Splurge & Emotions ~ This week

By

SALT ~ This week ~ Splurge


I started working when I was 20. In those days salaries were not very handsome as I am talking about a time almost a decade back when the economy was still just starting to look up. My first salary was Rs. 4500/- . 

I had decided to pursue my masters along with a job to cover up some expenses any monthly EMI towards fees was Rs. 3400/- leaving Rs. 1100/- for me. In that Rs. 1100/- I had to run the entire month along with my food and accommodation expenses. No doubt that meant there were days when I used to walk long distances to save auto fare and skip food just to keep the money going till it was time for next salary.

Today when I look back and then look around I feel immensely proud. Everything that surrounds me today is a result of my hard work. I can say that I have slogged all the way to reach here and finally now my hard work has paid off. Today I splurge on myself. No, I am not the type who spends on brands and stuff. But I do splurge on my comfort- be it taxis, rickshaws and of course food. 

What baffles me is that there was no one when I was struggling but today when I have a good decent income, a respectable position and of course some amount of savings people have changed around me. And now – it’s me who has become bad for I am tagged a spendthrift!

Initially all this used to upset me a lot, but gradually realized that this is like a wave. It will keep coming and going depending on your success, name, fame and wealth. I learnt that people no matter whatever you do will have something to say about it. If you are a failure they will want to remind you of that and if you are successful they will want to find faults in your journey till there somehow just to see you fall from that height.
Source: Google Images


Lesson Learnt :Till the time you are doing what you are supposed to you are not good. But the moment you stop doing that you automatically become bad.
*-*-*-* 
PEPPER ~ This week ~ Emotions


I am an emotional person. I am not saying it because someone has told me that. I am saying it because it’s the truth. I am one and that too in extremes.

I have not only cried for movies or stories, I have also cried for complete strangers just seeing them in pain. I have been told it is a sign of weakness but I feel it’s the sign of strength. It requires strength to say it hurts. It needs guts to say I am broken from inside, shattered and it is painful at this moment. 

Because this strength is what eventually takes you to come out of all that and emerge as a stronger person. A person who constantly pretends as if it is all ok is actually the one who is not able to accept that there is a part in all of us that hurts. I believe breaking down and accepting your weakness even if it is for a moment requires more strength.

Source: Google Images


Lesson Learnt: It is okay to sometimes cry and say I am not okay!

Popular posts from this blog

Diary of a Lost Wanderer - Lost & Found

By
Image
Dear Diary, I fell in love with Mumbai when I first visited it in 1995. Bombay, as it was then known, fascinated me since then.  If you ask me what made me fall in love with this city, I perhaps cannot explain. It wasn't that I was seeing the sea for the first time. It wasn't even the biggest city I had been to till then. Still, there was something so magical about this place. The trip was a short one lasting less than a week but this city now had my heart. Years later, I arrived here all alone on my first solo trip in 2005 and fell in love all over again. I got my first job and was required to come to Mumbai frequently. The local trains, the chaos on the roads, the crowds, the humdrum, the salty smell in the air, the stale air- everything about this city was intoxicating for me. 
Keep reading »

Essay: How to mourn the loss of love?

By
Image
Image Source: Unsplash.com I remember the first time I mourned the loss of love was when I was eleven.  For me, dance was love at that time. I had discovered a strange joy as I glided in and out of those movements. Every time I swirled; I could feel my heart soar. Any beat that strained to reach my ears, tempted me to move my body to its tune. I just knew I was born to dance and that is the only thing I wanted to do, all my life.  I had my reasons to believe so and a very simple one at that. It made me happy. That was a reason enough. However, my father thought otherwise. Girls from good families, do not dance. That line was enough to break all those rosy dreams of dancing on a stage. The day my brother was sent to the same dance class which was not good for me, was the day I experienced heartbreak for the first time.  That is the day I mourned the loss of my first love- Dance. 
Keep reading »

Metro Diaries: The Art of Making Love

By
Image
Image Source: Unpexels (Cottonbro) “Do you know why is it called making love?” He whispered, pulling the comforter closer.  I don’t remember for how long we had been in that room, on that bed. Lying aimlessly, just feeling each other in silence. I managed to just whimper to denote my curiosity.   “Because that is the moment we create love. We are the closest we could ever be to love, in its purest form. It is sheer magic as we are naked, in every form. Mentally, physically and emotionally before that one person, we love. We know they can hurt us, as much as they want to, in the way they want to. But love gives us that power to trust them, that they won’t.”   “And here I was thinking it is a need. Something you want at that moment and you get it!” 
Keep reading »