tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-124523522024-03-07T05:57:24.433-08:00The Soothsayer DiariesI foresee the forsaken.The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.comBlogger64125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-14703285365074632282020-09-09T21:54:00.006-07:002020-09-09T22:09:41.732-07:00Of love, loss and everything in between <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: georgia;">Life is such a cyclical journey of love, loss and everything in between.</span></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: georgia;">Sometimes I feel a sense of <span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.87)">Déjà vu, as if the way life is playing out right now has happened to me before? </span></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.87)" style="background-color: black; color: white;"><br /></span></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.87)" style="background-color: black; color: white;">And it is such a disconcerting feeling. I start to believe the philosophy of the multiverse, or the hindu belief of many lives. Maybe it is my Karma or maybe I havent yet learnt all that I need to, when it comes to this life. </span></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.87)" style="background-color: black; color: white;"><br /></span></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.87)" style="background-color: black; color: white;">Whatever it is, I guess my trials are not over yet. Maybe I still have a lot of life lessons to experience yet.</span></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUOvulluC3P082Yt0458GwtfiVwYqXdoqw-P2RqNMnmxzoadAv7IKRVE4aicnoeBLl6x1cVqi_NyxH4j26aPB_W22DB6yYyaIzfyI0GjVzb6-2TLvZdpGjXHtauGLmQEXmoaPI/s1280/maxresdefault.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUOvulluC3P082Yt0458GwtfiVwYqXdoqw-P2RqNMnmxzoadAv7IKRVE4aicnoeBLl6x1cVqi_NyxH4j26aPB_W22DB6yYyaIzfyI0GjVzb6-2TLvZdpGjXHtauGLmQEXmoaPI/s320/maxresdefault.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.87)" style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.87)" style="background-color: black; color: white;">Which is to say, the journey continues.</span></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.87)" style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.87)" style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-7473591626854272212019-03-21T11:43:00.001-07:002019-03-21T11:44:26.763-07:00Chasing illusions <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Have you ever tried to catch sand in your fist? Held on tightly, only to have it slowly run out from your palm? The harder you hold on, the faster it runs out. The more you try, the harder it fights to be free. One can draw a parallel between sand and relationships as well. I’ve learnt this the hard way. The more you show your vulnerability to people, the more they take advantage of you. Therefore the real, fragile you must remain well protected until you can trust the person. I hope against hope that I reach that day sometime. When I can dare to showcase myself at my most vulnerable without the fear of being taken advantage of, or worse, being rejected completely. It is a risk I am willing to take. Always.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1DxJuQqXKk4EX6ACbQDZ1_3t9QcCfMggwSCjLA3rTIv5fSNPGONzsgD6FOI4U3wcszhwiwSXzYLAYzSBnkLRYf8BZn9EaEys5bbNTZJXaYBRBw7FewJL-tLrD3IamYK2-WMCl/s1600/D9090B2A-55FC-4F6D-8791-63E6254DF33C.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="949" data-original-width="642" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1DxJuQqXKk4EX6ACbQDZ1_3t9QcCfMggwSCjLA3rTIv5fSNPGONzsgD6FOI4U3wcszhwiwSXzYLAYzSBnkLRYf8BZn9EaEys5bbNTZJXaYBRBw7FewJL-tLrD3IamYK2-WMCl/s320/D9090B2A-55FC-4F6D-8791-63E6254DF33C.jpeg" width="216" /></a></div>
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The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-65945364912450628802018-08-16T08:22:00.001-07:002018-08-16T08:22:43.440-07:00Self reflection is a path that is fraught with distractions<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I am not the meditating type. My earliest memories of meditation involve my second standard PT teacher Mrs. Manacha who taught us yoga in our bloomers and asked us to open the ‘third eye in our minds’. But try as I did, all I ever saw in my mind was darkness. I remember giving up in frustration and feeling very unenlightened indeed. Since then, I have had a very banal view of meditation and becoming one with the ‘chakras’. Over the years, silence and not doing anything has never really been my thing. Therefore it surprises me that the last 2 months have all been spent in quiet reflection. I have realized that my form of meditation is best described as time I spend trying to solve a conundrum in my mind. Whether it’s a business problem, or a relationship niggle, thinking about it in a tranquil manner, free from distractions is something I enjoy quite a bit. The funny part? I think I do this even in my sleep sometimes.</div>
