scared – Views Splash!

Bring It On

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Journey.”

The time of hope and persistence, honesty and dread, karma and belief, brought with it a surreal series of change. Break it down – the time into fragments, for each is as magnificent in its own right, a bag full of teachings, shining brightly upon my path. That path and where it leads, I know not.

The all-knowing, all giving power that rises within us in times of desperation – is like lights beside the runway to guide not just the stable but more so, the unstable planes. Nothing teaches us more about ourselves than such times of desperation. I learnt a lot.

Yes I was scared. Yes I was confused. Yes the pain in the heart was ever bearing and the brain, paralysed. Yet every stone that hurt me, only powered me, to go that much further. To look for my destiny. To smile at the sight of the end of the earth and sky, that horizon, which I knew would someday be mine.

Desperation when used properly is possibly the greatest tool we can own. Enough of it makes us fearless, uncaring. It shows us the true strength of our character. It gives us clarity on the decisions we make. It guides us to that juncture where we either rise or fall. It stretches us beyond our limits to possibly achieve the unthinkable, or get us ever closer to that “Eureka” moment.

The simplest formulae to tapping and reaping from even the rough times is to say to yourself – “these trying times are another bundle of opportunities”. And believe in it. Keep repeating it to yourself and condition yourself to just do the right thing, the humane thing. There are a million wolves waiting for your shivering carcass to show through your thinning skin but don’t care, don’t bother. I met my long cherished goal after walking on a daunting and humiliating path that forever shamed my self-respect and yet I rose and came through.

It doesn’t shame me now, to proclaim that I went through the mud to reach that Lotus and the effort I put into it. To have got my hands dirty in a coal mine to get to that Diamond. Life seems so complete now and how I wish it would last forever the same way with no further hiccups but then, that wouldn’t be fun, will it?

Bring it on!

I’ve written a few things. Small and insignificant as they are and were, they mean a lot. They give this barren moaning desert of a soul a dream of a thunderstorm, a storm that’ll change the texture of the laughing rocks and fill the air with that earthly smell after the rains.

I’m 30 years old. Old enough to be a father and a manager, and I’m none of them. I see myself in the mirror and an obscure vision of a merely satisfied man appears. A man who wants his petty griefs to end so he concentrates harder on things at hand. His spirit is free but scared to fly high. He’s scared of the vultures and the eagles that hound the skies. And everyday that he wakes up, he wants to be one of them killers.

But he is soft. He loves everyone, wants to respect everyone, gives each opinion a chance to stand and get itself heard. He isn’t scary but only for his demeanor, people hate him. He comes across hard, slaps the living lights out of you to let you in on your true self – your true reflection.

I was 8 years old when I wrote an autobiography about a coin and it’s life. How it travelled from the mint to an ocean. The teacher appreciated it a lot and placed it on the table, on the day of our results for everyone else to read, as an example to emulate in the future. I remember her clapping. Right there, she sowed the itch to write in my heart. I always knew I wanted to write. But what? I never let anyone in on my dream to write until recently.

I’d never written a word and yet I was scared of the evaluation and the seething comments I might receive. I was scared to get ruthlessly dumped out of the vast ocean of writing genius, that waited for me to dip my first toe in it. The pain of it thwarted my heart and I was yet to write a single word.

I’m not extraordinary. I’m simple with nothing more than a few words to offer. I’m clearly short on vocabulary and the grammar ain’t great either.

In 2012 though, I made my move. I had to get a lot of thoughts out of my system. They were clouding my heart and jolting my brain. I opened my account with WordPress after months of washing my face with tears and after further thinking, I decided upon Views Splash, as my pen name. It goes both ways – in soliciting and in providing the views. The name stands just right for me and my readers have done it full justice.

I wasn’t great at first and for a year and 2 months, I never wrote seriously, never made a move to improve, and never wrote enough. It was more thoughtless entertainment. It never satiated me. But inside I always knew, I wanted to do more. A persisting fight with my present wasn’t helping either. I was scared to let my thoughts out for everyone else will know. I’ll become an open book but deep down – I was still digging the grave that I’d been digging for past 30 years.

People have helped me immensely in nearly every matter of my life but not this. They’d built importance and they knew they were a part of every tide I’d faced – whether low or high. Yet they never dared touch my writing, for they’d burn their hands. It was fire they’d play with. Fire of the thoughts that will now flow like magma – uncaring, unrelenting till it cools and settles down by itself providing a more fertile land over time. Land that’ll flourish again with positive thoughts, smiles, and love.

My writing is my reflection and I love how it looks!

