Turning 30.

13th December 1993 to 25th December 2019. 

For about 26 years and 12 days, I've journeyed through a life worth living. 

At the beginning of this post, when I was framing this sentence in my head, I went for, "I've lived a happy life" then thought, scratch that I was not fully happy. No one can really be. Then I went for "I've lived a life I am proud of". Scratch that, I was not fully proud of every decision I made or every step I have taken. Sometimes it is hard to be proud of our not-very-good selves. At the end of multiple such adjectives, I have realized that no matter the state of mind at any particular moment, or my passing through any phase, it felt like a life worth living. So there we go, for 26 years and 12 days my existence had a meaning. My coordinates at that point had a meaning, and honestly, I thought the word 'I' had a meaning.

When I started this post it was 3rd May 2023 and on 13th December 2023; exactly 225 days I will turn 30 and, there were rarely any days in the last 3.5 years where I wished those particular bad days did not see the light of tomorrow.

3.5 years.
3.5 years is a long time to be lost. 

It is a long time to feel out of your body, soul wandering places, places darker than the last and showing you the uglier and uglier parts of everything you've spent your entire life avoiding and swerving about. But that is the cruel play of the universe. The fear and pain always catch up to us and there is no way out than through it. Will you come out of it, scratched scarred but breathing or will you burn on your way out?..... that is yet to be seen!

Today when I resumed this blogpost it has been a whole year; 1st May 2024 and even though life has not improved for me, I have begun to understand the meaning of adulthood, of the fickle nature of things and how one moment, the world is your stage and another moment, everything can come crashing down around you.  I cry lesser, I react lesser and I shake lesser in fear. I've begun to gain some of the weight I have lost during the most traumatic last 18 months of my life and I am little bit more ready to face life no matter what happens. I have lost so much hope, so many of my dreams, much health in these last months that there is lesser and lesser to lose as you look ahead and everything feels manage-able because what could possibly be worse than the place I am trapped in other than death? And death, with just a little bit notice and not a lot of suffering - I welcome it, though I am sure a simple painless death is not something a lot of us will be blessed with.

I finally understand why there is so much suffering the world and why people go through so much trauma and pain even though there are unlimited shared experiences out there -- warnings, red flags and things that you should never get into and never get yourself into. I myself have claimed that I will NEVER accept something in life, will NEVER let things to happen to me and honestly life is SO CRUEL that it is almost FUNNY. Surely all that loss of breathe from my body and gut is because I am laughing uncontrollably? 

But as I said, now I am 30 really and I genuinely think, for better or worse, I am stronger and more number to the immense pain that everyone said i'd feel if i were alone. First the first 2-3 years after mum left this world, I thought I actually couldn't handle life alone and that I would succumb and die soon. I thought everything would get better if I find another soul who knows and understands pain and suffering, then this life would be worth investing in again because you try and be a better person to help them, save them and share the moments of joy, sorrow, pain and desire together. But God (if there ever was one) had different plans for me. I wonder if it is essential to learn that at the end of the day you have to live for yourself and know yourself enough to wake up for another day. After all, I always wished my mum prioritised herself, took some care of herself and healed herself so that this day of my utter loneliness would never come. We made beautiful pacts, that we could always go when life was hard and that I will always be with her and leave with her when the time came; and then the time came and I did not know how to go. I was scared and paralysed not knowing what she would have wanted. Me leaving with her (and after her) meant everything she has ever sacrificed for me to be who I am today would be wasted and if the day indeed comes where I know it is time to leave, I will actually try to live a little bit without fear, try to learn what is being able to take care of something/someone without fear of abandonment or being taken advantage of and understanding if there ever is something called contentment, how does one teach themselves to learn it. 

And as I mentioned, I think I know better now. Not a whole lot but just a little bit. I definitely know what everyday should not feel like; going to bed hoping that you wake up and everything was just a nightmare and that you get to go back to a few years before. You tell yourself not to cry and let it go because there are not a lot of tears left and crying would give you a migraine and you will not be able to show up for work yet another day; you want to invest in yourself and try to move more, dance more or shut up more because you hope that you will regain confidence and stop doubting yourself more and one day be able to stand up against the demons that are putting you down and walk free once again. Can I do it right away? I am scared but I am much more in that place today than ever before.  Watching your life pass before you and years move infront of you can have a significant effect on building up your strength and believing in yourself -- if only you build and nurture the muscle that made you the woman you were 4 years ago. 