The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-36915068609034650172017-03-18T11:53:00.001-07:002017-03-18T11:53:56.633-07:00The labels we give ourselves<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQkRXDNui5BUglIGV_90bB0Vlgh1aeYmVu_FxkHe97OtH3XkQkxbcwPc7M5kgWu08OC8rhZTbBnU8niYWmJjJpbiK2pWr73dGZRo_3bjbKYhrMNAky9v8Z609HhHyw-jHBll1o/s1600/2dcc0ab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQkRXDNui5BUglIGV_90bB0Vlgh1aeYmVu_FxkHe97OtH3XkQkxbcwPc7M5kgWu08OC8rhZTbBnU8niYWmJjJpbiK2pWr73dGZRo_3bjbKYhrMNAky9v8Z609HhHyw-jHBll1o/s1600/2dcc0ab.jpg" /></a>It is often said that we are our own harshest critics. And I know that this saying resonates with me a 100%. Growing up, I heard a lot of very negative words that were directed towards me. And these words had an impact. I was told I was selfish, arrogant, stubborn, stupid, self-centered and disgusting. I was body shamed with labels such as fat, pudgy, porky, balloon, ugly. School was the worst since girls are never very kind to one another, especially as teenagers. Everywhere I went, I heard more labels, until I started to see myself as others saw me - started to hate myself, my personality, my sense of identity and of course, my body. Labels have the power to really stick. They tend to corrode the positive sense of esteem and replace it with a darkness that is very hard to shake off. It has taken me almost all my life to do so. </div>
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My labels revolved around the notion that I thought to great of myself, and so needed to be put in my place, or brought a few notches down. Maybe the people who directed these words at me thought that it would do me good. Maybe it was their way of defending their own self esteems and egos. Either way, it led to the creation of a mistrust, and a low self esteem that was masked by an outgoing personality. </div>
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Words that are physically demeaning are even worse, because they can really be damaging to your confidence, and self image. I have spoken about my body image issues before, and it has taken the better part of my life to accept myself.</div>
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I am sure you have been subject to this labeling as well. And I would love to hear what you did to reject them and be happy in who you are, not what others think you are.</div>
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The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-77359849140345826662017-03-15T11:51:00.003-07:002017-03-15T11:52:42.874-07:00From Maximum City to Maximum Silence<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivowL3SyG-M08eHqhyphenhyphenMUsa0X0JkuKrUp-qOIr_qjHNGiWY0qHo_JV8Y7sxeNmobivKo0E8VO_T0RPhNWWZToS7ufP5SJ5cS3wiqKwjGA5ZqqjtoE4eEGAV2eMBjXzfR08Xs587/s1600/Annoying-noise-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivowL3SyG-M08eHqhyphenhyphenMUsa0X0JkuKrUp-qOIr_qjHNGiWY0qHo_JV8Y7sxeNmobivKo0E8VO_T0RPhNWWZToS7ufP5SJ5cS3wiqKwjGA5ZqqjtoE4eEGAV2eMBjXzfR08Xs587/s320/Annoying-noise-001.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Its been 3 years since I left Mumbai to live in Canada, and the thing that is still the most disconcerting to me, is the silence. Especially in the winter months. India is chaotic and noisy. There is a hustle and a bustle to daily life in Mumbai, the sounds of the milkman, the newspaper man, the knife sharpener, the kabadiwalah, the various other vendors who peddle their wares at you. Then there is the noise of the children, playing around you, or the myriad festivals and the loud speakers that invariably come with them. Add to this the daily ministrations of the various animals that are part of your day - street dogs, cats, birds chirping, crows cawing. Add in a layer of traffic and cars honking and you have one heady albeit noisy cocktail of sound. Deafening in its intensity, but still adding to the everyday. Staying in North America couldn't be more different. The silence speaks volumes. On most days, you may not hear the sound of another human being, animal, locomotive or electronic equipment. This silence gets magnified a thousand times over in the winter months, when the weather is terrible, and you don't see too many people around. </div>
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I remember not being able to sleep when I first moved to Canada. And I realized that this was because the silence was so unnerving to me. It can also be soothing. It gives you the feeling of being wrapped in a cocoon that reassures you in its constant parity. However, I do think I miss the vibrancy of India and its millions of sounds.A very real case of the grass always being greener on the other side, no doubt?</div>
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The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-82148956187026920402016-06-19T12:16:00.001-07:002016-06-19T12:16:01.952-07:00Old lady in the mirror<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfHEknevfnIPQ7WJyIIpdS_SczVfE4d_-sGKsrbzJ1DTCinaJ9l82hqCL_cSHVyB117CnOVPq1wtjOAK9sLJAlyUT-_EHCUFMNH0w7hwKKsJH4rMZSFg52A2R5cEtXVk19DtEd/s1600/old+woman+mirror.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfHEknevfnIPQ7WJyIIpdS_SczVfE4d_-sGKsrbzJ1DTCinaJ9l82hqCL_cSHVyB117CnOVPq1wtjOAK9sLJAlyUT-_EHCUFMNH0w7hwKKsJH4rMZSFg52A2R5cEtXVk19DtEd/s320/old+woman+mirror.