Stay another day.

Dear You,

I’ve been meaning to tell you that things are going to be okay. Maybe not the way they used to be, perhaps not the way you once wished it would.

But, you are going to be okay.

I don’t know if everything will work out in the end, but I know that you’ll be fine.

The scars from your battles will be gentle reminders of how you survived your worst nights. You will painfully remember that Saturday evening when you boarded the flight, without a single shard of hope.

But you’ll also remember how you made it to your destination.

Life is hard. The lows are somehow entrenched in our memory, while the highs seem so fleeting.

But if you’re breathing,

And your heart is beating,

And your brain, lungs and every other part is functioning well,

Then you’ll survive this, no matter how times in the past you fell.

And if it’s getting difficult please remember this.

Everything comes to an end.

Good, bad and life.

What would I tell you?

I sometimes wonder what I would tell you if I met you when you were younger.

Would I hold your hand right at that moment when your heart was going to break, or would I stop you from doing the things that would lead to a lifetime of pain?

On that note, you should perhaps remember that there really is no “lifetime of pain”. I just said it for dramatic effect.

Sometimes there are several flashes of pain, during other days the suffering is prolonged and feels never-ending, but it will.

I wouldn’t say that happiness is fleeting like a butterfly. Instead it’s like a wave, strong on a few days, on others it’s but a ripple. And even though it will recede, remember it always comes back.

So maybe take both with a pinch of salt? Let them shape you, but don’t let them change who you are.

You should however pay attention to the small pockets of peace when life traps you in a flooding cave of emotions. They will keep you alive.

And remember, life is beautiful but can be chaotic, so sometimes you’ll need people to help you stay afloat, hold on to them for dear life. They can be friends, family and a stranger in the airport who offers you water when you’re crying.

But on most days it will just be you.

Walking on sunshine

Dear You,

I don’t know how you’re doing right now, but I hope life is treating you well.

It’s a new year, which means we all have another 365 days to come up with new ways to ruin our lives.

This year was particularly challenging for me, since I moved away from home. Some moments were great and some were miserable, like that one time I managed to get bathroom cleaner in my eye and convinced myself that life with one eye wouldn’t be that bad.

However, despite all the ‘firsts’ and ‘lasts’, one of my most special memories was during a hot summer evening at the vegetable aisle in a grocery store.

I’ve always struggled with opening plastic bags, the kind that holds vegetables. There have been many such occasions, but this day was particularly difficult. My day hadn’t been that great, and when the bag refused to open I was two seconds away from bawling. Until one kind stranger stepped in and opened a bag for me.

It might seem like an insignificant thing, but it is one of the most precious memories that I choose to carry with me into 2019. There were so many people that day, but no one stopped to help except for him and for that I’m very grateful.

I know life can get very, very bad at times and I really hope that you find all the strength to go through it. But I also want you to remember that it’s when things are at their worst that kindness will make its way to you.

So be kind and good.
And if you ever get the chance, open a bag for someone.
Have a fabulous year.

As you were.  

29 is just a number.

Dear You,

You’re currently packing your bags for that holiday in Pondicherry, so it’s rather endearing that you’re unaware about how next year this time, you’ll be in Muscat.

The year will be a whirlwind of good and bad – yes, yes like any other year. However this year will be about new things, like living alone. It’ll be about falling in love again, with new places and people and realising how awful and wonderful life can be. You’ll go through some terrifying moments and you’ll make it, but you’ll have to hold on tight.

You will find yourself lonely on some days, but you will also find out that the greatest lessons in life are learnt alone.

On some days you’ll bawl like a baby, but you’ll realise that sometimes there will be no one to soothe your fears. That’s all right, because you’ll learn that you can be your greatest friend.

You will not need a knight in shining armour, mainly because you are one. But on some days, you will graciously accept help from one who is armed with a plunger.

You are crazy, so when you find someone who is wholly accepting of you (despite all your flaws), hold on to them. Remember, it’s a privilege to be loved for who you are, don’t pass that up because of what someone else thinks.

Learn to love your family and friends. They can (and will be) annoying, but life can be incredibly tasteless without them.

Accept help when you can,

Stand your ground when you’re right,

Speak up for women and DO NOT let silence be your weapon,

Say please and thank you and always remember,

The best gift you can give yourself is

Love.

Happy birthday.

Ever yours,
P

Angry girl.

source

Artist Libby VanderPloeg: https://gph.is/2OJNiHc . Instagram: https://bit.ly/2nRBDZK

Dear You,

 

The problem is not that you get angry at how unjust things around you are.

Every single woman, at some point of her life must have been subjected to something sexist. Something that seemed trivial, something that was said in passing, as a joke, just as an “honest question” ( whatever that means).

Sometimes, people ask you to smile, sometimes they ask you to smile more. On some occasions you’re asked to calm down, for some people you’re too loud, too boisterous. Very un-ladylike.

Sometimes, they don’t take you seriously at work.

There are boxes and if you don’t fit in them, you’re an anomaly.

The problem is not that you get angry,
The problem is that you don’t stay angry long enough.
Rage, rage.

