Hero In Your Mind

It is 1.30 a.m. and can you guess what or who I'm thinking about? Trust me, I've been thinking of a man who passed away 14 years and 26 days ago. I was a nine year old kid while he expired, which I would say was not even the age to understand a person or what death meant in this world. Though I haven't spent much time with him, he is the one I relate to myself the most. I don't really have any analytical explanation for this sense of belonging. Thinking of him, surfaced a couple of incidents narrated by my mom and aunt. As always, I would like to get into both of their shoes to narrate the incidents. Early 2000's  It's just another hectic day at the office only to come back home to do household chores and manage children. One of them is nine and the other twelve. Whatever I'm today is because of the education I pursued and the job I earned. What can I say about life? It is constant hustle at office and house while aspiring to build a new house. Though m...

While I had the trait of voicing out my opinions right from my childhood, there are times that I stayed calm even when something was troubling me. I assumed both Type A and Type B persons' traits. A: The one who doesn't believe his/her voice doesn't matter. The one rather prefers to stay calm rather than deny or challenge the other person who is causing trouble in some way. The one who'd rather be a silent victim than face it. B: If something doesn't align with what they believe, they question. They ask for what they want. They stammer, yet are loud. As humans, we want to feel belonged and any disturbance caused  in the process of becoming one among everybody is excruciating. To stand out from the crowd means being a criminal. Forget the criminal act, what if you're ridiculed or mocked at? You might also lose the advantage that you're to receive if the other person's view is denied. Gauging all we might lose and fearing all the unfavourable circums...

As I retrospect, there are few thoughts I started adhering to because of the tough times that had come on my path. Tough times could be different in different people's lives. It could range from your work not being recognized to being overloaded with work. Also from, almost dying to worrying about the acne that just popped up. It is rude to judge other's own pain. It could be a tiny thing to you but it is obviously something gigantic to the person experiencing it. If there was a universal way to categorize what pain is inconsiderable or what pain is excruciating, there would be no psychiatrists on this planet. I really think that the term 'healing' is misinterpreted. To some, throwing up their whole responsibility on someone is healing and this especially happens in intimate relationships. To some, complaining or getting addicted to a thing or feeling is healing. If someone or something could heal your pain, what are you here for? It is dubious to believe that som...

Life was always beautiful to me and all the people around seemed nice until an incident happened and left my life in wreckage. With persistence I got over it only to get dragged down by the people again. I fought back only to lose again. I rose only to fall again. Nothing was helping. Unlike everybody who complain against the world for the doings, I indulged in myself to find faults with me and fix them up. No. That isn't helping either. Self blame isn't the solution.                                        I had the very question since the first incident happened that turned my life upside down. 'Why doesn't the world seem to be as beautiful as it is before? Why? Did the world change or my perspective towards it did? Why is everything eventually becoming a misery that is drowning me down?' Do you have an answer? Neither do I supposing that you don't. If you do, please let me know. I cou...

This post is out of regret of not taking the opportunity. Do you wonder what opportunity it is? Is it the opportunity to earn money or gulping down the yummiest food in the town or the place you wanted to visit? No. Absolutely not. It was the opportunity to help. Usually in India, people prefer two wheeler vehicles unlike many other countries. I rode my sister to a phone shop where I sat on my bike as she left. After wasting my energy in useless thoughts, I saw a man trying to come out of the glass door that said 'pull' from the same shop my sister had gone to. He was old. Frail. Powerless. Like typical old men he wore a dhoti and held a basic phone. However I found his face looked disheartened. I didn't know the reason. I just assumed that he didn't find the thing he came for or more likely that he didn't receive enough help; the reason I was more inclined to believe. The phone he was carrying couldn't give them more money but they could have guided him. I...

I now have to thank my mom, for doing wonderful things in this beautiful world. I was not aware that I would write my first article on the blog about my mom's experience. While I was pondering over the topic, the incident which pierced through my heart and settled, came out dancing to fall into words. I'm writing down this article putting myself into my mom's shoes and that's more than exciting to me. Through the crowd I made it to reach the central compartment which is already overly filled with passengers. It was so congested and I had to stand facing the opposite person who is in his early twenties, perhaps my elder daughter’s age, there would be no room for anyone to pass by the aisle. The boy decided to make some space so that I could at least lean and there by causing no traffic. In the next station, few passengers got down. When I was about to make my move to settle down, there came about three people among which one scooped up a kid in his arm murmuring th...