All hasn't been lost or wasted though, I have learnt so much about life along the way and a few of my core beliefs were shaken enough for them to be re-evaluated and reformed.

Not a single evidence throughout the history of the world suggests that life is fair and what you give is not always what you get. Some love is conditional and some of it is unconditional. You don't have to be a great person to be loved or adored and you being a good person doesn't guarantee you the love you think you deserve. You don't live a 100 years if you always done the right thing, ate the right food and stayed away from dangerous habits and you will not die even after years and years of abusing materials; your family is ruined and there will be generational trauma, but hey that is NOT YOUR PROBLEM. The more selfish you are, the more likely your life will be a breeze and the more you concern yourself with morals and ethics, the more you will be restless and written for more pain and suffering. You work harder and you save more doesn't mean you will be the one who will enjoy the fruit of your efforts; infact the more you live on loans and in luxury, the better it is for you because if you die tomorrow, atleast you lived a life unlike the poor souls who save and save only to die in misery, since at the end of the day everyone dies and might as well live in luxury and leave the rest of the people around you to suffer from your choices and your habits and lifestyle while you continue to live your life monarch style. 

There is literally NO RIGHT OR WRONG. Everyone does what they want and rules of what the society made you believe are set by people richer, more powerful or stronger than the others in the absence of resistance! Even the simplest so called traditions during weddings and any event in India are absolutely a ridicule and they are changed completely to the whims of people who are stronger and have more control and power over others. All of them are to put a certain section of humans down and controlled and the same rules will be changed for their loved ones or those they care for.. and if the others or people 'lesser' than you do one thing wrong; apparently they go to hell. BULLSHIT, NO THANKS.  Nobody's life is the same and everyone follows rules until they either outgrow in their rank, wealth or power or until they don't suit them anymore. No two people even from the same household turn out the same and the same water produces beautifully fragrant flowers and on the other hand extremely toxic leaves and roots. No two lives that started the same way will traverse the same way and just because you are lost at one point doesn't mean your whole life is over. With enough grace from the universe and trust in yourself, you can always restart and rebuild. 

Cry, but wipe your tears and sleep. Fall but get up again. If you are ready to pick up a knife to kill you, you can also pack your bag and travel and serve the poor and help people. As long as there are no kids dependent on you, and lives attached to you, YOU are a free person and you own your life to you. You owe it your own self and people who have sacrificed for you and loved you to live a life that you don't regret. And this is my mantra as I navigate my 30s. As long as you don't hurt another person, live your life, do not let anyone control you, do not let anyone else tell you how to live and do not be taken advantage of or be talked to a certain way -- You are good/you will be fine. Do not doubt yourself, do not let your past mistakes affect you, always be ready to learn from your mistakes and hold your head high, keep your worth up, be humble, modest and always choose the right company. Surround yourself with people who respect you, talk positive things, lift you up and make you want to be better. Work with love and passion and get up everyday even though its hard and one day it will be easy. One can turn their life around at any time at any point and you ONLY have today in your hands and nothing about tomorrow is guaranteed. You may have heard it many many times but you will only grasp its true meaning when you are ready for it and this has been the biggest standstill and a turning point for me in life.. yet !! and now I know, that nothing is set in stone and YOU DO YOU. You live your truth and live it well.

..because fool yourself all you want, you know what right feels like !! 

Understanding Lord Voldemort.

Everything I am writing is purely my opinion and having read Harry Potter a million times (really a million times, it is almost sad), I am amazed by how I tend to ask myself new questions each time and how I seem to always find something I haven't thought about before. 

While reading Half-Blood Prince, specifically the part where Dumbledore tries to explain to Harry about Lord Voldemort's past, and a little bit of why he did what he did, I was also curious about this -- Was he a bad person by birth? Do people become who they are as they are born or is it the circumstances that make people who they are. Are they right or wrong? Who is to tell what is right and what is wrong? In the end, is it all simply subjective?

