If

dawn-nature-sunset-people-large

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build’em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

– Rudyard Kipling

How I Started Building the Life I Wanted

divingInhale. Hold. Exhale.

Yes, we all want to live a certain kind of life. We all have some dreams and hopes that we want to accomplish. But honestly, how many of us actually end up traveling the world, or buying that house, or moving to that country, or finally quitting that job and pursuing your passion. Not many, huh? There are too many responsibilities and obligations. Sometimes we are too comfortable in the dysfunctional patterns that we have created and are so used to. So how do we stop cribbing and start doing?

There are so many motivational posts and blogs to read. I have read them too. And yes, they do motivate you for the 10 seconds that you take to read them. I have also saved innumerable screenshots on my phone from Pinterest and Instagram (no kidding!). But see no one tells you how to get out of the cobweb of thoughts and actually clean the mess.

I am a creative myself who intends to visit at least one new country every year, sketch those illustrations I love doing, do more impact oriented development work that was a part of my job and make enough money while doing all of this to lead a comfortable life. To add to it, I don’t come from some super wealthy family, idea of success in my family is only hard work and commitment, my parents are sort of dependent on me and I also have old grandparents and a younger sister to look after.

These endless responsibilities always overwhelmed me and I have cribbed about them at least 70% of my life until now. The saving grace was my super cool and understanding grand father who retired as an Air Commodore with the Indian Air Force and at the senior age of 60 decided to start a business so that he could provide for the family. He always questioned the status quo, pushed boundaries, and showered us with immense love. That’s how he brought me up.

He taught me-

” Do what you have to do. Don’t give up. Don’t make excuses.”

And he didn’t have to say a word. His actions were enough. Some man, I tell you! He sold his business when he was 80 as there was no one to take it forward. I was still in school back then. But here on, a lot changed. As a family we became more mindful of our savings and expenditures. Growing up, seeing different shades of life teaches you things no school can ever teach you. But no matter how much I complain, I was always protected and cared for no matter how independent my family pushed me to be. I was always under the wing of my grandfather.

Last year, he had a brain stroke that shook my very existence. I was here, in this world, because of him. I was this person, whoever I was because of him. He was the tree trunk my whole family branched out off. Seeing him in that painful state stirred emotions I was not ready to confront. I was weak and scared for him, for my family, for our future but then I had to be strong, again, for him, for the family, for my family’s future. My family needed to know that they are safe. I won’t let anything happen to anyone. I am there. But inside, I was feeling things which can’t be explained in words. I was not prepared for this. I had no idea how to handle a household, all the finances, emotions and relationships, everything. I had no idea how one man held everything and everyone together, understanding everyone’s individual needs and desires.

Right when we were going through this turmoil, I got hit by jaundice and was hospitalized followed by 3 months of bed rest. So here is the scenario, grand dad is hospitalized, I am hospitalized, dad is perpetually unwell and needs attention, grand mom, mom and younger sis (who was here for a couple of weeks, thank God for that!) are super stressed and taking care of everyone and everything. Of course, help came from my relatives and cousins (my dad’s sister and her daughter were with us day in and day out, helping and supporting the family).

But let’s get to the point.

In a few weeks, my grand dad and I both started recovering. My grand mom and mom gave us so much love and care that not only  improved our health, it brought us closer and made all of us more patient and understanding towards each other. Those 3 months of bed rest and confrontation with some deepest fears, gave me so much time for introspection and gaining perspective. At this point of time,

  • I had left my job.
  • I was heart broken and getting out of a serious long-term relationship.
  • I had faced the worst fear of losing my grand dad.
  • I was hospitalized and probably my weakest health-wise.
  • I was 24 and family needed me emotionally and financially.

This was probably my lowest low. And I had only 2 options. Continue with the cribbing, blaming and cursing everyone and yourself.

Or CHANGE. EVOLVE. BREAK THE PATTERNS. TAKE CONTROL.

And that’s what I decided to do. Evolve. Well, you see, even that’s a problem. I didn’t know what to do and where to start. I didn’t even know how to think about this. That’s where being a design researcher helped. I took this as a design challenge.

Statement of Purpose: Design the life that you want

I have been working on this for a while and I feel a lot of people go through this crisis at some point or another. I am going to document my hit and trial methods and learnings, step-by-step for anyone who might need it. I am experimenting and maybe you’ll gain something from my experiments.

Love & Light.

~S

On Love

“Between what is said and not meant, and what is meant and not said, most of love is lost.” ~ Khalil Gibran

Then said Almitra, ‘Speak to us of Love.’
And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them.
And with a great voice he said:
When love beckons to you follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast.
All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.
But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor,
Into the season-less world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.
When you love you should not say, ‘God is in my heart,’ but rather, I am in the heart of God.’
And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

Still I Rise

nature-sunset-person-woman

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

– Maya Angelou

What if…

I stay, pretending I am not crumbling inside? That with each passing day I decide to start loving myself as much as I love you?
I begin listening to my barely audible, quivering inner voice.

What if…

I stay, using the pain as a secret ingredient, creating a concoction, sustaining both of our souls.
While lost in my crafts, I discover a hidden map in the landscape of the photography or a cryptic message between the lines of my erratic writings. The mystery of finding us again is solved.

