Why a writer is different?

What diffrentiates a person who writes from others?

Now, here by writer, i don’t mean only the professionals but anyone who writes..any one who write diary, notes or anything.
Any one with some other profession, who writes for only themselves.

A person who can write has deeper thoughts and perspectives. He can be quite and uninterested sometimes.. But thats because he is thinking about something that is not reachable to others. Maybe he is trying to figure out something because he has a very messed up mind.
I believe if i write..i write because it gives me peace, it gives me my self satisfaction. Writing is something i’d always do because i grow a little bit every time i write something.
Whenever i feel..that i m messed up or there’s so much chaos going on in my mind, i write. And it feels better, much better. I don’t need a reason or a mood to write something, it just goes on when i feel like doing so.
Its my way of making me better, making me more secure and confident. Its like a remedy.
For those who can express themselves by writing.. U r special and u have a different way of expressing. Be proud, be very proud of what u have and what u can do.

#justwritingappreciation

Independence

When we get attached to people, we feel good, we feel like we have extended our loop. Its absolutely fine to get emotionally attached to someone but its not at all okay to rely on them for ur every happy moment that u deserve.

May be the person u r with or the people who are ur close, are actually very good people but sometimes they do things that hurts u..and maybe they don’t do it intentionally but u do get hurt. And u do feel like u r alone and u r sad.. But thats because u relied on them for ur happiness.
We all have to be so strong that if we feel sad and lonely, we could make ourselves happier without them, just do anything that makes u feel better. Sometimes the good people in our life may not behave good or do good with us…so we should know that their behavior shouldn’t affect us…and our happiness has to be in our own hands.

I do have very nice people in my life and i am blessed to have them..but i expect things from them that they don’t do always and if it makes me sad, i try to do my own happy things and i don’t want to beg people for being with me for my happiness.

I just wish to have two things in my life…one in my peace of mind and the other is my independence.. My independence from people, from their fluctuating behavior and from their fakeness.
My inner peace of mind is mandatory for my confidence and happiness.

Love yourself completely

​We are all different in our own ways and we know our own strengths and weaknesses but what we don’t know is , its equally important to love our bad part as we love our good part. 

When i see around myself i see so many people with so many differences between them, with so many strengths and weaknesses… When i see myself, i find few strengths and few weaknesses… And trust me i have never seen any one who is a perfect human. And i haven’t met anyone who has even seen one. 

 

But i have seen those people who love themselves with what they have, who do not complain about their life, who simply choose happiness and peace over everything. That’s what happens when we stop complaining and start loving ourselves, happiness and peace. 
A 8 years old girl who belonged to a poor family in my village was sitting under a tree and laughing loudly… I was annoyed at that moment because summers are not at all pleasant in my village. I wanted to run away from there as soon as possible but when i saw her laughing and enjoying, i felt like knowing the reason of her happiness in that heating weather. So i asked her “hey, whats up? Why are u so happy? ”

She looked at me and stopped laughing and smiled “happy? M always happy”

 “no, i mean why were u laughing?” I asked

 ” because i saw that monkey on the tree who behaves very much similar like us, isn’t he, see there” she replied while pointing her fingers on the tree near her. 

 I kept quiet for a while and came back to my room..

 I realized how much i was complaining about everything, about food, electricity, people, and so much more. I could have tried to make myself busy there, i could have enjoyed in that village if i wanted to but i didn’t. That small poor kid who doesn’t have ever felt how AC feels was much more happier. She wasn’t complaining but loving whatever she had. That’s what life is about, loving and letting go. We all have something to be happy about and something to be sad about, why not choose to be the happy one. 

The beginning

This is just a beginning, butterflies in stomach, chills down my spine, over-coming thoughts, excitement, nostalgia, chaos, so much more… Words are insufficient to describe the feeling.

Thinking back, when i was trapped, when i was scared,when i was falling apart, every day was a struggle. When there was no sunshine.

It was the first day of college when I was rushing to the class and getting nervous and exited at the same time.

 The pain i had suffered was a tiny peck in front of the Felicity i was feeling… The past was just a past and the dream was right in front of me…waiting.

I had planned so much abt this time but when things happen, it happens the way its meant to be. The real moments follow no plannings and limits. They are unpredictable and unforgettable. They are piceless…

Days are passing by very fastly..and i still need some time to realize that the hurdles are gone and new life, new people, new world is waiting….

Stammering

Broca’s area? Lack of self confidence? Hesitation? I don’t know, why? But i stammer. I struggle everyday. I remember one my ‘so called’ friends asked me one day.

“Why do u stammer? You do it intentionally??”

“Why the hell would i do it intentionally? I don’t know about it.”  I replied. I was embarrassed.. I turned red..my heart started beating faster and i was holding my tears ….i didn’t want to look weak and vulnerable. 

“Its weird. You don’t stammer all the time …its rare but u do it.”  She said as if she was mocking at my disability. Fuck it…! I don’t like calling it a disability. I stammer rarely.

I wanted to ask her that why is she fat or why the heck is her skin colour dark? But, i couldn’t do it.. These are not under human’s control and so is my stammering.

There have been zillion times, when i felt embarrassed and low due to my stammering. I have seen people laughing and mocking at me…even they mimic me…

” G..g..g..good morning..!” And they laugh out loud. 

Trust me, it feels terrible. I don’t know why, people exaggerate it so much. We are humans and we are not perfect, so am i. Sometimes i just cry and ask myself, why do i care? But i can’t resist it when i see people making fun of me.

There are many times when i want to speak something and i miff with my mind because i think, i will stammer? Will i again screw it up? Shit..!! I feel scared….

I can say it happens when m nervous or panic but it happens in a jiffy. I can’t control it, even if i want to. I stammer and instead of loosing heart, i try to minimise it. I will consult a doc also ..

I didn’t choose to stammer but i have grits to live with it and flaunt my flaws. 

#flawsomeisawesome #iamflawsome

Life as we know it

Its just the beginning. Its my first post.

We all know what life is. We all have different vision and we see life in different way. There are people who are so poor that they even struggle for one meal. On the other side of coin, the rich one’s don’t know what to do with so much money that they have. This is pathetic. This diffrence is something that needs to be decreased as soon as possible.

The poor one’s may visualize their life as struggle and pain. I always thought that poor people may take their life as a burden. I used to observe our maid when i was a kid. My mom was very kind to her but i barely saw her smiling.

‘Mam, our life is a battle.’ Once she told to my mom. I don’t remember too much. But did make an imagination about their difficult life. 

Few months ago, i went to my hometown (bihar). I always love visiting their. Pure air and natural beauty always fascinates me.i remember i was sitting under a tree with my sister. We were talking and feeling the alleviation. I saw 3 kids playing there. They were almost 6 to 9 yrs old. I asked their names. 

“Shashi”  one of them replied.

“So, do u go to school?” I asked looking at him. He was cute and adorable. He seemed happy and relaxed.

“Yes, sometimes” he smiled.

“Why? Sometimes?”

“Because, our teacher teaches us sometimes. She is busy in making sweaters at school.”

“What!!!!” I was speechless. What could i do. I was shocked.  he was happy because he was innocent and clueless. But i could feel the inappropriateness.