(I do not own this image. Found it on Google, great work and credit to whoever created it)

These are a few excerpts from the book,

"Those whom I could persuade to talk told me that Riddle was obsessed with his parentage. This is understandable, of course; he had grown up in an orphanage and naturally wished to know how he came to be there. It seems that he searched in vain for some trace of Tom Riddle Senior on the shields in the trophy room, on the lists of prefects in the old school records, even in the books of wizarding history. Finally, he was forced to accept that his father had never set foot in Hogwarts. I believe that it was then that he dropped the name forever, assumed the identity of Lord Voldemort, and began his investigations into his previously despised mother’s family – the woman whom, you will remember, he had thought could not be a witch if she had succumbed to the shameful human weakness of death"

There are two questions I would like to ponder, one is "Why did he refuse to believe his mother was a witch until the very last moment" and "Why did he consider her a death, a shameful human weakness, and went on fear it the most and hence tried to conquer it"

Ok, here is a baby boy born in an orphanage surrounded by kids who had no parents, no one to love and learn love from, and the only caregivers were the volunteers and people who worked at the orphanage as a job. A few things he knew as he grew up were -- his parents were dead and hence he was abandoned and he was there! So death sucked. Death is bad, death separates families, death (of this mother) is what got him abandoned and so death is his greatest enemy. Another thing, parents! He was an orphan, different perhaps not from other kids around him but from kids everywhere else. Those kids felt something, they had something. It is the presence of parents! Apparently, parents did any thing for their kids. Everything he sees, all the lessons he is learning seem to talk about love and sacrifice and the abundant care children receive from their parents. Parents are ready to die for their kids. His mother could and should have done anything and everything she can to live for him and care for him, but she did not. So perhaps it was not her choice, so perhaps she was not strong, she was NOT A WITCH. Because if she was a witch, she would have died, would she? Because it did not seem to match what he learned about parents?!

These thoughts, unchecked and unchallenged, on parental love, sacrifice, and death would alone have been enough to completely take a clean, young mind and convert it into a venomous human being called Lord Voldemort.

Another excerpt from the book is, "As he moved up the school, he gathered about him a group of dedicated friends; I call them that, for want of a better term, although as I have already indicated, Riddle undoubtedly felt no affection for any of them"

Of course, he would trust no one. How could he, why would he when everything he has told himself and raised himself to believe is based on abandonment and when he clearly associates every human (be it a muggle and later a wizard) with death and eventually everyone is going to pass on but he had plans to remain forever, so he is very clear and calculative about this fact thought (everything about feelings is just a thought and not a fact as there is no objective truth or lie) that he needed no one.

And this is how I believe the young Tom Riddle had turned into a ruthless, self-serving Lord Voldemort whose greatest fear and weakness was death, strived his entire life to not succumb to it but in the end, ultimately faced death in the worst possible way without ever making peace with any of his short-comings or misconceptions or see an alternate life where he could have approached things differently. 

If you read this and have thoughts on it, please share and let's ponder this together!

Living without light.

[May 7, 2023]

Everything below still valid, got worse and the pain seared my head open twice, both times not enough to end it forever but enough to scream for help and realize no one helps those who don't help themselves. 

[May 18, 2022]

The time is about 1:40am and I just finished a fresh round of uncontrollable sobbing, almost slapping myself to unconsciousness (I am not doing that these days because I am afraid I might break an optic nerve and lose my sight or something), and fighting the intense urge to cut myself open. Whenever I had these extreme thoughts in the past, I used to regain my senses by thinking about all the things I haven't yet seen/done in my life and how it is so worthless to just fade away when I can actually use the courage to instead show a big middle finger to the world and actually for once do whatever feels fine in the moment: whether it is right or wrong. But this time, it felt different. I couldn't even find the courage to tell myself that there is an alternate life, that I still have a chance, and that I can still live the life I thought I'd live. For almost the first time in my life, I truly felt hopeless and that all is really over.

That was a scary thought and I told myself to quickly get out of it because if I dwelled on it any longer, maybe I would act on it. Instead, I quickly started asking myself for forgiveness amidst all the fresh tears and told myself constantly that I am sorry, I did not know any better, this was what I learned my whole life, and that I never got a chance to practice anything different. "Please please please, I am sorry, I am sorry, please, I forgive you, you did not know anything better,  you forgive yourself too. I am sorry, I am sorry, it is alright, it is fine, you will survive, it is okay, please", I told myself while I constantly asked for and gave forgiveness to myself. It did not feel sufficient, it did not feel true but at the very least it helped me exhaust my tears for the night and made me walk towards the laptop instead of the kitchen cabinet. 

