Tag Archives: Fear

Judgements In June

Judgements. Let’s think about that.

Last month a stranger told me that their first impression of me was that I was an attention-seeker. I’ve analyzed this statement in so many ways. What’s wrong with liking attention and seeking it? How do we assign very different judgements to the same conclusion? Why is your first thought of a stranger, the most uncharitable view that you can take about them? What does it say about you when you react to the unknown with a negative view?

I pondered why I was thinking so deeply about a stranger’s words. Because they pricked. Even as I’m unapologetic in my art, my words and dressing, I know that a lot of people consider ‘attention-seeker’ an insult. For a stranger to assign one of the worst labels they could think of to me, when they didn’t even know me – feels like unprovoked malice. Why, why would you want to hurt me when I didn’t do anything to you? Except exist, that is.

They said, they had read my blogs later and decided that I deserved the right to do what I liked with my body and my life. But shouldn’t that be any person’s right, regardless of their backstory? Do my past traumas serve as tickets to your empathy? Why are we so stingy in our willingness to treat other human beings as deserving of kindness, empathy and warmth?

In the same conversation, I said,

We are all looking for our own stories. Judgement is really a fear that our stories are not what we’d like them to be.

And as soon as I said it, I knew it was true. Nice, hmm? 🙂 Yes, that happens to writers sometimes. We realise the truth as we voice it. Maybe that’s why compliments makes us feel like frauds – because I don’t know any better than you where that thought came from but it just happened to enter the universe through my words.

Maybe human beings don’t really judge because actual judgement is an objective analysis and does not change based on who you are and how you are feeling. Maybe human beings react with fear and call it judgement. And how can you feel anything but empathy for someone who is too scared to empathize back?

 

This is not new. But it is a fresh look at a bleak world. Stay kind, always. It may be the only hope someone else has. And someday, that someone may be you. The last time I was where I went today, someone saw my patterned lips and decided to think the very worst of me. Judgement is cold, cruel and reduces someone's personhood. They told me about this opinion much later, after learning about my life and deciding that I deserved to do as I liked. I think a person's backstory should not matter. Kindness is universal, 24 x 7 and free. If you cannot be kind in your mind to a person, do not let them occupy space in your mind at all. It's really better that way, for you and for the world. Keep the stories in your head cruelty-free. This is a #NyxAmethyst heart painted on freestyle atop #FacesCanada Addicted. The eyes are #Colorbar Amethyst Spark with #LakmeAbsolute ShineLine and some #L'Oréal SilverSpice for highlights. The speckled peace of mind is my own. #peace #mentalhealth #crueltyfree #kindness #empathy #beauty #style #fashion #makeup #makeupblogger #lips #lipart #lipstick #IWear #ILip

A post shared by Ramya Pandyan (@ideasmithy) on

The news of Anthony Bourdain’s death has triggered off a waterfall of statements about mental illness, about suicide, about depression and more. I’m trying to stay away from it all because it’s so triggering, the thought that some of the same people mouthing these words are so cruel, so vicious and so thoughtless otherwise. It shouldn’t take a death to remind you to be human and if it does, I’d like to think that the reminder lasts longer than a few days. But perhaps that’s just the way my tired mind is working these days so I’m best kept away from the breaking news analysis.

I am no mental health professional or even activist. But I think we would all benefit from being just a little kinder in our minds. This doesn’t mean big, flamboyant gestures. It doesn’t have to be about massive charities or over generous contributions or zealous activism. It just means be a little slower to judging other people. It’s actually a better way to live too. Being kind is an act of generosity. You can only feel generous when you feel abundant. And you must feel abundant in order to be abundant.

I just thought I’d share that. June begins on a more hopeful note, which is odd for me since I don’t like monsoon (triggered allergies mean three months of labored breathing). Still, it’s the half year mark, it’s a month to my birthday, it’s the season of hope for our agricultural economy so in all things, it is about looking up. I hope you’re doing okay, I hope the world will be kind to you and I hope you’ll remember to be the same.

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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.

Lunarspeak

Have you  missed my micropoetry-with-pictures? I certainly have missed creating them too.

I quit the YourQuote app (on which I’ve been doing the picture-poems) last month. Late 2017, I quit a job I’d had for over two years. Neither of these partings were respectful and it saddened me at the time that the people concerned did not accord these relationships the dignity that I thought they deserved.

