Category Archives: Roving I

Feeling in HDR

Do you remember that place? A time when every emotion was a Picasso painting? Vibrant jealousy. Mind-bending joy. Lucious fear oozing through pores. Jarring ecstasy coating the roof of your mouth, the back of your neck and the inside of your navel. Crippling wonder that made you want to stop and hold the cosmos for as fleeting a moment as one lifetime would be.

Yeah, I’ve been there. We all have. Most likely we glimpsed it now and then as children and were told it was all fairytales and horror stories. And then as adolescents, it burst upon us suddenly. That one moment when we suddenly attained puberty. Or fell in love. Or watched someone die. Or didn’t fit a favourite teeshirt anymore. Or saw somebody else’s name written, emblazoned in a place that used to have our own and feel like home.

I was in that place all of the last month. It started with a new year resolution to be easier on myself, to relax some of my fear fortresses. Maybe it was the years I spent inside and that it was time to come out. Maybe it was the sleep-deprived, alcohol-soaked advice I received on New Year’s. Maybe it was just that person. Maybe it was me.

I’ve been feeling so much, struggling to set one foot before the first, walk in a straight line, act the part of the intelligent person I have enacted for so long that I forgot it was a part. I forgot I’m not meant to walk or even run. I’m meant to fly. I forgot that sky and water merge in my universe and I have always been a good swimmer. I forgot that I’d closed my eyes because the last time I glimpsed beauty, I thought it destroyed me but really, I only closed my eyes. I opened my eyes and look, the world is in HDR again.

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FEELING IN HDR Do you remember that place? A time when every emotion was a Picasso painting? Vibrant jealousy. Mind-bending joy. Lucious fear oozing through pores. Jarring ecstasy coating the roof of your mouth, the back of your neck and the inside of your navel. Crippling wonder that made you want to stop and hold the cosmos for as fleeting a moment as one lifetime would be. Yeah, I've been there. We all have. Most likely we glimpsed it now and then as children and were told it was all fairytales and horror stories. And then as adolescents, it burst upon us suddenly. That one moment when we suddenly attained puberty. Or fell in love. Or watched someone die. Or didn't fit a favourite teeshirt anymore. Or saw somebody else's name written, emblazoned in a place that used to have our own and feel like home. I was in that place all of the last month. It started with a new year resolution to be easier on myself, to relax some of my fear fortresses. Maybe it was the years I spent inside and that it was time to come out. Maybe it was the sleep-deprived, alcohol-soaked advice I received on New Year's. Maybe it was just that person. Maybe it was me. I've been feeling so much, struggling to set one foot before the first, walk in a straight line, act the part of the intelligent person I have enacted for so long that I forgot it was a part. I forgot I'm not meant to walk or even run. I'm meant to fly. I forgot that sky and water merge in my universe and I have always been a good swimmer. I forgot that I'd closed my eyes because the last time I glimpsed beauty, I thought it destroyed me but really, I only closed my eyes. I opened my eyes and look, the world is in HDR again. #theideasmithy #blog #love #feelings #emotionalintelligence #emotion_daily #loveit #letyourselfgo #feels #life #living #lifelessons

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If you liked this post, you’ll want to follow the Facebook Page and the Youtube channel. I’m Ramya Pandyan (a.k.a. Ideasmith) and I’m on Twitter and Instagram.

The Sign Of Confusion

Confused? Be.

How scared we are of confusion, to even admit to being confused. And how much shaming we endure when we do. Let’s face the cloud with eyes open and examine what it means to be confused.

Sometimes people hide behind “I’m confused” as a way to avoid the responsibility of thinking. But if you’re reading my writing, you probably enjoy thinking. Even complex ideas like emotions and morality. Thinking is not a chore, not a burden, not a monster. It’s adventure.
So what does it mean for a person like you or I to say “I’m confused.”? It means feeling unable to process thoughts in the straight line they generally follow. Something is blocking the steady stream, the usual order that we know life to go. Something is slowing us down. Something is obscuring our view. Something is pulling us in a different direction. Maybe it’s another stream of thoughts. Maybe it’s a person. Or maybe it’s that feeling that something doesn’t add up, doesn’t fit. Something is not okay.