Insanely disturbing as it is and totally fucked up, I have no idea what the fuck am I doing in my life and how long can I hold the fort if this is how some nights are going to be. At many points in my journey, I thought there was no tomorrow and I survived all of those nights but now I can clearly see how every time I actually survived, I became a weaker and worse form of myself, with even more hopelessness, a renewed sense of dissent towards my surroundings and one more shiny thing about my personality murdered brutally: the expectations, the confidence, the ability to truly love and the smile that comes from the gut. 

When I was around 10 or 11, an astrologer told my mother that I will come under the influence of some wrong people during my teenage years and their influence will have a lasting negative effect on my life. They also suggested some rituals to reduce this effect and my mother being a mother, scrambled to do everything she can in her strength to guard me, and save me from these effects. For the longest time, it felt like I indeed managed to escape the wrong influence but who would have known that the planets have been waiting to fuck me off-guard at 25 and take my soul for themselves!! 1 point to the universe. 0 to me.

Do I deserve forgiveness from myself? Will the 28-year-old me today, the 30-year-old me later or the 35-year-old me (if I end up making that far) forgive the ME of the past who got me to where I am today through a series of really terrible, nasty, disgusting decisions? Everything that I ever thought I will not do, I did. Everything that I never thought I will accept for myself, I accepted, and everything that I thought I deserved, I never got. The me who grew up on hate, revenge, misery, and indigence and worked all this while to actually get out of that life ended up walking straight into it and more. I became the embodiment of 'we all accept the kind of love we think we deserve', having no knowledge and understanding of what love meant and no means to now learn it. Now how does one forgive oneself if the same self has done everything in their power to destroy you inside and out? Other than giving up and moving on while accepting the punishment, is there really a point of return? A point of emergence? I still do not know how to behave, I have no guide. I don't know how to give and give without doubt, without disdain, without hesitation. I don't know how to trust, how to believe that someone other than my own self could ever care for me, heck, considering everything I have done to myself, I can't even trust myself. Everything I ever tried to run away from, caught up with me and is consuming me and I have no faith that I can survive these extremely painful nights of realization and regret. 

What is going to happen, what am I going to do, will I really lose to life, to myself, my fears, and my demons? Will I stand up and save myself? Do I even know how? 
Is it better to end it all now or continue to let things happen to me until I cannot take them any longer? But what if I create more life and now I am responsible for fucking up a whole other soul? How can I leave then? I don't think I can do that. That truly will complete the cycle of fucked-up by literally making me my mother. Is that my destiny? Is that what I am writing for myself? Is it really better to end it all now? 

[January 2021] 

When I started the blog post, I think I intended to tell myself that I dint have to hate myself so much and hope is possible, and being happier is possible. But even after a whole year and more later, I am still dwelling on this topic and I never ended up finishing the post. Anyway, whatever comes next were still basic thoughts from 2019 that will be added upon now in 2021.

by the way,

HAHAHA, hilarious right? This is me AF !!!

[September 2019]  -- back when the title of the post was 'SELF-HATE'.

Honestly, if you know me you already know why the post title isn't "Self-Love" so welcome back my faithful friends !!! Being a 28-year-old hooman with a good job but sleepless nights, a strong social media game but recently induced anxiety-bouts, excellent friends but extreme insecurity I feel like I am as eligible to write this blog post as I am not eligible. You know what I'm saying??

Since I waste a lot of time in my life worrying about useless things, always self-evaluating whether I made it in life, trying to reduce my celluloid belly fat whose determination is definitely stronger than mine, eating saturated fats, and scrolling through Instagram to be in the know of who is getting married to who, I figured maybe I can use a little bit of that time to actually talk about things that haunt me when I sleep or when I am not able to sleep to be precise.


[9 Dec 2019] So for the longest time, I kept thinking, "Gawd, I hate that person, I hate fake people, I hate coffee without sugar, I hate people who go for runs willingly, blah blah blah" but guess what I truly hate day in and day out every day? Me. That's right.  I hate myself the most because every time I hated "that" person, it was probably coz they were someone who had something I wanted and did not have!! I hated people who I thought were fake coz they were living life the way they wanted and the ways I never dared to and then every time I thought I hated them, I hated myself more for not being them!!! Sure, I am proud of what I've done and where I am but that's only like 1 day a year or when I have to defend myself to people who I can't stand or try to show they are better than everyone else. But deep down, I was most upset craving for this life that is only possible in movies and the happiness that only comes in bouts.