Lets see what others have written about this post –

Welcome Brothers

Okay… I don’t normally do two posts for a prompt but today’s prompt has something charming and attractive about it. I thank daily prompt to actually make me do it as I’d been putting this topic off for about a month.

I don’t know how anyone of the three remembers me when I first met them, for I never cared and it’d never bother me but I’m sure I must have had my headphones on at full blast and I wouldn’t have liked their faces!

‘Chucker’ Anuj & ‘Fucker’ Mohan (College mates) –

I make you famous boys! Today our nicknames stand official – I did it!

In our first semester, Mohan and his compatriots from his state, sat and belonged to the front benches. I felt they were slow and he always had the knack of pretending ‘busy’ when he clearly wasn’t. If I’m not wrong, most will remember him the same way. He always looked helpless, a hostelite with a lot of friends but always on a lookout for a real one. He wasn’t easy to talk to but trust me – so wasn’t I!

Anuj however didn’t like warming the back benches but had to, for his local mates from Bhilai warmed those seats and he felt safe with them. He was always a follower. Supremely intelligent guy who lacked originality! We noticed each other a lot especially in our “Electrical” classes. There was always a tiff between me and his mates and he often looked bewildered.

I, on the other hand, was as usual, confused. A new place, new faces – of whom I liked none, a new smell, no pride, supreme pressure. I put a mask on without me even knowing about it, pretending like a cool buddy to everyone who showed the slightest interest, with interesting topics, funny anecdotes, and things that people could relate to. Till date I have no clue about my reputation in my college. At the end I did come out as a loser though.

Anyways back to the topic, we weren’t much friends in the first semester. I have no clue about the two of them but I definitely wasn’t any friends with anyone then – not even my roommate! I was scared to shit pieces of seniors – some of whom looked at me like I was a piece of kryptonite. They would scatter. Come second semester though, I started going out, roaming out a bit and it was this ease, that let these two pass my defense against douchebags. The earliest I can remember is us, seated together on the same bench laughing our asses off at some stupid joke. It was one of these jokes that landed us our first collective punishment, thus cementing our friendship. There was just no looking back then.

Regarding our nicknames though, ‘Chucker’ Anuj chucked while bowling, ‘Sucker’ Samir rhymed with ‘Chucker’ Anuj (I suck a lot too by the way) and ‘Fucker’ Mohan got it simply for a rhyme and no fault of his own.

‘Gittu’ Maddy (friends from our first noon together at Accenture) –

We never actually hit it off. I remember being scared shitless again for I had no results from college to even complete my joining formalities at Accenture. As I entered the banquet hall at some chic hotel, I saw hordes of girls flanking the stage but only a handful of boys seated at the back. I thought, they may have all gone for smoke or something but (as I later found out to my surprise) I was the last one in. We waited for the first break and for some reason, all the boys broke towards the loo. And all of us fitted the washroom. There was no male outside in the hall, and thus came into being (hold your breaths ‘literally’) – “Bathroom Bhar Ke Ladke (Guys that fit a bathroom)” – a term coined by Sir Maddy. We later formed a community on Orkut with the same name. When we headed for the lunch and met outside, I was alone when a pigeon shit all over my right shoulder and bugger there he was standing again laughing his ass off. And I became ‘KT’ that stands for ‘Kabootar Ki Tatti (Pigeons Poop)’ courtesy Maddy. He kept making fun of me and we all kept laughing (for once I didn’t mind it ‘coz my mind really wasn’t in it).

We started hanging out together for some reason appreciating each others company and tolerance to each other and here we are – best friends!

‘Gittu’ by the way means – very small – which goes well with his height!

Welcome Brothers – to my humble abode – Views Splash! –

Dilbert – 09/03/2013

Scared and Scarred

I’m scared. I’m scared now of every new living day of my life for I don’t want any more excitement. I want to retire from my job and do things on my own. I can’t kill my time anymore for I don’t think I have a lot of it left. In this wasteful life, where I have wasted so much without a drive to accomplish anything except being a mediocre employee and a mediocre human being scarred by only being the better person for others and not for himself.

I have missed my age of self fulfilment. I haven’t indulged except for a few gadgets here and there and pizzas if you call that indulging. I am not growing spiritually per se. With a past full of goof ups, with each bad experience having left a scar the size of Titanic within me, I think it’s time to heal them and grow beyond worldly mediocrity and get a bit self-indulgent responsibly.

Tag: scared

Bring It On

That Face in the Mirror

Welcome Brothers

Dilbert – 09/03/2013

Scared and Scarred

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