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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It is a balmy Sunday afternoon, and I feel an overwhelming need to write something. To talk to the universe in a monologue that showcases my deepest emotions and frustrations. You see, for the last 5 years, I have tried very unsuccessfully to find 'the one'. Tried to change myself, made some really crazy choices (moving half way around the world anyone?) and also worked on becoming fitter to fit into an ideal version of me. And yet, despite all of these attempts to conform to society's image of the perfect woman, I cant seem to find a man who is willing to share this life with me. Frustrating to say the least, but it makes me think that I am approaching this completely in the wrong manner. Instead of trying to change myself for this idea of what men are seeking, I need to just be content in being the person I am. I am never going to be the prettiest, the healthiest, the wittiest or the most intelligent woman out there. Nor am I going to be someone over whom men duel or fight to the death (hey a girl has to have some fantasies). But what I can be, is the best version of me. Someone who is living life in the best possible way that she knows. Someone who is flawed, dented, bruised but yet not broken. Someone who deserves someone equally flawed, dented and bruised. But guess what, I am not going to sit around waiting and feeling sad that it hasn't happened yet. My life is not defined by this one relationship. And if it is not meant to be, so be it. No use moping about another stupid and idiotic buffoon of a man who doesn't treat me the way I deserve.And if that means I live to be a 100 and a spinster, then what a crazy old lady with spicy stories I am going to be! Here's to the old lady who refused to bow down to society's rules and lived life one adventure at a time. Here is to the future me. </div>
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The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-20185314775402234842016-05-26T19:06:00.000-07:002016-05-26T19:06:06.788-07:00On the train again...moving away from you.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I write this post on a train journey from Toronto to Kingston and back. The gift of 2.5 hours of time is something that I don't usually get, so when I did get this opportunity, I thought, maybe I should get back to writing since its been a while. It sure has been an eventful couple of years. Ever since moving to Canada 2.5 years ago, I feel like I am like a leaf that's blowing in the wind. Going where the wind takes me. The experiences I gain along the way, the people I meet, and the challenges I overcome are all pieces in the grand scheme of things. Hopefully there is some meaning at the end of this journey. But one can never be certain. But, I just wanted to take a moment and look back at some of the things that Canada has taught me.</div>
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1.<strong> Relax. The weight of the world is not on your shoulders.</strong> Having grown up on a healthy dose of soap operas and Bollywood, I think it suffices to say that we Indians can be very dramatic. Everything seems to be a tragedy or a sob story, and every difficult time is viewed as a calamity. Living in Canada has taught me that you can be serious about your life, but that doesn't mean that you need to walk around like your problems weigh you down. </div>
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2. <strong>Appreciate the beauty around you, and the shortness of summer.</strong> Coming from India, I never understood why Canadians love their summer so much. 3 desolate winters later, I am one of those people who is as excited as the average Canadian when it comes to summer.</div>
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3. <strong>Be nice to people. It makes you a nicer person to be around, overall.</strong> Points 1 and 2 meant that I was this grumpy old soul who didn't like new people. I was never trusting and rarely polite. Canada changes that. You cant help but be affected by the positivity all around you. People are nice here. Genuinely nice. They don't have hidden agendas, and they are definitely not plotting to overthrow you in office, like you would think they did in India for sure. Mumbai and the corporate culture there seems like a battlefield in comparison. </div>
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4. <strong>Admit that you do not have all the answers, and they will eventually present themselves to you</strong>. Whether it is that excel sheet at work, or your life's problems, admitting that you do not have all the answers is a good way of making the universe work for you. I have realized that if you look for something long enough, things tend to work out in the end. The same goes with answers to a problem.</div>
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5. <strong>Be thankful for the chances you have been given. </strong>Overall, a sense of peace and contentment is a feeling unlike any other. Be thankful for the chances that you have been given, and stop fretting about the next big promotion, the next house, the next relationship.</div>
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I would addressed some more, but my time on the train seems to be at an end. Till the time that I have some more time to spare....</div>