<.......wow, really stumped for words right about here......>

[23 Dec 2019] I really don't know why it has taken me more than 4 months to write this blog post. And while I am writing it today, I have a small feeling that I might not be able to finish it today as well. If I did, Yay. If I dint, "Ok Google play Sia Elastic Heart". If you've never heard the song, you should listen to it ASAP. It goes somehow on the lines of "Another one bites the dust, oh why can I not conquer love". Except, it's all aspects of life for me, not just love. We are constantly judging ourselves against faceless entities and I say faceless because these standards just like my self-hate are ever-changing and keep me speechless for months over.

The people I love.

(So apparently I need to write happier posts. People literally actually messaged me asking why am I so sad and dark all the time in my posts. Hahaha, the best thing about those messages is me getting to know that someone is actually reading my rants! Fine fine, I'll treat the souls with happier content. Atleast every now and then. Sometimes. Not a lot, Ok? And this is one such post)

Something really cute and funny happened recently. (by the time I am posting this, it has already been over 7 months since it happened)

My grad school roommate and friend of 4 years visited me in Seattle and stayed with me for a week and when it was time to drop her off at the airport to go, I was so sad and said "Noooooo don't go". 

Now if you know me very well (which a lot of people reading this probably don't) you'd know that I barely ever say things like "Don't go", "Don't leave so soon",  "Stayyy", etc. Heck, I feel like I can say "I love you" faster than "I miss you", but this time it was truly different and the week we spent only got better because my other college friend was also living in the same building as I am and all 3 of us were practically together the whole time and it was just like the good old college days. Great food, great music, lots of memes, and a wee bit of gossip. 

I thought about this, why was I so reluctant about saying 'Goodbye' this time? As the days and weeks are rolling by (a more nonchalant way of saying, as I am getting older) am I afraid that my best years are behind me and that I don't have much to look forward to, or am I worried that nothing can be better than the days I've already lived.  I already see this subtle change in me where I am spending every special day with people close to my heart very tenderly and preciously as if I cannot let it go waste or not feel it to the fullest. Anyway, is the post getting sadder? Fuck that shit, this is the time to be happy. 

Hey, people that I love !! --- You know who you are!! Each one of you played a very special role in my life at various crucial points in my life and I cannot thank you enough for that. I absolutely love how we roll, how we cry together in person or on calls, how we bond on memes and dark humor, our late-night restaurant hunts, being there for each other for family events, interning together, growing up in life together, mad dances to Bollywood music, long drives, road trips across states, planned plans, unplanned plans, everything, everything has the most special place in my heart. Every new step I am taking towards my tomorrow is making me hold on to every step I already took ever more closely and dearly. Everything I am today is because of you all; the good, the awesome, and sometimes the ugly too but that's on me. In the end, it was always me who took the steps, but hey, like Chance the Rapper said I am turning the Ls into Lessons!!


-- another post. another abrupt ending. My consistency in being inconsistent is another level !! heck yea, goodnight !! 

Do we really ever heal?

Disclaimer: This post has no continuity, no start or end, no conclusions, and nothing to gain from whatsoever. Not even a chuckle. Trust me. You won't even smile.

This is an old story, a draft left alone but not forgotten for a long time. If it wasn't for my OCD to have nothing left as drafts, I may have stayed away from finishing or publishing it; but all stories need to be told, all feelings need to be expressed; (as long as they aren't harmful to others; do no evil)

The death of Sushant Singh Rajput, an actor from India, caused quite the stir in the media and received a lot of opprobrious attention. People created conspiracy theories out of thin air, some coz they sounded interesting, some coz histrionics is the norm of the day and some coz, well, it served some folks better! Of all the wild theories, one of them gained no traction. People lost interest in it very quickly because it seemed possible, simple, and real. 

Sushant killed himself because he missed his mother, who passed away years ago, intensely while all along dealing with the pressures in the industry and the ephemeral nature of fame. He just couldn't go on.

This is the one theory I could completely understand, had no doubt believing, and seemed like a perfectly logical explanation. There isn't any battle you can't fight in this world when you have that one person behind you that you completely trust, love, and live for. That one person who could give you all the strength to take any next step, the one whose assurance is the only thing that matters, and the one for whom you are doing what you are doing.