The world shames us for confusion, possibly because it means it means decisions and actions will be paused. And this is inconvenient and scary. That’s probably why the statement is often met with a ‘Buck up and do it’ attitude. But if you are able to separate the shaming and pressure that comes from outside, you might find that confusion is actually a great alarm sign telling you to stop and consider. Honour that feeling. It might keep you from falling into a trap.

You’re confused. Not gullible.

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THE SIGN OF CONFUSION Confused? Be. How scared we are of confusion, to even admit to being confused. And how much shaming we endure when we do. Let’s face the cloud with eyes open and examine what it means to be confused. Sometimes people hide behind “I’m confused” as a way to avoid the responsibility of thinking. But if you’re reading my writing, you probably enjoy thinking. Even complex ideas like emotions and morality. Thinking is not a chore, not a burden, not a monster. It’s adventure. So what does it mean for a person like you or I to say “I’m confused.”? It means feeling unable to process thoughts in the straight line they generally follow. Something is blocking the steady stream, the usual order that we know life to go. Something is slowing us down. Something is obscuring our view. Something is pulling us in a different direction. Maybe it’s another stream of thoughts. Maybe it’s a person. Or maybe it’s that feeling that something doesn’t add up, doesn’t fit. Something is not okay. The world shames us for confusion, possibly because it means it means decisions and actions will be paused. And this is inconvenient and scary. That's probably why the statement is often met with a 'Buck up and do it' attitude. But if you are able to separate the shaming and pressure that comes from outside, you might find that confusion is actually a great alarm sign telling you to stop and consider. Honour that feeling. It might keep you from falling into a trap. You’re confused. Not gullible. PC: @lumographer07 at @alphabetsambar #theideasmithy #blog #confusion #emotions #thinking #thoughts #logic #relating #emotionintelligence #confused

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If you liked this post, you’ll want to follow the Facebook Page and the Youtube channel. I’m Ramya Pandyan (a.k.a. Ideasmith) and I’m on Twitter and Instagram.

Technicolour Prisms

Why do we look back when the natural way of things is to move forward? Because it’s easy? Because it’s nicer? Life never seems quite as wonderful when it is being lived. But in comparison with what we’re feeling and facing and surviving at this moment, the heydays seem like glorious times.

I know why this is so. An experience being lived is an onslaught of sights and sounds and feelings and thoughts and information hitting us faster than we can handle. Later, we examine our scars, our lint, our debris and flotsam. Sometimes, we add to it from what someone else said or something we read or learnt elsewhere. And we construct a story. We build a painting. The present has a way of being simultaneously overpowering and mundane at the same time. So in our stories to ourselves, we colour hard and deep.

The colour spectrum of life goes in the opposite direction from a ray of light going through a prism. The future is an unknown cavern of blankness. The present is a hard prism that’s simultaneously confusing and colourless. But the past, the past is every colour we choose to lay on it. We are light beams travelling backwards in time, just as we are conscious experience moving forward.

Small wonder then, so many of us spend our lives rapidly turning forwards and backwards, always worried we’re going to run into some disaster but unable to keep our eyes away from the alluring past for too long. The blankness ahead is inviting and scary and what we’ve left behind reminds us of the colour we turn it into. The past is technicolour and we are the prisms that make it so.

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TECHNICOLOUR PRISMS Why do we look back when the natural way of things is to move forward? Because it’s easy? Because it’s nicer? Life never seems quite as wonderful when it is being lived. But in comparison with what we’re feeling and facing and surviving at this moment, the heydays seem like glorious times. I know why this is so. An experience being lived is an onslaught of sights and sounds and feelings and thoughts and information hitting us faster than we can handle. Later, we examine our scars, our lint, our debris and flotsam. Sometimes, we add to it from what someone else said or something we read or learnt elsewhere. And we construct a story. We build a painting. The present has a way of being simultaneously overpowering and mundane at the same time. So in our stories to ourselves, we colour hard and deep. The colour spectrum of life goes in the opposite direction from a ray of light going through a prism. The future is an unknown cavern of blankness. The present is a hard prism that’s simultaneously confusing and colourless. But the past, the past is every colour we choose to lay on it. We are light beams travelling backwards in time, just as we are conscious experience moving forward. Small wonder then, so many of us spend our lives rapidly turning forwards and backwards, always worried we’re going to run into some disaster but unable to keep our eyes away from the alluring past for too long. The blankness ahead is inviting and scary and what we’ve left behind reminds us of the colour we turn it into. The past is technicolour and we are the prisms that make it so. #theideasmithy #blog #pastpresentfuture #timeline #prism #technicolor #lookingback #lifelessons #thepast #timepasses #ageing #gloriouspast #scaryfuture #future

