Breaking Bad Cliches

People love throwing one liners at us. Yes, I am looking at you my writers’ brethren.  You would be hearing some gems like “Be your best every day.” But why don’t these things come with a goddamn manual? (Pardon me. I have been binge watching Breaking Bad)

They tell me that I am losing the distinction between fiction and real. I am sourcing out pain just for the sake of writing, and that I can write about happy incidents also. (Leo Tolstoy just shook in his grave)

So if I get a job that I love ( Universe, why don’t you make some of my hypothetical situations come true?) should I be writing something like “My crushed heart came alive. It’s as if someone just picked up my pieces and with the Elder wand, put it all together”? (#JustPotterheadThings) I think I would need a diabetes test if I write sappy and sugary every day.

Then there are these other gems that i come across. I am told that I should let go and get a little wild. Ya, I saw what happens when Walter White lets go and breaks bad. No thanks, I am good with this.

Then there are these other set of clowns who will tell me, “Move on. No point looking back. He has got his special one.”

Firstly, is he out of his mind to choose a mere mortal over a writer? Okay that was too much. But still, you are getting my point right?

And Facebook is a pal to these idiots. After a long day when you open your timeline, what you see is, “Wifey’s pasta was super tasty. #YummyForMyTummy.” What the fuck did I just read? (Send an instruction to your heart. PLEASE FALL FOR BETTER GUYS IN THE FUTURE). Come on, you don’t want to spend your words on such douchebags.

And then comes the classic, “Find the answer within you.” How does one even do that? A friend told me that I should sit with a paper without any distraction and just write what I want to do or love. I just drew some random doodles and wrote lines here and there. The universe’s system of luck distribution is really messed up.

And then the best part is when the universe throws you another curveball. It places you in House Introvert. When you go out with folks, they tell you to talk. But my point is what? Your power to start a conversation is low, then how can you have a stimulating conversation with your aunt’s husband’s sister’s uncle’s brother’s sister’s son.

Oh! And be warned. In such situations, everyone turns into a CCTV camera. All eyes on you. If you put a strand of hair behind your ears, you are flirting ISW (Indian Standard Way). Be aware, writer girls.

And what is also weird is that I intended this piece to be a how-to on being your best. (Yeah yeah one blind man guiding the other). But I spoke of everything around the point than the point itself. #JustWriterThings

P.S: Suck it in, Universe. You did not win. I wrote, bitch!

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Running with Questions

Let me just say it out loud to myself.

I have no idea where I am headed or what I am meant to do.

I sketch. Write. That is all what I know.

Sometimes, it just helps to say it. You keep repeating it to yourself in your mind. And your mind just goes on playing a film of all the bad luck your cluelessness is bringing to you. And all you can do is drown with this thought haunting you day in and day out.

But when you write it or say it with all the firmness, it might just feel as if you are ready to tackle this storm.

To tell you a little about me, I suffer from anxiety. Panic attacks for me sometimes become something like a tussle between life and death. It is that real for me. And I lost my father six years ago when I was nineteen years old.

Since that day, I did everything that came my way. I did not sit and plan out or charted out a career path. It was all about finding peace and if that also meant, getting a job in his office, I was quite alright with that too. In fact at that point of time, that goal was driving me. It helped me not lose my sanity. But I had not realised that I was just digging a hole for myself.

At that point the decision to escape in multiple internships than deal with the trauma of losing him suddenly seemed like an easy choice to make.

And then my years just passed with multiple internships to my credit, juggling it all with my studies etc. At 22 or 23, big words like ‘career’ don’t make a hasty appearance.

This word will take its time to come till your doorsteps. It brings with itself a batallion of questions. These are weapons of different intensities meant to poke you at all the right places. The injuries might make you want to sit down and not get up or maybe rise after a long period of sitting down. In my case, maybe it is the second scenario.

The thing is my anxiety also started sucking my power to think. It created a comfort zone for me, which was made of tears, fright, panic attacks etc…It actually seemed like a soft cushion when doubt struck. And now when my counsellor asks me to think about my life ahead or what I want to do, I can only envision a blank space. Maybe because all this while I have gone with the flow. Maybe I have never known what it is to sit and have that talk with your parent.

When I thought of writing this piece, I had imagined that I will be rummaging through all the doubts within me and find an answer beneath that pile. But yet again, I wrote the question while the answer is still somewhere waiting to be found; hoping that I don’t fall in the trap of running with questions than embracing answers.