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The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-33182622817908082092015-08-13T19:30:00.002-07:002015-08-13T19:30:29.327-07:00Words in the wind...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpXp_UOniOuArt8wgDU-yBY1yE11RlOX-Zq8I83XiGLFrnU84vCh5yJax85wX0dA3tF-8sY4qO_rhHeidNJKyVuFeChK1yNe3LcH3qaxHgrtxQfef2VtpUq4NlmkagxPziccn-/s1600/dandelionbg1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpXp_UOniOuArt8wgDU-yBY1yE11RlOX-Zq8I83XiGLFrnU84vCh5yJax85wX0dA3tF-8sY4qO_rhHeidNJKyVuFeChK1yNe3LcH3qaxHgrtxQfef2VtpUq4NlmkagxPziccn-/s320/dandelionbg1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Today has made me restless somehow. I felt the need to talk to someone and ponder over life's mysteries. Not that I have the time to. Not that I do not have a million tasks on my to-do list. Not that I won't get caught into inane discussions. And not that I won't regret staying up late at night because I was too restless to sleep. All of this notwithstanding, I really and truly crave the opportunity to sit and talk, really talk to someone. Just to hear myself think, to have someone as a soundboard, and to meld together a story from experiences that are different, and yet similar in a way. I miss the verbal sparring, the banter, the humour, and the power of an intelligent argument. The need to run and check facts, to reinforce what you already believed in, and to learn something new. My conversations these days have become all about the excel sheet numbers, and less about discovery. And it makes me feel sad. I wish I had people who would reach out to me and talk. So here are my words in the wind, a wish if you may...for conversation, and maybe some coffee while we try to unravel what it means to exist.</div>
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The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-60706418839467684932015-03-06T13:55:00.001-08:002015-03-06T13:55:09.578-08:00How are you really?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFyqvl4k_luEMbOtk0feAlDPXQy5KaTIeH65Y8kxNk5JYdPZc1v1icrGjrPtm1Z3Y0AXTg8i0SrK_IK3Kt31nDnd7gAznqTfW2k4GftpGZULjjYerBTJIyVMOR-tHslyY6bGbH/s1600/i__m_not_fine_by_sofiielii-d5b7l4k.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFyqvl4k_luEMbOtk0feAlDPXQy5KaTIeH65Y8kxNk5JYdPZc1v1icrGjrPtm1Z3Y0AXTg8i0SrK_IK3Kt31nDnd7gAznqTfW2k4GftpGZULjjYerBTJIyVMOR-tHslyY6bGbH/s1600/i__m_not_fine_by_sofiielii-d5b7l4k.png" height="240" width="320" /></a>The other day one of my closest friends messaged asking me "How I was?". An innocuous question in itself, but it trigged myriad emotions in me. I thought of the fact that I didn't have a job, had been looking for one for some time, and was nowhere near finding one. I thought of how I had left India a year ago, sure that I was making the best move of my life, how I had left a great job, because I wanted to make a mark in North America. I thought about the endless battle against weight and body image, and how I was finally getting sick of trying. I thought about not finding love. About despairing that there was anyone out there for me. I thought of how I did not know whether my tomorrow was going to be better than today, and how increasingly I felt that it was an impossibility. Having pondered all of these thoughts triggered by her simple greeting, I thought of replying by saying, I am: depressed, frustrated, negative, tired, sad, irritated, angry, in pain,</div>
spiralling out of control. Instead, I replied: I am fine.</div>
The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-69982344141617140942014-12-19T22:31:00.001-08:002014-12-19T22:31:31.311-08:00Topsy Turvy worldThis is a crazy world we live in, where killing children is justified revenge. Where raping women is considered pride. Where fighting religious wars is a noble quest. Where all lines of sanity have been blurred. A crazy world indeed. The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-29313892608961239262014-11-23T08:43:00.001-08:002014-11-23T08:43:54.520-08:00What is love?Love is not about beauty, not even about mannerisms, or a body. Love is a feeling, that transcends the exterior, goes beyond everything that one projects about themselves to feel touched by the other's soul. Love is a state of being, and a promise that completes you and guides you through life. Love is friendship, companionship, acceptance and trust. What I loved most about you was your mind. And I hoped that you would love me too - when my body was misshapen and my soul was broken... I looked for you. But you were long gone.The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-41310289314945632342014-08-02T21:40:00.000-07:002014-08-02T21:40:04.404-07:00Solitude<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Being alone scared the hell out of me. But I have now come to realise that there is a strange sense of relief and also freedom in it. To not be answerable to someone for anything can be calming. For the first time in forever, I feel content in just being with myself. Enjoying my own company, and doing things that make me happy. I can truly say that I am a wonderful person in my own right, and I don't need anybody else for affirmation. </div>
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The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-80901072323066508222014-07-30T19:35:00.000-07:002014-07-30T19:35:46.819-07:00Into the light...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I feel like I have been put under the microscope. Every inch of my being has been analysed, discussed and detailed. Numerous psychological and sociological tests that define my personality have been administered from the beginning of my MBA and I have been laid bare. It has been an uncomfortable experience, sometimes challenging, sometimes irritating and most times frustrating. However, I feel a strange sense of liberation as well. It seems like the darkest parts of my soul have been slowly but surely chipped away. I am now so much happier, more content and far more positive than I was early this year. Something within me has softened. I feel healed. And liberated.</div>
