Is dreaming a crime?

I woke up this morning, with a feeling of absolute disarray.
Like as if my feet were stuck in quicksand & soft waves of water washed over the quicksand giving me hope to get out but actually pushing me further inside. Water was behaving like a villan with a visage which was the epitome of pretention.

And then back in reality someone yelled at me.
What started as a discussion cascaded into a verbal duel in a time span of less than a few minutes. Rather verbal attack. It was one-sided.

I was yelled at for being shallow.
For being a person who is superficial. For being a dreamer.
For dreaming of encompassing things that 'could always happen'. 
For dreaming of a better future.

Now since it was a verbal 'attack', I'm going to clear my stand through this blog post.

Is dreaming a crime?
No it isn't.
If Kekule wouldn't have dreamt we wouldn't have had the structure of aromatic compounds.
The base tune of the Beatles song 'Yesterday' came to Paul McCartney in a dream.
Now coming to day-dreaming.
It's a pivotal thing.
If you wouldn't day-dream, you wouldn't aspire. If you wouldn't aspire, you wouldn't implement. If you wouldn't implement, you would never achieve.

Now for me after step 2 in the above nothing really follows but I have a belief. A belief which tells me that there will be a day when I'll wake up in the morning and will be determined to achieve. That day when I'll start implementing.
And hopefully it won't be too late.

And I know one thing as each day passes, I get closer to THAT day. :)

Lines in Charcoal.

It has been 2 years now. Or 1. No two.
And although at one point of time in life, I felt that I would remember this episode like the back of my hand, I can't. It takes efforts to recall.
It takes me time to arrange all those incidents in my head in a chronological order.
Arrange all those times where I felt my life was worse than a Taylor Swift song.

All those times when a naive, unprepared 14 year old soul felt like it wouldn't survive to see another day.

Okay, this blogpost isn't in anyway to glorify how stupid I was & how much of a jerk you were.
It is just to talk about a life-changing incident.
You. Thank you.
Nothing in the world could slap me as hard as having you in my life did.

Teenagers in 2012, we've a series of hookups, breakups, heartbreaks, but we move over it.  Rather we get too involved in life as we know it.

This was (if I may have the liberty of calling it so) my first heart break.
What makes it different?
Well the fact that I still don't really know what can it be exactly categorized into.

So yes. You changed me.
You taught me to open my eyes to another side to people. You made me realise that the world is not JUST full of colours, it has rather strong streaks of black as well. Lines in charcoal. And those lines, are what defines those clouds of colours. 
You taught me to be meaner, nastier and above all stronger.
You taught me how to feel blessed. (This came later though)
You taught me to deal with problems. You made me egotistical. You made me realise that no matter what problem I'm dealing with, someone else is dealing with something worse somewhere.

You helped me find me.

Apple Mango Cherry Jam.

We are all wired differently. Meant to think differently.
If we all thought that a red apple was a good apple then people would eat only the red ones.
But there does exist a small cross section which loves the green apples.

A cross section that might not eat apples all together.
Another cross section which might eat anything as long as it is an apple.
And yeah stuff like that.

Let's think of this like an apple.
I am a certain type, with a certain colour & a certain shape. My neighbor in this apple crate might be completely different or we might share the same colour or the same shape or both. But there has to be something different. I might turn out to be more sour.
So basically, not like this isn't known to mankind but we are all different apples.
So don't compare two apples.
So learn to accept different apples.
So understand that you & another apple might be same.
So understand that although this sounds weird, it makes hell lot of sense.

Aah sucks. This is what a cold does to my mind. :/

F*** You!

I'm being hypocritical using those asterisks!
I mean I abuse a lot.
Surpassing levels of what is considered an acceptable level of abuses for a girl.
Like take this example-
I have an examination on Physics tomorrow. In the vicinity of my neighborhood, some guy, some where is getting married.
Indians & Marriages = Food, Clothes, Bling & an annoying cacophony for the non-participant.
So yes there was a typical band baja wala.
Playing numbers which I (ordinarily) would have gyrated to without a thought. But then Physics - my bitch.
:]

So in a case of 'grapes are sour' I started abusing. Cussing loudly in my room.
'F*** you motherf*****'

(I don't want to contaminate my blog with the real deal! :P)

And I realised it was a cathartic reaction, I was feeling blissful after doing this even though the music hadn't stopped!

Now this is what conclusion I came to, as humans we should cuss. Scream, abuse, yell.
Screw you!
It helps, in a massive way!

A study had proven that people who cuss everytime they stub their toe are in less pain after doing so in comparison to the ones who didn't do so.

So message for the week-
Next time you stub your toe, yell out-
'You cheap, whore-house resident d***head'!
Heck your neighbor pissed you off?
Your ex boyfriend can't get over you?
Let it out!!!

For f**k's sake. Abuse.

Good Morning Wali Auntyji!

Which realms of darkness has selflessness faded into?
Or is it just that one is so involved in self that thinking away (less) from yourself seems like a rabid concept?
My personal belief of how you need to walk over people in this "cash-bling-more cash-more bling" world tends to get contradicted.
Contradicted by what I see.

Contradicted by Good Morning Wali Auntyji.

Well that does sound weird but yes I've re-christened my bus supervisor with that title.