What if…

I share a soliloquy with friends, portraying our struggles in the eloquence of a fleeting summer rainstorm.
We lean into each other as angry thunder erupts from our souls, holding a space to be heard and loved.

What if…

I know all of this is a maze of lies. Intricately designed twists, blind alleys and turns. I am unable to find the path leading to the outside.

So I stay.

Or rather, some form of me stays. A foreign being with a sealed door to her heart, the light within extinguished. A stranger to both of us.
Somehow you know the way out. Or maybe, the truth is, you never walked on a path with me. You remained on the outside.

So you leave.

I am stuck… with me, this foreign being, this stranger. And a growing collection of, “What if?”
I am running to the past, trying to recapture time. In the darkness, I stumble. Falling to my knees.
I am too tired to stand. Too tired to cry. Too tired to fight.
In the darkness, a soothing sound washes over me. My inner voice gently shares…

What if…

You let go of the questions from the past, the illusion of going back in time to change the outcome.
You quit running, trying to block the pain. Embrace it. Accept it as part of your journey.

What if…

You allow yourself to drop into this moment. Stand in your own truth, even if it feels messy and ugly. Drop the judgement, the fear. Open the door to your heart, inviting in the unknown.
You realize in this moment, in every moment, you are enough. Release the thoughts of inferiority hindering you from moving forward with your life purpose.

What if…

Pain is replaced with the love of forgiveness.

Forgiveness for him.
Forgiveness for me.

What if…

– Jennifer Wang 

Original post by Jennifer Wang. Check it out here.

At Twenty Two

She was so smart
She seemed so fine
She knew it all
And she knew it right

She was climbing the ladder
Oh! So fast
She was flying high
She wanted to reach the sky

Then what went wrong
What burnt her out
She ran too fast
She didn’t slow down

She gave it all
Seemed she had it all
But no one knew
What all she blew

The sparkling cover
She showed was a lie
Behind that smile
Was a girl who cried

They wanted it all
So she couldn’t fall
She had to give
For them to live

For her needs
She cared least
It was them
She wanted to please

But no matter what
They never got
Her sacrifice
Could never suffice.

It faded her sparkle
It burt her out
The game was over
Finally, no doubt!

~S

The Silent Cry

Lying next to you
Knowing it’s a delusion
It feels so right
Wishing this was mine    

But it’s a game of destiny
And yours is not with mine
No matter the want
You’re not mine to flaunt

Lying next to you 
In your warm embrace          
What could be more sad
Than knowing that end is all I have
        
This dream will remain a dream
This love will remain unknown
We were never wrong     
Our time was just not strong
        
This wish will remain unanswered
An innocent scream, unheard
A teardrop from the eye
Tonight, my pillow will hear the silent cry!

~S

To the Land of the Devil

What are you doing here, you little girl?
Standing here alone, in this mean world

Alone you stand, alone you cry
Alone you write about your plight
No one to help to set you free
Now your world is all eerie

Your wings are cut, your legs are tied
Nor you can run, neither can you fly
Your world is black, no hint of blue
Your favorite color, but of no use

Your world is scarred with your scary past
And destined dark future approaching fast
You have nothing to dream and nothing to hope
The life you wanted has rolled down the slope

You have no one to love, no one to care
None are concerned about you crying here

Nothing to achieve or be someone in time
You have chosen the path
Which will remain gloomy till you die
You have no reason, no need, no hope
You have no desire to live anymore
Nothing to remember which may make you high
Nothing to look forward in life

I think now the time has come
You can come with me to another world
Leave the pain and your past behind
Now I will take you somewhere you won’t mind
Set them free and let them go
Don’t keep holding onto them, no more

Come with me, hold my hand
That world is yours and sparkles like sand

Follow me up and let me tell
Little girl, people named that place hell
But let me tell you loud and clear
Any day its better than your life here

So come with me as this is what you want
There you can be mean, rude or whatever you want
There is no ‘no’ or anyone to stop
Don’t dream and just get what you want
You can rule your world and own your life
Which isn’t possible if you stay here alive!

~S

One Art

The art of losing isn’t hard to master; 
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! My last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

–Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster. 

– Elizabeth Bishop

Locked Away

Locked_Away

While I was burning in the fire I started
He entered my life and quietly guarded
He healed my wounds with the scars left over
He won my heart while playing poker
He made me laugh, made me smile
He was the reason for the sparkle in my eye.

Now and then we had our ups and downs
Old scars clouded my vision with doubts
Time and again he proved me wrong
Gave me love without a second thought.
He took my sorrows far-far away
And promised me he was there to stay.

In his warm embrace I felt at home
My heart melted and was no more a stone.
He gained my trust and made me believe
I was his life and he would never leave.
He made me stand again, so tall
And promised he’ll never let me fall.

But who knew all this was a game
Life is such; there is no one to blame.
For once when I had started to see the future so clear
I faced the fire again as my world was unreal.
The house that I was building was built on sand
A gust of wind blew it to a far away land.

So once again, I lay here, awake
Cant sleep, can’t eat, this time all’s at stake.
Love is a gamble and I was meant to lose
It was fire and I stood too close.
So, my heart is broken as it was so brittle
For all the charges, you were not acquittal

For a while, I was living a lie
It made me happy but now its time to say goodbye
Hence I promise, to lock away
The broken pieces, for no one to play
No promises, no trust as it never lasts
It’s all buried now, it was just past.

~S