Hello darling, how are you?

Dear You,

I’m writing with the hope that you’re fine and well, alive enough to read my letter. Alive not just physically, in a way that your heart is beating fine and your organs are working just the way they should. But alive enough to soak in the wonder that is all around you.

So you’ve had your heart broken, wouldn’t really be the first time, would it? Will it be the last? Perhaps. Maybe not.
Don’t sulk, isn’t a broken heart a sign of one that was loved anyway? I didn’t make that up, I read it somewhere.
That’s where I get my wisdom from these days — conversations of strangers, random comments by people on social media and some very old books.
Strange places to find solace, isn’t it? Not the books though, they always find a way to soothe my weary soul.

Sorry, I have a way of losing track.
So, while the world seems like a terrible place to live in, especially now that you’re nursing a broken heart, I want to remind you to be a little more kind to everyone. But you’ll first have to start with yourself.
Allow yourself to cry, and when you feel like you can’t breathe anymore, gently remind yourself that you can, you will and you already are.

Be strong, be kind and be gentle.
Say please, thank you and sorry when you have to.
Wash your feet and face before going to bed.
And remember you might feel broken right now,
But you’ve never been more whole.

I woke up like this

ol

It’s morning and the sun is rising slowly, at its own pace.
But that annoying myna is back in the balcony, cheerfully calling out to God-knows-who.

I wake up with this insane need to see you. The feeling, similar to my body’s aching need for caffeine. It’s quiet at home, the cool morning summer breeze sneaks in through the opening underneath the door and I rush for cover.

I want to tell you the things that I feel about you, but I chicken out like always. So I’m whispering it into this abyss. Into this space where words are either lost forever or remain etched for eternity.

Life, currently, seems more smeared with fingerprints than my spectacles. But you seem to know just how to make things clear and better, I dare say.

It’s strange to know that someone looks at all this madness and is crazy enough to say, “Well it looks like a lot of work. But do I want to go on this journey that might or might (definitely will) not plunge me into greater depths of craziness? Well, yes I do.”

Sometimes I wonder if all of this is a dream, what if this is my brain playing a ruthless prank on me….
And then, I suddenly realise this is real because,
That annoying myna is back in the balcony.

New Girl goes to Muscat

giphy

giphy

I really believed that I would never be the new girl again. Not in an office or in anyone’s life. Yes I had decided to remain single and jobless for the rest of my life, but life, apparently, had other plans.
While I spent the last nine months whiling away my life, I barely had any worries. Well, other than that one totally-justifiable fear of a dumbbell falling and crushing me instantly. Yes, tragic indeed. So as I went through life, travelling, eating and upping my stalking skills, little did I know that  my days of joblessness were sadly numbered.
Before I knew it, 28 years of my life were neatly folded, packed and stuffed in three suitcases and one bag. All threatening to burst out, thankfully not doing so. Some tears, a failed attempt at running back home and three hours later I was in a new city, in a new country.
Far, far away from home.
It’s just been a week since I moved here and I’ve realised that life has been crazy, but also exceptionally kind to me in so many ways. But on a few quiet evenings, when the sun is getting ready to set, I think of home. I miss every small annoying detail and I wonder, if three suitcases and one bag are all that I have to show for 28 years of existing. But then I remember that I did leave a dozen other clothes at home, so there obviously is more.
On other days I’m busy practising how to behave like an adult, how to socialise with people and smile, even though I’m panicking six ways to Sunday (or Friday, because #Muscat).
Through all of these ups and downs, I realised that I’m capable of so much more and that I can be anything I want to…
But for now (and for the unforeseeable future)
I am the New Girl.

The sense of an ending.

livingstilltumblr.com

I knew it was long overdue. 
But please give me the benefit of doubt, I was, to simply put it… scared. 

So I re-read the chapter. Feeling every word, letting each emotion cut through me. This time, allowing flowers to bloom in deserts and letting rivers (that shouldn’t have been there in the first place) go dry. 
And then, once again, I arrived at the last word and the last punctuation mark of the chapter. 

I had two choices:
1) To re-read all of it again.
2) To move on to the next chapter.

I sat there, unable to fight the tears, running my fingers through the now faded words and memories. In that moment, I met the love that got lost somewhere and all those emotions that were hidden under every full-stop.

But, it was time.
And so,
I turned the page.

What’s in a name?


I always made up new names for you. When you’d shrug and roll your eyes in annoyance (and I’d like to think you were faking it), I’d ask you, “really, what’s in a name? You, by any other name would still be as adorable”. You’d roll your eyes again.

Now, when I spot your name on hoardings, in magazines or as the name of the most absurd character on television, it floods my heart with sadness.

Your name. I say it out aloud sometimes, just to remember how it felt.
Your name. A seemingly ordinary one, something I wouldn’t have ever taken notice of before. 
But now, every time someone says it out aloud I turn to look for you. Hoping to find your familiar eyes that once made me smile endlessly.

What’s in a name, you ask?
Everything and then suddenly,
Nothing at all.