But now I think things worked out for the better. One idea I explored last year was forsaking my ‘flinch reactions‘. It was an interesting experiment in self-discovery. I have come to realise that taking action when it needs to be taken, timely action, decisive action is something that works for me. Regret and fear cripple me far worse than the consequences of any bad decision I’ve ever taken has. In both the above cases, I was astounded at how relieved I felt when they ended. I don’t like that feeling. It feels weak, passive and quite unlike me. I’m usually good at moving when it is time to move forward.

But having closed those chapters, I found time and mindspace to dwell on ideas and parts of me that I really am. This has resulted in a lot of interesting work and writing. Because I’m doing these from love and passion and not fearful submission.

I found one of my old favorite apps a perfect choice to create these picture-stories, this time without the crutches of pre-defined templates or a big logo in a corner. So as and when I turn out something, it’ll come up here. Here’s one, a message from a moon-child.

 

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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 Music Of An Ex

Your voice still terrifies me. If anger were energy, you’re a nuclear reactor. But I only saw the gravity, I only heard the pain, I only felt your fear. And inside your head, for you, I became everything I could see. No wonder you hate me.

Now, every now and then, I listen to you, I watch you from afar. And what’s visible now is enough to scare me away. The trouble is memory is so weak at repelling. The minute I’m beyond the bounds of remembering, I come back to listen, to hear, to watch and to fear.

You wear the face of the unfamiliar, the strange, the uncomfortable. But your anger is known, like a well-remembered accident, a bone that never really healed and aches up every time it rains. It’s only ever raining when I think of you.

The scars on my arms have healed. And the lines on my face turned to pretty poetry, gritty poetry. But in the murky whirlpool of emotion, you still linger. How do you paper plane music? Because, yes, you were right, it is music.

Inertia

Inertia
…is what keeps us stuck in dead-end jobs, watching other people build grand stories of their lives.

It’s what makes it so hard to get out of bed, even when you can see it’s lovely weather outside and it’s a weekend.

It’s what keeps you from falling asleep even when you know tomorrow is a big day and you can’t afford to be even the teensiest bit tired.

It’s what’s keeping me all dressed up, work complete, staring at the grey-free sky (after a week)…from indoors.

Tiny Tales: The Day You Should Have Stayed In Bed

The day stretches on like a chewing gum that’s lost its flavour a long time ago. Yet, you won’t spit it out. Maybe you’ll swallow it and feel a twinge of guilt as you remember your biology teacher telling you that it’ll stick to the inside of your stomach and ruin your digestion. Memories of school always depress you. How can anyone call them ‘the best years of their lives’? Such horrible lives those people must have now. They must be lying. All you remember of school is sarcastic teachers, leering bullies and the breath-choking fear that a single red mark can produce.

It’s a hot day, the kind you’ve missed the past two months, feeling awkwardly guilty about it since the whole world is waxing eloquent about how nice it is to have winter in this city for a change. But all it makes you want to do is close your eyes and go back to sleep. If only the blanket didn’t feel so prickly. The delicious comfort of the woolen blanket is gone with January. Now you feel slightly disloyal to summer.

With massive effort, the kind that no one else could possibly understand or appreciate, you heave out of bed and brush your teeth. You remember to water the plants, trying hard to smile at the fact that the basil leaves planted a week ago are finally taking root. But as you move away from the window, your smile drops like actors must drop their costumes the minute they’re off-camera. In the brooding non-thinking that follows, you manage to tidy up the room, make the bed and run a load of wash. Enthused by the thought that maybe that was just waking up grumpiness that ailed you and that activity will make you feel better, you run a second round of wash on the cotton sheets. Time to clean them and get them ready for summer. Yeah Yeah! Yeah! The washing machine rings and gets running and shows that it’ll take 67 minutes for the ‘Blanket’ cycle of the wash. *Sigh*

Twelve minutes are successfully wasted checking email, messages and comments. When the phone rings, it’s forty minutes over already. And you’re trolling weird articles on random sites, feeling shittier at the thought of the scumbags who share the online world – and the offline – with you. The phone is jumping up at you, admonishing you for your useless, wasted little life. You stare at it, defiance being all that you have the energy for. And you hit ‘Silence’ vindictively. But the flashing light even on the muted phone gives you no sense of real satisfaction.

Satisfaction, that’s an elusive concept. Do you even remember what that felt like? You must have been satisfied once. You must have been happy once. You’re usually a happy person. That’s how the world knows you. And does it?