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The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-63761999645033910462014-04-27T07:53:00.003-07:002014-04-27T07:53:32.826-07:00Mirror Image<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiay_eity7V807c7E1qp2IA54FTG-tBZVB02IhJJb5CEv7bl4mxPDtWP9DzvhlQnGVxMFtsKb1xZLrQYB8UTQw0_sHFQ-2aXCZfWcutOACFlzUXMAcfrOEeBX6YyFkR3Ak1e7RS/s1600/wild.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiay_eity7V807c7E1qp2IA54FTG-tBZVB02IhJJb5CEv7bl4mxPDtWP9DzvhlQnGVxMFtsKb1xZLrQYB8UTQw0_sHFQ-2aXCZfWcutOACFlzUXMAcfrOEeBX6YyFkR3Ak1e7RS/s1600/wild.jpg" /></a></div>
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I am not like her. She has no
ambition. She feels defeated, deflated and tired. She looks at the mirror and
wonders where her best years went. Sleeps only so she can stop thinking of the
what-ifs. I am not like her, a shell of a woman with no will to live. With
darkness in her heart and no one to turn to when she feels vulnerable. I am not
like her, she is less than perfect, with so many flaws that people look at her
and make snap judgements about her whole being. She comes across as harsh,
angry at the world and herself for letting people get to her. She stands
defeated, nursing her wounds in the privacy of her bedroom. No one sees her
tears, only the walls she puts up between herself and other people. She is
beautiful in a wildly untameable way. I am not like her, only I am.</div>
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The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-59626000738686684812013-09-08T23:42:00.000-07:002013-09-08T23:42:46.643-07:00Rewind the clock and say "NO"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I wish I could rewind the clock. In my darkest hours and when despair tends to take over, I look to the past and wish I had never met you. Or I had never said "Yes". I wish I hadn't let you get close to me. I wish I had never been loved by you. I wish you had never emotionally tied me down. I wish you had never sapped my strength in your needy ways. I wish you had never called me and threatened to kill yourself- because it made me come back and pick you and your sorry little life up, piece by piece. I wish I had never given you the power to hurt me- to strip me down to my most vulnerable.</div>
The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-82891157819844980182013-05-26T05:54:00.001-07:002013-05-26T05:54:34.266-07:00Turning 30...and the perils associated with being single at 30.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It has been exactly 10 days since the dreaded 3-0 birthday happened. I slept being 29 one night, only to emerge the next day as a 30 year old. And while I wept at the loss of my so called 'youth', a part of me was serene, calm even. Being 30 makes me feel a little wiser, with a better grip on my future. I am the woman who has challenged convention. Who refused to be paraded in front of suitable suitors & their families like cattle, to be looked up and down, and sneered or whose weak points would be pointed out and worse made into some sort of dowry bargaining chip. I am the person who has loved, lost, loved some more and then lost again. That I am proud of what I have achieved thus far is an understatement. I am a financially independent girl who is doing well in her career in an MNC and professionally I have reached my goals. However, not being married and being nowhere close to finding that significant other leaves you feeling empty. While I do not care much for what the society or my own community has to say about my being unmarried at 30, when all other women in the community do not cross 25 without marriage, it does put considerable pressure on me and my family. My family has been wholly supportive, if a little worried. I don't blame them for being worried, it is what families do. And yet, somewhere, the emptiness of not having that one relationship which you can count upon to be there when you need someone is overwhelming. I am waiting for serendipity to happen...and hoping that the wait wont be too long. So cheers to being 30 and fabulous!</div>
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The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-85065265939124147792013-04-05T23:59:00.001-07:002013-04-05T23:59:37.357-07:00Never look back....and yet we do.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The other day I reached out to someone who I had known for some time on a social media platform, and who like me was at a crossroads in life. Over coffee and advice on how to plan my future, we realised that we had been living parallel lives. He like me had had an extremely long relationship that did not work out and both of us had been left to pick up the pieces of our lives. What was ironical was that we both had laid out these plans of how our lives were going to be and in my case, 10 years later I had seen it all unravel like a spool of wool. By this time I was supposed to have done a second MBA, gotten married and started planning kids. And here I was, alone and without the person I had imagined a life with, mulling over whether it was the right time for the second MBA and wondering how I was supposed to prepare for the toughest test of my life (in my head). </div>
