’ve one message for the world, what would it be? You can uncover the belief that is closest to your heart.

10. What would I name my memoir? This reveals how you perceive your journey, in sum, or how you want the world to perceive your life.

11. What are some commonly agreed upon rules that I just can’t wrap my head around? You can identify the disparity between your real self and social self, and reduce conformity, in case you’re succumbing to social expectations that don’t work for you.

12. Does this limit me or liberate me? This is extremely useful when applied to people, circumstances and choices.

13. Do I look forward to waking up every morning? If you’re dreading every day, it might be time for a complete makeover.

14. What are the three thoughts/ attributes/ life incidents that I’d never want the world to know about me? This helps you explore your unconscious fears and conflicts, embrace your dark side and resolve feelings of shame and guilt.

15. If you’d unlimited resources, funds and energy, what would you do? There, you just discovered your true calling.

Good luck, everyone 🙂

Copyright © Roshni Ramanan

Blogging tips I didn’t follow (1k follows)

Hello, readers. I never thought I’d do a post that has 1k follows in its title. Not only because that is a milestone that wasn’t even on my radar when I started, but also because I think it’s tacky. But, here we are.

I want to take this opportunity to give a shoutout to all my followers, my dearest readers and the generous souls who leave comments that make my day. Thanks a million for the smiles.

I also realised that, being a private person, my followers don’t know me on a personal level, even after a hundred posts. So, through this post, I’m going to touch upon my blogging journey.

Why blog?

1. I used to crucify my writing (to the point where I’ve thrown many notebooks in the trash once I filled them up) and I wanted to commit to putting it out there

2. I wanted to become a versatile writer, in terms of exploring myriad themes, styles, literary devices and genres. I thought actively engaging with other phenomenal bloggers would be a great step in this direction

3. I ardently desired to make people think and feel

Blogging tips I didn’t follow:

I mention these, not to discredit these tips, but merely to encourage you to do things your own way. There are no ‘rules’ you should feel pressured to follow, that is not in alignment with your personality and your blogging aims.

1. Find a niche

Since my focus is on expanding my comfort zone, I didn’t want to restrict myself. I’ve had the kindest readers who’ve been receptive to poems, terribly tiny tales, listicles, short prose etc.

2. Social media is the key

Since I’m a millennial who is social media free, I’ve never had those platforms for blog promotion and I didn’t deem it necessary to create them. This may change in the future.

3. Exchange is essential

There are many readers who follow me without ‘liking‘ a single post ( it confuses me till date). Perhaps, they expect a follow-for-follow. I read most of the posts in my followed sites feed and hence don’t partake in this shallow exchange.

4. Post daily 

I certainly posted daily in the age of Daily Prompts. But, it’s wise to let your post breathe for a while so that more people across the world get an opportunity to see it. With more likes, you’ve a better chance at appearing on the reader’s feed and gaining visibility.

5. Stats is your guiding light

For the longest time, I hadn’t even noticed the stats section. I’m still tech handicapped that way. Irrespective, I’ll never tailor my posts solely based on likes. I blog for my satisfaction and let my authentic self through. Even if all the numbers vanished tomorrow, say due to a technical default, I’ll still keep writing as I’ve been since I was four (mostly about cats on mats that play with bats).

I do understand the positive side of these tips (so kindly refrain from pointing them out in the comments). My only goal here is to assert that there is no definitive rulebook for success in this platform. Instead of stressing over Dos and donts, I want to empower you to do things that best serve your interests.

My warmest thanks, again, to everyone who’s been a part of my journey.

The WordPress community has filled my heart with its generous and unflinching support. It’s truly gratifying to hear your delightful, intellectually stimulating and encouraging views. I salute every blogger here and every artist in the world.

You don’t need to be an artist to breathe life into art. We can keep all the art around us alive by merely being aware of it. Thank you!

Copyright © Roshni Ramanan

 

 

Meeting monsters

 

I seem to have an inexplicable desire for pain.

More than curiosity. More than fascination. A strange craving, almost.

The way you’d try your hand at a spicier cuisine or experiment with a new hobby, to test your limits.

Perhaps, it’s my ardent interest in Psychology (one of my majors).

Maybe it stems from my belief that I am truly alive when I experience the A-Z of emotions in palpable intensities.

Or is the source subconscious guilt which makes pain feel right, even relieving?

I play with pain, the way a child blows air into balloons until the loud pop!

I am my own rubber band. I fiddle, pull and observe to see how far I can stretch, until the snap.

The breaking point is yet to be found.

Maybe, the reward is in that after feeling gutted, tortured, confused, I can surface up and claim, “That wasn’t so bad.”

We treat certain parts of ourselves as inner graveyards, with unimaginable ghosts.

Meant for paying an occasional, wary visit.

It is freeing to know that the darkness in me is tame in comparison to the illusory demons I suspect I will discover.

Maybe it’s time to invite the monsters under the bed to lay next to us and start a conversation.

You never know. You might just sleep better at night.

Copyright © Roshni Ramanan