Being from a modest income household that valued education more than anything else, his mother probably was his constant support and told him that the harder he works, the more he succeeds! He is a simple guy from a simple family brought up by parents who always told him that his achievements and resulting happiness were directly proportional to his efforts. And there he went into his career, gave all he could and then received a lot in return..but even when he got all he wanted, where was his one person for whom he did everything and now that he has the success and the fame, how could he share all that with his dear mum anymore? He did everything he could and more but where was the happiness he was promised? 

I mean is this feeling so hard to understand? Why does someone's demise always have to be a scandal or a sensation? Are simple, normal real feelings not cool enough? or not worthy enough to cause pain? 

Successful or not, celebrity or not, he is only human. He had emotions, dreams, goals, people he loved and missed. Let him fucking be. 

I have almost always written my blogposts in only two states of mind: utmost sadness and intense feeling of gratitude. Even on those days when my posts seemed quite funny and witty, all that came from the strong sense of gratitude in my gut and I could take the smile on my face to my post and then to any reader's eyes because I felt the talisman of thanks inside me. Simple feelings of sadness and fear are real. They are more real than thrill, excitement, and elation. 

Also, I was recently wondering how my mind works in very mysterious ways.. and if mine does, probably there are few others out there who could relate. If there is anything I've come to accept, it is that I am not alone even in the most bizarre circumstances of life. Sure, I may not find company and comfort in the vicinity but I am assured, there is someone out there in another corner of the world, another lifetime or another galaxy with a similar experience.

There I go losing my track.. here is the thing,

When I miss people, and they are so far gone that there is nothing that can be done about it, in spite of having a million good memories, I always only think of all the 'sorrys' I owe(d) them, all the times I wasn't there for them, how I never seemed to have done enough and how I always fell short of what they needed me to be. EVERY SINGLE TIME!! For real, there are lots of good memories, lots of things I did right or tried to do right until the last moment, lots of small milestones; BUT NO.! I only only remember all the unexpressed gratitude, and the unsaid 'I am so sorry's. 

Why does my brain do me like that? Am I alone in this? Am I a masochist? Am I born to be miserable?

Most of the time, I go day in and day out completely numbing myself to these inner voices. As far as my 9am to 11pm goes, they are non-existent. Every now and then, a feeling or two, a tear or two tries to escape my otherwise perfectly smiling face but I am now a professional at totally masking it off and there is no foundation ever made out there that masks bullshit better than the one I've rubbed all over my (?) [what should I even say? face? heart? life?] But it does get to me, you know, I am constantly running but it always catches up with me 'cuz that's the thing about pain right? It demands to be felt.  

Anyway, who cares? Why am I even writing this? Why can't I write about happier things? Preachy shit. Inspirational shit. I don't know, just fucking saner shit, right? Well, I don't know the answer to that. I don't think it is fair for me to show a really wonderful image of myself when that is not what I am all about. If someone cares enough, someone gives a fuck, maybe they will care enough to know that it is not all bling and glitter. Plus, gotta keep my writing skills sharp for a day when I might have to write an autobiography. Who knows, I could still be a superstar one day. I definitely want my wiki page to mention somewhere that I used to write small blogposts for 5 readers. (remember I used to have 9 earlier? I feel like 4 might have unfollowed coz I'm so inconsistent and bleak). Whatever, this is all I could muster. 

Happy Saturday. 
(I mean imagine my nerve, right?)

Dear Y'all.

Gulla's BookClub Part 2

(Just thought I’ll throw the title out there so that I can fight for TradeMark or patent rights if such time ever comes. Clearly I don’t know how patents work. Who’s surprised??)

Y’all, what’s popping. Let’s just assume that my second book suggestion came almost a month after my first because I am the kind of nice person who gives enough time for my people to catch up and stay motivated. Alright? It is definitely not because I am me and me is lazy, unfocused, sleepy, netflix-addicted, crazy…. why am I like this????? Yeah, definitely not because of the latter. Totally giving you guys time. Right, moving on.

So how many of you actually read ‘The Hate you Give’ because I swore it would be great.

None? Well, I knew that. Will you guys read it if I Venmo $10, guys I am so bored and if I could quiz you off the book you read, I’d do that.