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While this conversation ensured that I left with a conviction of where I was headed, it also brought back a flood of memories. Memories of moments spent charting out a future. Of shared dreams, destinies and best laid plans. Plans that were now empty of a direction. Plans that spoke of moments of togetherness. </div>
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And then I did something I shouldn't have. I went back and looked at my past. Looked at where they were and what they were upto. For the ones who were married, I looked at the life they now led. Possibly happy and possibly content. The feeling of sorrow and emptiness that filled me was overwhelming. I was overcome with the feeling of sadness and loss. It felt like a death. And in so many ways it was, the death of a relationship/s. The death of bonds that held me here. In this place, all this while. </div>
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In a way this journey also gave me a sense of release. Because I can now truly move on. The path before me is laid out once again and I have a purpose. A goal to achieve, another life to live.</div>
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The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-45297622266147914372013-01-13T23:08:00.000-08:002013-01-13T23:08:06.801-08:00Stop this madness, god.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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In a country that follows 300 crore different gods, religion is a sensitive topic at the best times. Write something that is deemed even a little controversial and you are sure to be censured by all and sundry. Self proclaimed keepers of the faith pounce upon those they feel are 'derogatory' to their notion of absolutism. And every religion/sect/cult/society is hell bent (ironical eh?) in shouting hoarse about its supremacy over others. In all of this fish-mongering, it is ironical to note that the gods have allowed such wide-spread destruction of the very planet that they supposedly protect, led by their worshippers and their delusional notion of worship. </div>
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At the very heart of it all is Hindu-ism. As a Hindu by birth, this is a religion that I have seen up close and personal, having practiced its rituals for a large part of my life. It is also the predominant religion of this country and hence the reason why I speak about it first. Over the years, I grew to be discontent with religion when most of my questions remained unanswered. When I asked my parents why we needed to burn firewood in the middle of the house to cleanse it (Havan- as I am an Arya Samaji), and why were we not worried about the smoke it generated, I was told to keep quiet and not get in the way of rituals.Every Ganesh Utsav, I looked at the state of all our water bodies and the sheer destruction of the flora & fauna and wondered whether the Elephant god would approve. Diwali brought with it widespread air pollution and filthy streets as we burst crackers by the car-load, on streets which bore the brunt for days. And while we confessed to being animal lovers, our house-hold animals suffered with the crazy noise levels that the crackers generated. Holi brought with it immense amounts of water wastage, with chemical colours that reacted with our skin and more often than not gave us a rash. Today is Makar Sankranti which means that hundreds of birds will be injured by glass covered maanja and possibly die. The Maha Kumbh is round the corner and thousands of people will dip themselves into the Ganges- by far one of our most polluted rivers due to the sheer amount of garlands, diyas, ashes, etc that are submerged into it in the name of our religion. The pollution of the Ganges has now reached cancerous levels and yet we carry on, doing what we must, because it is the way things are done. </div>
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I am in no way trying to say that any one religion is to blame. I would instead place the blame squarely on each and every one of our shoulders. Everytime we go ahead and throw bread into the nearest lake to feed the "fishes", or garlands due to the idea that the gods will be happy, or immerse idols into waterbodies that feed the life force of a city, we are killing ourselves a little more. Think about it, the 5 elements that we are supposedly supposed to worship- Earth, Fire, Water, Wind, Sky have all been polluted by the very practices used to venerate them. And yet we continue unabated, blinded by practices and rituals that should no longer apply. Stop this madness, god.</div>
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The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-90766038952465803362012-12-28T04:41:00.001-08:002012-12-28T04:41:50.152-08:00Why women are their worst enemies...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Recently I met one of my oldest friends who had come down from the states, after a gap of nearly two years. She was attending another common friend's wedding at my insistence. I had asked her to be part of the wedding since she was here anyway. Now my friend is someone who is profoundly beautiful in her simplicity. She is genuinely the nicest person I have ever come across and very rarely criticises anyone else, always seeing the good in every situation. She is also someone who suffers from low self esteem about her own body image and has struggled with her weight gain for some time. That she had put on a few kilos since the last time we had met had not even registered with me since I was just so happy to meet after such a long time. </div>