This lady replaced our original bus supervisor.
The original one was a creep. Like really!
At 6 in the morning, she used to stare at every individual in the bus with an unfathomable expression and to this day I swear it scared me.
Like freaked me out.
She gave me negative vibes. Really polluted ones.
(Again maybe it was just a matter of perception. But yet.)

Now anyway coming back to Good Morning Wali Auntyji, on her first Monday morning, as I entered the bus, she said something which sounded like good morning. But given the fact that nobody has done that ever before I just dismissed that as my brain having over-exerted.
And then another child got in and she did say the damned words after all!

This "Good Morning" practice went on and she hasn't stopped yet!
I'm just curious to see will it last while she lasts?

This is what set me thinking, about selflessness.
Her job profile nowhere covered that she had to wish children in the morning, all she is getting paid for is sitting on a seat & supervising the children.
Some don't wish her back, some give her a confused look, some do wish her back, but none of that deters her.
It's like a small greeting such as a Good Morning with a smile, first thing in the morning, does make you happy, not so significantly but it's a positive start nevertheless.

I guess I've reached the answer to my question then; No selflessness hasn't faded into the realms of darkness,  there just isn't enough light shining over it. :)

Stories. Theories. And some more crap.

It's been a month almost since I last wrote. Maybe that is exactly the reason for the chaotic state I'm seeing myself in, right now.

*I*
(Yes only I feel I am in a chaotic state.)

Prior warning: This post is going to be extensive. I haven't written in really long.

1.I talked to a friend the other day, he casually mentioned how some *statistical number* of people tend to tell their problems to others just to, in a way, gain sympathy.
So it set me thinking (I realised one more thing, I think a lot!) over why do some people (ME! ME! ME!!) tell people about their life, why are some people so keen on being an open book.
Socializing is a different thing, you talk about ice-breaking topics first, gradually diverting to small talk.
Building walls around yourself is also another. It is just a futile attempt trying to 'stay alone' in a world overburdened with overpopulation anyway.
But what I've been doing is different, I guess it's just talking, I mean talking about things to feel that there is a purpose to your life. Talking about things that affect you, things that make you smile.
I think yes I'm thinking too much, talking is a passion & I am one overtly indulgent person. :P

2. It is going to be a year since I wrote my board examination & honestly I miss that studious side to me.
I used to wake up early to study Physics & almost fall asleep in the attempt. Last year, same time, 7am was early for me. This year at 7, I'm in a class in school, discussing homework maybe.
Time changes, moves so fast that before you realise, a year might have passed, maybe I won't be AS nostalgic next year.
BUT this has been a life altering year. :))

3. Are there really two spellings to realise?
Realize & Realise?

4. I've been reading a book- The Palace of Illusions.
It's a book on the Mahabharata from Draupadi's perspective.
And very honestly the book is making me feel that pain.
I mean the pain she went through, after her brother-in-law tried to dishonor her in front of such a huge gathering & how just everybody although pained didn't dare to raise a voice, didn't bother to protect the last shread of shame.How she wanted the war to happen because she wanted revenge for being publicly humiliated! I can feel that pain & anger for some damned reason.

And the one part that actually hurt me more or less was how complex her story with Karna was. What started as love, how it  veered onto become a sentiment layered with layers of anger, hatred, relinquished love, forgiveness and how returned to where it began, love.
And like the story basically says, you can't withhold your heart. You might be married to a certain man but your heart might be belonging to some other man itself, all you can do is manage your actions so that they don't give away.

It made me feel a new emotion. I smelt what revenge must have smelt like. I felt like I was tasting vengeance.
Basically the book has transported me to a place, where no book or movie has ever before.

A place where I'm living like the person who I can see all sides to.

*sigh*

Now ALL feels great!
Writing IS my drug, I guess! :D

But I'm still a child.

We all go through an array of emotions on seeing a 4 or 5 year old. More specifically keeping aside the "Aww" & "How cute" the predominant feeling is that of wanting to run back to your days as a child, savour each & every moment as it passed.
And that's why most of us believe in those cliched quotes which revolve around how we always wanted to grow up as kids & how as grownups we want to go back to our days of glory!

Coming to think of it, like everyone else, I wish I could too.
Run.
To those times when no matter how you dressed up no one would be excessively judgmental about it. Nor would you be over critical about people & their choices, their clothes, their dressing sense, their theories about life, their philosophies, their traits.

To those times when a guy you shared your crayons with was your friend.
Now even despite sharing a mother, there is animosity between brothers.

To those times when the one task which would leave me in a tizzy would be nothing but colouring inside the lines.
Not endless submissions in school coupled with expectations & pressures.

To those times when 'being cynical' were words which I would eventually learn to spell.

To those times when the only things I had to choose from where the clothes my doll would wear.

To those times when everything could somehow become a thing for your parents to deal with.

Ma

So maybe these thoughts just stem from extreme laziness & partial inadequacy in living life as I inch closer on a bridge to being a grown up. Yes, this point of view definetly comes from the fact that there's a part of me completely unprepared to face life as such. Unprepared to leave a mind which is still holding on to the last remains of innocence. Unprepared to live a life where nothing will shield me from disappointments. But someday I actually will be ready. I'll be armed. To become an individual. I'll be ready to grow up. :)