But, that’s okay. Maybe the book wasn’t your type. Just like self-help books aren’t my type. I swear if I have to read one more book on ‘How to make pennies into Paris trips’ or ‘Time and Tide waits for none’ or ‘5 traits of a 5-year-old self-made billionaire’ really I’ll drink that disinfectant.

Where is all the shallowness, eh? Let’s just read fiction and pretend everything is A-okay. Or even better, let’s just read sad romantic Nicholas Sparks novels and dump our perfect partners to create some drama in our lives, what say? I think I set the stage quite well, my only 2 friends also stopped reading this post from here on, I am sure.

But, if you did not, any guesses on what would be my this week’s book suggestion?

And this time NO MOVIE, only BOOK ok? I repeat. MOVIE DOES NOT DO JUSTICE TO THE BOOK. I need to stop yelling, you got the point.

I am not great at keeping things short or NOT beating around the bush, obviously, so I won’t tell you that this story is about this man who starts off aimless, directionless in life and then when he makes a chance decision to join the army, he meets a sweet, not so beautiful but kind-hearted girl and falls in love and what happens next is what breaks(or makes) our heart. But I will tell you that this is not your usual happily-ever-after story where everyone gets what they want or where good people get good things. Clearly, as I grew up, I realized that life doesn’t work that way, it never had, and maybe that’s why I loved this book like I loved no other love story. Because in all honesty, it did not seem like just a love story to me.

If you read this book, we can talk more about it. I love people who read books and read them with fervent passion and involvement. Not algebra books, not biographies either. Books like Dear John :P

Please read it, Okay? And let me know what you think!!!

Hold me close, I’m serious!

Okay, we know there is an elephant in the room right now with all of us. But we are not gonna talk about it ok? Let’s ignore it, pretend it's not there and hope it’ll go away. But also since we spent thousands of moolah to be where we are and be filled with words, let’s stay out of its way and not be trampled by it. Let’s do our part of ignoring it well with style. And indoors. So I need your help here, hold me close. Hold me really really close.

                                                                                                                                         — A Book,2020

That’s quite a captivating introduction eh? Now I am not a book anymore, I’m me, Gulla. 

Trust me, writing this blog post is the last thing I should be doing right now. I have a tonne of work to do and if my manager is reading this, I LOVE MY JOB. I LOVE MY TEAM. But then, I am watching all these people (WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE) doing all these great things from home and I never thought I could catch a FOMO even when all I am asked to do is stay put, like omg. And then I’ve been telling myself these following things,

• Uff all these people posting cool cooking vids, bringing the vine back n all are crazy
• I barely have time to wake up and then stay up. Ain’t nobody got time for greatness.
• Damn, everybody is using their time so well, I am too late. Why you gotta be late always, idiot. I am an idiot.

…well, I could go on and you get the gist. 

So here I am, out here, today, rallying on behalf of all the other folks like me who are late in the game and still figuring out when is the right time to change from our pjs into well, fresh(er) laundry, and still try to make something out of this unexpected time we got right??? I just want you all to know that we are not too late. We got time. And we can still pick up a hobby, text that dude we made eye contact near Walgreens back(DONT), buy a cactus, you know..whatever!!

I won’t be telling you what you can do with your time, BUT if you are a bookworm like me and are looking for book suggestions, read further!! Yea, that's what i'm going to do. Read books and make folks read them too. Gulla’s book club, how does that sound? Should I file for a patent? Too soon?

This week’s book suggestion issssssss *DRUMROLLL*

‘THE HATE YOU GIVE’ by Angie Thomas.

This book is super special to me coz I watched the movie first and I was crying on the plane all the way from Madison to Seattle while the lady next to me was looking at me trying to tell me that it’s gonna be alright but she knew it was going to make her seem as crazy as I was coz it was a movie. You feel me? yea it was intense. So obviously I had to order the book online and then read it and cry more for real. Now I cannot tell you why I cried without ranting on and on about the book but I can promise you, it is beautifully written and for sure helps us realize what we have and what we have been given.. and maybe also what we don’t have and hence have to fight harder?! 

Also, I like you if you like the books I like *wink* Cherry on top like no other!

If you aren’t a huge book person but still continued reading, you are in luck coz Imma pronounce the movie adaptation of this book is very very very good !!!!! So you can watch that too!!!! 