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And then we met this snarky classmate of ours at this wedding, and the first thing she had to say after meeting my friend was "Look at you, you have inflated like a balloon!" This classmate is someone who herself suffers from a weight problem and has nothing going for her in the looks department. And yet, the only way she can think of making herself feel good is by pulling down someone else. My friend was extremely hurt by this careless comment and will carry the effects of that stinging remark for a long time. And this brings me to the point I am trying to make. Women in general can be extremely vicious to one another. In our quest for perfection, we try and point out flaws of everyone we meet, just so we can compare how we are doing in comparison. We revel in someone else' misfortune and feel secretly happy when someone else fails. We delve into our enemies lives and try to guage whether they are miserable or not, and if not, try and add to their misery with bitchy statements and careless remarks. I have seen my share of such women, and I have only one thing to say to the likes of you:</div>
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Remember that you are your worst enemy. You are the reason why you failed- that you will fail is an inevitability and when you do, there will be someone else in the world who will laugh and rejoice at your failure. But you brought this on yourself. Everytime you knowingly went ahead and spoke against someone else, belittled someone, or compared lives with those you think are less fortunate than you are, you challenged fate into bringing the same upon yourself. And when fate deals you that final blow, I hope that you take one moment to think about what this makes you- a pathetic, desperate loser.</div>
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The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-86775272917530406082012-12-10T04:13:00.002-08:002012-12-10T04:13:40.097-08:00Your true worth lies in the mirror.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I have spent years in self doubt. Treading the path of righteousnous and of what was expected of me as a 'good' daughter/ sister/ girlfriend/ lover. Of trying to live up to the expectations of the people around me. And somehow I have never truly lived up to the one person who should be most important- Me. </div>
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When I look into the mirror I find myself looking at only flaws- miniscule lines appearing on my forehead, that one half white hair on the crown of my head, a new spot or blemish, or the extra fat pockets on my cheek, waist or arms. I am never really satisfied.</div>
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People see an extremely confident person in me, someone who holds her head up high and is not afraid to state an opinion. But when that person looks in the mirror, the confidence falls away like a veil. All the self doubt and nervousness creeps in and makes me question myself and my life. And all of this stems from the fact that I belong to a family whose expectations can never be matched. Being a perennial disappointment because of how I look, how I behave or what I have achieved chips away at the carefully constructed self image. That every disappointment in my life is attributed as a failure and a picture of bleakness is painted for my future does not help. </div>
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In fact, it makes me question the intention of everyone who ever compliments me. When someone says "You are pretty" I look at them with disbelief- because surely this person must exagerrate or overlook my very obvious flaws. Or when someone says "They admire my confidence" I roll my eyes because they have no idea where that confidence stems from- from the basic need of self preservation. My friends have for years tried to reason with me- counselling against putting myself down at every juncture. But then, 29 years of conditioning does not disappear overnight.</div>
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I am trying, I truly am and I can finally say that I have learnt to love myself a little- flaws and all. </div>
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The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-90180609897423621902012-12-08T09:48:00.002-08:002012-12-08T09:48:32.865-08:00Reflections of a restless mind<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Days fade in and out. And yet nothing seems normal anymore. The routine fails to inspire even a modicum of emotion, until you realise you are not 'living' life, but just existing. Existing to just get through each day. Only to face another one. A life without meaning.</div>