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If you liked this post, you’ll want to follow the Facebook Page and the Youtube channel. I’m Ramya Pandyan (a.k.a. Ideasmith) and I’m on Twitter and Instagram.

Jupiter’s Volcanos: We Are Both Sabu & Chacha

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JUPITER'S VOLCANOES Sabu, an alien muscleman under the friendly stewardship of the moustachioed Chacha Chaudhry was an integral part of every Indian childhood. The caption that accompanied a panel preceding a fight scene said, "Jab Sabu ko gussa aata hain, to Jupiter pe jwalamukhi phatata Hain" (When Sabu gets angry, a volcano erupts at some distant place in Jupiter). It was fun to imagine the drama of a planet far away responding to what was happening right on Earth. Sabu is the the primal, muscled alter ego to the mild-looking, benevolent senior citizen whose mind nevertheless works faster than a computer. As an alien, he is not as subject to Earthly rules and his primal responses were used for laughs as Chacha explained how the world worked. But even with Sabu, rage was a displaced emotion, bearing consequences in a far away place. I painted this on a teeshirt for a former love. Curiously telling, since that relationship was pockmarked with suppressed rage and every form of twisted anger possible. The manifestations of rage happen up close and personal, inside our own psyche and everyone nearby. Yet is our anger any different from other emotions that we own more proudly? Anger rises from grief, from fear, from caring even. It happens to us all. If you live in a busy metro, you've probably already felt it already today. Annoyance at flapping curtains. Disproportionate rage at the alarm clock. Irritation at fellow commuter. Mild venom at the colleagues/teachers waiting for you on Monday morning. These are you as much as the laughter that tickled you on Saturday night, the contentment of a good Sunday meal that you ate. Yet, you plod on past the grief, the micro-hurt, the frustrations because that is the way the world must work. You my friend, carry both Chacha Chaudhry and Sabu in you. As do we all. Let them share the panel. They're good for each other. #Comics #indiancomics #diamondcomics #chachachaudhary #chachachaudhry #prancomics #comicbook #fabricpainting #mondaymotivation #angermanagement #rage #anger #Ideart #painting

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Sabu, an alien muscleman under the friendly stewardship of the moustachioed Chacha Chaudhry was an integral part of every Indian childhood. The caption that accompanied a panel preceding a fight scene said, “Jab Sabu ko gussa aata hain, to Jupiter pe jwalamukhi phatata hain” (When Sabu gets angry, a volcano erupts at some distant place in Jupiter). It was fun to imagine the drama of a planet far away responding to what was happening right on Earth. Sabu is the the primal, muscled alter ego to the mild-looking, benevolent senior citizen whose mind nevertheless works faster than a computer. As an alien, he is not as subject to Earthly rules and his primal responses were used for laughs as Chacha explained how the world worked. But even with Sabu, rage was a displaced emotion, bearing consequences in a far away place.

I painted this on a teeshirt for a former love. Curiously telling, since that relationship was pockmarked with suppressed rage and every form of twisted anger possible. The manifestations of rage happen up close and personal, inside our own psyche and everyone nearby. Yet is our anger any different from other emotions that we own more proudly?

Anger rises from grief, from fear, from caring even. It happens to us all. If you live in a busy metro, you’ve probably already felt it already today. Annoyance at flapping curtains. Disproportionate rage at the alarm clock. Irritation at fellow commuter. Mild venom at the colleagues/teachers waiting for you on Monday morning. These are you as much as the laughter that tickled you on Saturday night, the contentment of a good Sunday meal that you ate. Yet, you plod on past the grief, the micro-hurt, the frustrations because that is the way the world must work.

You my friend, carry both Chacha Chaudhry and Sabu in you. As do we all. Let them share the panel. They’re good for each other.