I usually don’t ask for feedback or expect anything back from my posts but if you did read this book earlier or read the book now, HMU !! Lmk what you think :) 

Happy reading y’all. 

Imma go work >.<

It’s gonna be alright. Mostly.

I don’t know who David Levithan is, but he spoke the words I knew but needed to hear again.

11 Dec 2019

When I started writing this blog post, I am on the 25-hour flight to India that I booked 8 hours earlier to visit my sick mother who has been fighting for her life for over a year now. It has taken me all my will, all the money I saved stringently over the last few months and all the creature comforts that I have developed a yearning to, to stop killing myself or hurting myself mindlessly. The hurting part might have been because I don’t trust American health insurance but that’s not the point.

Before I go on, I better give a disclaimer that a very unruly upbringing, lonely childhood and too many western books I read as a child might have messed me up and what I do or say in life might not be appreciated by or applicable to all. Don’t get me wrong when I say ‘unruly’, by ‘unruly’ I meant my mother never posed any restrictions on how much I played on the streets with the other kids as long as I finished my homework, she let me travel all alone to school few miles away as a 10 year old if it meant I will get good education there, she let me attend any university I wanted if it meant growth and development irrespective of the cost and as a Telugu girl from a lower middle class family with too many opinions (or dreams/possibilities) and a big mouth, if that’s not ‘unruly’, tell me what is.

But the problem is you know, I wish my mom never gave me so much freedom, I wish she never taught me to be independent, I wish she never let me make my decisions or helped me in doing so. I wish she never let me leave home or the country and I wish she never let me obtain this life that is a huge gift and the life that I should be thankful for. Because I don’t think it is fair that she gave it all to me, possibly hoping I’d be happy and now not being around to watch me or let me share it with her. I also think it is unfair that she has been my cheerleader all through life, cheering the loudest for me at every step. So loud, that nothing else mattered and nothing else was heard, I forgot what game I was playing. For the longest time, her voice was my only guide, my only companion and honestly the only thing I needed. I wasn’t as independent as I thought I was because my entire happiness, sanity and direction needed that voice and that support. And therefore, I also think it is pretty fucking unfair that now I cannot hear it no more and not one book among the hundreds I read taught me how to believe, trust and hope everything is going to be alright here on.

For a while few hours ago, I was mad at her for having to be on this flight because it was sudden and I didn’t have the balls to disrupt my perfect life and I was too busy feeling sorry for myself for being ‘only 25’ to be facing the possible loss of a parent and how devastating it is for me. I was also mad at everyone else around me who seemed to have it together, had ‘normal’ lives and who I know would never understand what I must be feeling whether or not they cared. And it took me denial, grief and then some quiet to be ashamed of myself and to understand it is okay, when the many flashes of every little thing she did for me all these years flooded on. Then I realized in the simplest of terms that is it not my duty or responsibility as a daughter to be there but it is actually my responsibility as a human to be grateful for everything I have been given in life and then give it back unconditionally when needed. And as to feeling a sense of resentment for everyone else, I do not know what it is like to not have food or shelter growing up or having to be shot in the head for wanting to study so I am going to learn to be more empathetic and even more grateful than I am to just what is than keep thinking about what could be.

Now how did this post help y’all ??

I’ve been rambling for about 700 words of how pathetic I feel and how I am going to try and not feel that right? In between my lines, please once put yourself in my shoes and think of everything I may have thought. Or better yet, think of the last worst thing you’ve faced, something that shook you up so much, you were super scared to face but then you eventually had to go through it with anyway. 

Did the horrific memory come flashing through? Wait, it actually did not sting as much as it did when you faced it right? Maybe you’ve come out of it stronger, maybe you just grew numb, maybe your heart is a bit more of a rock than it was before. Whatever it is, it is fine, and you’ve made it. You survived. And in every horrible thing coming your way from now on (well, I am sorry to be the bearer of this bad news, life is not all fun and games) you will feel terrible, unready and God-forbid lonely but if you can just grit your teeth, cry your eyes out and remind yourself to be the bad-ass you are, you will definitely come out on the other side.

Wholly?

All Positive?

Better than ever?

Maybe not. 

But definitely with one-level of badassery upgraded and one beautifully adornable scar to remind you of your journey and maybe one extra reminder to be grateful for what is.