Silence is golden... Scratch that! It is way more precious than that!

'I am in silence'. Have you ever tried this thing? For a certain amount of time, you deprive yourself of a verbal communication. Not a peep outta your pie hole, mate! The way we are conditioned, with all the constant social interaction and need to be heard or involved in a conversation of some form, this is an alien concept. Though, throughout our lives some people have very righteously at some point asked us to shut up. It's very Eat, Pray, Love (Eck! But a part of me is a sucker for that kinda stuff). Also, my shrink thinks I can do better with this rather constructive challenge. (Yes, I have a shrink. I am Charlie Harper, baby! Minus the addictions, though. But plus the issues and insanity plea.)

I have taken a fortnight long vow of silence and have gone through with 2 days of it. Feeling good, so far. My spirits are drunk high on the excitement of the challenge. And the hilarity ensuing as a result. I'm being mocked & teased, and there are those that are trying to get me to forfeit or to fail. But the most amusing of the lot are those that are outraged by my decision. Look at the following shining example of utter absurdity (is that even a word?).

On Whatsapp...
Friend: I'll call you in 5.
     Me: Don't.
            It is of no point.
            I can't speak.
Friend: Why not?
     Me: I'm in silence.
Friend You won't make it.
     Me: That's cool.
10 minutes later, my phone rings. I answer.
     Me: Hmm hmmm! (Hey-looooo!)
Friend: Haha! Unbelievable!
Carry on with the hmming for another minute and a half.
Friend: Okay. You can't do this to me. I called up because I wanted             to speak with you.
     Me: Hmm hmm. (I know!)
Friend: Seriously? If you keep this up, I am never speaking with             you ever again.
     Me: Hmm mm? (Oh-kay?)
Friend: So, you're gonna stay this way, huh? Well, if you can be                   stubborn, then so can I.
     Me: -silent- (Facepalm!)
Friend: I'm gonna cut the call now. Have fun.
     Me: Hmm. (Night!)
Cut the call.

I was left absolutely puzzled. I wondered all night about how selfish people have been about how I live my life, all my life. All the 'talk to me, damn it', the 'why are you doing this to me' & the '10 minutes, just me, please' has got me wondering if people ever cared about any of my actions for my sake or was I constantly satisfying some hidden agenda of theirs every single time.

Hello, world? Uh... hi! Here's the thing... you see, the next time I tell you that I am doing something for myself, try not to demotivate my spirit or derail my will, because honestly, we could do with lesser negativity. MUCH LESSER. I'd like none, but let's settle with lesser for now. Just like you keep telling me that I need to stop with all things that are me, please remember, not everything is about you. Stop making everything about you. My life sure as funk isn't about YOU!

I like the people laughing at me or making this task tougher to accomplish. Thank you! You are entertained, you entertain me, you make me more determined at wanting to get this done and your enthusiasm about my idiosyncrasies is endearing as hell. The others... well, just keep your snotty nose out of my blissful choo-choo train. Stay on the dingy platforms. I do not want your mucky booger all over my bright sunny ways, nor do I wanna keep shoving my pretty little umbrella in your icky face.

I hear our Chief Kitchen Stewarding in-charge blasting away (his capillaries, maybe some major blood vessels, definitely his gall bladder) at one of the lady stewards and the librarian pleads to me, "Why don't you give him that badge? Or make him another!" And I can't help but giggle at the mirth his petty reason for stressing out is causing. Ah! Humanity! Petty, frivolous, and rib splitting, funny bone cracking hilarious.

I'm sitting here, in my happy silent zone, listening to the humdrum and din and whines and screams of all the youth around me. In a LIBRARY! For Socrates's sake! I mean, come on! You could shut up in here, at least, I think? But they've all got the bug... The YYF (yappity-yap-flu), strain nonsensical (I love this word). I have been suspended from classes, both practical and theory, and my punishment is the opportunity to learn as much as I can or wish to. I am so regretful! (Note sarcasm.)

Wish I had that bottle of Anejo and a salt rimmed shooter to go with this lime I just scored.
-GaurikaVA =)

There's a first time for everything...

The beginnings are always the most difficult for me... You see, at this very moment, you are waiting to be impressed. You want a reason to spend your next few minutes on this page. While I am desperately trying to think of something (ANYthing!) that will keep you interested. And so, I will write a particularly "cool" and nonsensical statement in hopes of keeping you latched to your screen...

But, alas! I'll fail.

It's not just with writing, though. Beginnings in general are very difficult for me. Every beginning is a moment of impact that effects a series of events that are destined to occur at a later stage of my existence. The "first impression" takes 7 seconds and that is pretty much what the defining moment is made of. So, in case you haven't realised the point I'm getting at, it's basically a lot of pressure to take. That fine line between a little too much or a little too less is almost impossible to stick to. Because there is always so much more to say, a lot more to share. But one can't just give it all away! You have to start slow and smooth, build up momentum, attain crescendo, and then, bam! Conclude.

And cool statements don't make it work because one needs something more. One needs to be able to connect and relate. And that is exactly why I have hesitated a million times before, every time somebody asked me to publish a piece of work. My style of writing is very personal. It's pretty much the notion of wearing my heart on my sleeve when it comes to writing. And the gut wrenching feeling whenever somebody fails to "feel" the piece is heart breaking.

But I can't please everyone! I know I rarely ever please anybody. And yet, though I find content in that fact as a person, as an artist? Why should I feel this overpowering need to do right by somebody else? If I believe that my life ought to be lived my way, then my writing ought to reflect my belief, shouldn't it?

I have spent weeks trying to get this one little piece done. A special somebody inspired me to kick start this little activity here in order to grease my rusty writing. And oh! Inspired I was! But I just couldn't write. I dint know how to approach it. I dint know how to approach you. I tried being formal, sounded like a pile of LSD baloney. I tried the slang thing and ended up getting depressed at the realisation of how outdated my knowledge of it was. Then my sister told me that it was a sign of good education so, I got over it. but it was back to square one. Hours of staring at the screen, blank.

But the special somebody (I know that you know who you are, and thanks a tonne, my beloved) would just not give up on me. She asked me, "For all the years I have known you, since when do you need a topic to write? Why don't you write about yourself? You are fun, so is your life. Write about it!" I figured, "What the heck! I am not putting up anything, anyway. Something is always better than nothing..." So here it goes.

A few kebabs, some cheesecake, half a muskmelon and a cup of green tea later, I (finally!) sit finalising this piece. Yes! I eat like a glutton. I am one. And I am happy.

I wrote a whole paragraph about my weekend and then delete it. Doesn't feel right, to get too intimate at the very first go. All in good time. If you have made it till here, cheers, mate. Thanks a tonne for reading it all. But it is not all I had to say. I shall be back soon with something less draggy and more springy. Something more insightful and less vague.

Keep those shot glasses ever ready... I'm sure salt and lime aren't that tough to lay your hands on.
-GaurikaVA =)