The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-40682839731294813582012-11-17T21:29:00.001-08:002012-11-17T21:29:15.361-08:00Touched by death<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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You never expect it, most often fear it, and do not know how to deal with it, but death always hits you like a force to be reckoned with. My companion and love for the last 7 years, Tiramisu died yesterday. Her death was painful and a release, so relief was one of the foremost emotions I felt when I heard the news. We had her admitted at the animal hospital at Parel since a week and each day was a struggle to try and delay the inevitable. Dogs are fragile, Labradors more so, and her kidneys had given out. There was very little hope but we still fought, battled against all consuming blackness till the very last day. Hope is such a treacherous emotion, it betrays you into believing the impossible. And that is what we did. Hope against hope that her Creatinine & Ammonia levels would go down. That she would stop seizing and start eating food. And that she would come home soon with us. </div>
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13 hours a day at the Animal hospital takes a toll on you mentally, physically and emotionally. It plays with your mind and makes you as fragile as a fruitcake. I no longer cared for how I looked or what anybody thought. I did not care for what I ate or whether I slept or not. People who met me in these 7 days will know how different I was. Not normal for sure. But when someone you care about the most in the world is in distress, very little matters. </div>
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By the end of the 7 days the senior doctors had told us that there was nothing that could be done and that we needed to take a decision. The junior doctors still wanted to fight, but we pondered over how much more pain we could let her go through. The day she died is the day we would have made the hardest decision ever. And she saved us from that too. The guilt that would have inevitably creeped up and made us wonder whether we were killing her and whether it was too soon. By going away on her own, she saved us from potentially blaming ourselves. That was Tiramisu. Gracious in life and in death. The gentlest of souls with an elegance that was uncanny. I hope she is in a better place now. And I know that I will miss her forever. </div>
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Touched by death, lets live now.</div>
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The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-87619954976550601382012-11-15T09:05:00.000-08:002012-11-15T09:05:02.901-08:00Let it be.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Another day goes by and the feeling of missing the bigger picture grows within me. All my life, I have lived by ambitions. They have driven me to strive for more than just mediocrity. To rise above and challenge my limits each day. And yet, somewhere the fire to achieve has dimmed. Replaced by a complacency that is extremely scary. Because to become complacent would mean giving up. Letting go. Fading away.</div>
The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-27957088033909438632012-06-20T02:18:00.000-07:002012-06-20T02:18:10.946-07:00Love in the times of cynicism.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So there we have it. A world full of cynics. Determined to run down the virtues of everyone they meet and focus on the minute-est of flaws. I wonder whether this pursuit of perfection will lead to the downfall of the human race as we know it? Maybe not. But then again, everything is transient these days anyway. So how does 'love' or the grand notion thereof, stand a chance?</div>The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12452352.post-36751930592365389942012-01-07T02:20:00.000-08:002012-01-07T02:42:52.423-08:00The value of human life.<div style="text-align: justify;">Its funny how a chance remark can get you thinking. A friend just mentioned that a funeral in Mumbai costs Rs. 250/- and triggered a train of thought which questioned the value of human life. We are so engrossed in our daily lives that we do not stop to ponder over how meaningless life and death has become in India. Everyday, scores of people die on our streets. Some are victims of disease, hunger and poverty. Some are victims of chance. But the worst are those that are victims of fate and apathy. I remember seeing a hunchbacked old lady at a signal I passed everyday, on my way to work. I was well aware that the beggars of Mumbai are a nexus and a well-oiled machine working with clockwork precision, and usually I would never give any of them any money. However, this lady was always an exception. Just the sight of her old, frail, hunchbacked self sitting in the sun and approaching cars slowly was enough to move me. I admit to giving her more than just mere change. And a part of me always wished that I wouldn't see her there the next day. That she would be allowed to rest and live rather than beg. But come sunshine or rain, she was always there. As time passed, it almost became a routine for me to hand over a Rs. 20/- to her, if only to elicit a toothless grin from her weather-beaten leathery face. At times she would preen and bless me, at other times sulk and ask for more. Whatever the case, I developed a strong affection for that hunchbacked old lady at the traffic signal...</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Months passed and suddenly, I stopped seeing her at her usual perch by the signal. I waited for a few days before asking some of the other beggars about her. Was told that she had passed away and the BMC had taken the body away because they didn't have money for her funeral. As tears rolled down my cheek I wished I had been there to give her that Rs. 250/- for a dignified death. </div>The Soothsayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13219040360576878502noreply@blogger.com2