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If you liked this post, you’ll want to follow the Facebook Page and the Youtube channel. I’m Ramya Pandyan (a.k.a. Ideasmith) and I’m on Twitter and Instagram.

Be Incomplete

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BE INCOMPLETE. BE IN THE LIVING. Today I didn't feel cool, collected or in control. I left home less put together than usual (hair still wet, no lipstick). I impulsively changed my Saturday plans. I stumbled into things, upturned a glass of water into my plate, dropped my phone, pulled a chair onto my saree and bumped into people. It prompted my friend @shaunwilliamsi to remark that he'd never seen me this clumsy before. I gawped at beautiful women wondering if they were judging me or laughing at me. I froze with a stiff smile at a acquaintance who had never spoken to me before, hugged me and asked me to dance. My wise @deveshm told me to just let go and enjoy being the teenager that I never was. I remember why I never was this – because I hated it. It's hard, really hard to stand in that place of vulnerability, without the defenses of perfection or control. It's terrifying and I've never stayed in it a second longer than I had to. But the kind of strength that one projects with grace, with style, with articulation is just that – a projection. A performance. A mask. A wall. Real courage is to stand as your messy, uncontained self and face the world with it saying, "This is me. I have a place here too." Today I was messy. Today I was brave. Today I was me. PC: @jaivardhan.verma #IWear #saree #sareestyle #indianwear #growingup #adulthood #courage #strength #strengthquotes #quotes #lifequotes #lifelessons #inspiration #beingyou #beingyourself

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Today I didn’t feel cool, collected or in control. I left home less put together than usual (hair still wet, no lipstick). I impulsively changed my Saturday plans. I stumbled into things, upturned a glass of water into my plate, dropped my phone, pulled a chair onto my saree and bumped into people. It prompted my friend @shaunwilliamsi to remark that he’d never seen me this clumsy before.

I gawped at beautiful women wondering if they were judging me or laughing at me. I froze with a stiff smile at a acquaintance who had never spoken to me before, hugged me and asked me to dance.

My wise @deveshm told me to just let go and enjoy being the teenager that I never was. I remember why I never was this – because I hated it. It’s hard, really hard to stand in that place of vulnerability, without the defenses of perfection or control. It’s terrifying and I’ve never stayed in it a second longer than I had to.

But the kind of strength that one projects with grace, with style, with articulation is just that – a projection. A performance. A mask. A wall. Real courage is to stand as your messy, uncontained self and face the world with it saying, “This is me. I have a place here too.” Today I was messy. Today I was brave. Today I was me.

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If you liked this post, you’ll want to follow the Facebook Page and the Youtube channel. I’m Ramya Pandyan (a.k.a. Ideasmith) and I’m on Twitter and Instagram.

We Have Many Futures

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The hardest thing to let go of, is what you thought the future was going to be. We get told so much about persistence and the merits of believing in one's dream. And we're only reminded that the world is full of other options, when we're at the absolute dark end. But the truth is that life is full of a million possibilities every minute. Great intellect may let you see these possibilities well in advance. And since we almost never pay attention to our emotions, we let what comes up, exist just so long as it's convenient – feeling joyful at one prospect over another. And we respond to other feelings that come up, with dismay, confusion or worse – denial. That's why we also cling to situations and people long after they've proven themselves bad or even just irrelevant to us. We're trying to recapture that first convenient feeling, assuming that's the only (right) one to feel. But the truth is, just as it is possible to hold several thoughts on one's head at one time, it is also possible to feel a lot of things for the same person or situation, simultaneously. Acknowledge the flaws in that person you thought was so perfect, the unsightly bumps in that new road. Honour the presence of all those feelings. They have insights for you. Understanding what they're saying may make the difference between a crash landing and swerving away in time for the ride to stay fun. #hope #future #emotions #everydayliving #rider #biker #morning #morningmotivation #mumbai #mumbai_uncensored @mymumbai #urbanskyline #cityskyline #city #citywatch #roadtrip #roadbike #cityscape #citylights #loner

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The hardest thing to let go of, is what you thought the future was going to be.

We get told so much about persistence and the merits of believing in one’s dream. And we’re only reminded that the world is full of other options, when we’re at the absolute dark end. But the truth is that life is full of a million possibilities every minute.
Great intellect may let you see these possibilities well in advance. And since we almost never pay attention to our emotions, we let what comes up, exist just so long as it’s convenient – feeling joyful at one prospect over another. And we respond to other feelings that come up, with dismay, confusion or worse – denial.

That’s why we also cling to situations and people long after they’ve proven themselves bad or even just irrelevant to us. We’re trying to recapture that first convenient feeling, assuming that’s the only (right) one to feel.

But the truth is, just as it is possible to hold several thoughts on one’s head at one time, it is also possible to feel a lot of things for the same person or situation, simultaneously. Acknowledge the flaws in that person you thought was so perfect, the unsightly bumps in that new road.

Honour the presence of all those feelings. They have insights for you. Understanding what they’re saying may make the difference between a crash landing and swerving away in time for the ride to stay fun.

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If you liked this post, you’ll want to follow the Facebook Page and the Youtube channel. I’m Ramya Pandyan (a.k.a. Ideasmith) and I’m on Twitter and Instagram.

Alone Time Doesn’t Always Look Like This

It’s not that I haven’t been writing. I have, it’s just not here. I’ve been posting longer essays on Instagram. I’ll repost some of my favorites from there here too. Here’s the first. You can scroll down to see the full text in this post, if you don’t feel like reading it on Instagram.

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Alone time doesn't always look like this. More often than not, it's faded, crumpled, tattered even. And not in artful, Instagram-worthy ways. But it's important. We need tough love and the people who give it to us, especially if you, like me, find it hard to keep your head on straight in the throes of powerful emotion. People like us, we also need the gentle balm of those who tell us, it's okay to grieve, that it's fine to be sad even if it's not logical, to ache even if we were forewarned, even if we should have known better. And finally we need to meet ourselves, in our rawest forms. It doesn't have to happen immediately. Me, I have an inbuilt safety valve that lets me tuck away my messiest self deep down till I reach a time and place that I can take it out and face it, safely. And that must happen. A time when no other commitment or duty or person must intrude. Nothing else allowed to be more important than your own feelings which must be faced with no voices of the world interfering. And that is the time when you'll realise the ugliness is not you or in you. All you are, is a witness to the world and occasionally, a reflection of it. Reflections pass. You will, too. Watch it alone. PC & edit: @unstable_elemnt #beach #alonequotes #alonetime #solo #solitude #introspection #healing #selfcare #selfhealing #theideasmithy #mood #sunset #sunsetbeach #beachsunset #beachsunsets #alone #meditation #emotion #emotional

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Alone time doesn’t always look like this. More often than not, it’s faded, crumpled, tattered even. And not in artful, Instagram-worthy ways. But it’s important.

We need tough love and the people who give it to us, especially if you, like me, find it hard to keep your head on straight in the throes of powerful emotion. People like us, we also need the gentle balm of those who tell us, it’s okay to grieve, that it’s fine to be sad even if it’s not logical, to ache even if we were forewarned, even if we should have known better.

And finally we need to meet ourselves, in our rawest forms. It doesn’t have to happen immediately. Me, I have an inbuilt safety valve that lets me tuck away my messiest self deep down till I reach a time and place that I can take it out and face it, safely. And that must happen. A time when no other commitment or duty or person must intrude. Nothing else allowed to be more important than your own feelings which must be faced with no voices of the world interfering.

And that is the time when you’ll realise the ugliness is not you or in you. All you are, is a witness to the world and occasionally, a reflection of it. Reflections pass. You will, too. Watch it alone.

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If you liked this post, you’ll want to follow the Facebook Page and the Youtube channel. I’m Ramya Pandyan (a.k.a. Ideasmith) and I’m on Twitter and Instagram.

 

Perspective

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If you liked this post, you’ll want to follow the Facebook Page and the Youtube channel. I’m Ramya Pandyan (a.k.a. Ideasmith) and I’m on Twitter and Instagram.

 

The View Changes Everyday

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If you liked this post, you’ll want to follow the Facebook Page and the Youtube channel. I’m Ramya Pandyan (a.k.a. Ideasmith) and I’m on Twitter and Instagram.

 

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