You’re all alone in the white-yellow brightness, in the throbbing aliveness of summer. Then the doorbell rings and you know you’re not. You’ll never be alone just when you want to be left alone. Enough already. Defiance deepens to something else. The heat behind your eyelids is sinking down into your breath. And suddenly you remember how to turn that into energy. You could be a poster-child for both, Freud and Einstein.

The doorbell is still ringing, the sounds getting closer. You imagine the doorbell getting pushed…the finger that pushes it…jabs it…RING….RING…RRRRIIINNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGG.

That’s the last thing you remember.

“No more questions, milord.”

This post also appears on Social Mantra.

At A Loss For Words

What do you call a couple of conversationalists who’re afraid to speak?

“Lost in translation.”

I grieve for the words we’ve lost.

Reverb 10.17: The Inner School Of Life

Another Reverb10 prompt that I’m not really feeling. Maybe there are just too many of them crammed into a month and too similar to each other. It’s boring to keep writing about the same thing in different words.

December 17 – Lesson Learned

What was the best thing you learned about yourself this past year? And how will you apply that lesson going forward?

(Author: Tara Weaver)

It has been a year (and more) of learning. I don’t mean that in an ‘every minute we live, we learn’ way. It’s actually like I enrolled in the School of Life, taking Remedial lessons for having missed out on all the great stuff in the past decade.

The learning comes not from experiences, but from reflecting on them. And things continue to happen at such a rapidfire rate, I’m still making sense of them. What I feel I’ve ‘learnt’ now comes from stuff that happened months, even years ago.

I’ve learnt that the person I was a decade ago was a much better one than the woman I worked so hard to turn into in these past ten years. Stronger, nicer, warmer, more alive and definitely better. I’ve learnt that that girl hasn’t vanished completely. Most of all, I’ve learnt that I can’t go back to being seventeen and neither can I realistically wipe out the 10-odd years that came after. But I’m learning that I can build a new me with the best of both people since they both were, essentially me. The joy and wonder and warmth of the teenage me with the confidence and stability and independence of the adult me. I guess all the lessons I’m learning have to do with that larger idea.

How I’m choosing to apply it is to not be apologetic or sorry about who I am. There’s stuff I do and think and feel that isn’t cool or convenient or mature or expected. It doesn’t ‘fit’ with my image. But those make me, me, much more than the approval and admiration of everyone else. I’m choosing to hold on to my phobias, my fears, my unique idiosyncrasies even if everyone else in the world thinks they belong in the last century. They’re mine to nurture or work through at will.

Reverb 10.11: What I Don’t Need In 2011 (And How I’m Avoiding Them)

A list! I love lists! And that’s only the first reason why this Reverb 10 prompt has me singing.

December 11: 11 Things

What are 11 things your life doesn’t need in 2011? How will you go about eliminating them? How will getting rid of these 11 things change your life?

(Author: Sam Davidson)

Fooo…..yes, I was all enthusiastic and eager and ecstatic (and other good-sounding ‘E’ words) at the thought of a list. But having discovered the list is (again!) about things that one has to bid goodbye to, my E stuff feels D’ed (dampened, defeated, disgusted, demeaned, disillusioned, devastated…).

11 Things My Life Does Not Need in 2011 (why not and how I plan to get rid of them):

1. Writer’s block:

I’ve faced this enough of times in the past year and can testify to it being the vilest, most horrible, uncomfortable, lonely, sickening feeling ever. It’s like being constipated for days on end and watching everyone else eat sumptuous tasty meals. It’s like being pregnant for eighteen months, watching your belly bloat to alarming proportions and wondering if the only way out will be for you to burst. *Shudder* Never, ever again, please.

I don’t really have a plan to get rid of the possibility of this but I guess I can keep my proverbial medical kit handy. Good friends, other career options and enough of distractions to tide me over till it passes.

2. Financial worries:

I’ve never been poor. But there have been times when money has felt a little stretched. Add a generous dose of good South-Indian girl guilt to that. That’s when if the outgoing includes items that are not mind-enhancing and matrimonial-prospect-inducing, they’re considered wasteful. Incoming has got to be a steady, predictable flow, no windfalls-followed-by-empty-periods for this one.

Considering I’ve chucked up a sensible, respectable career for a newfangled, alien venture like writing, am well past my sell-by (as prescribed by the Southern powers-that-be) date and show no signs of making up for it, pressure is high. Much of this of course, is self-induced which is the beauty of any childhood-implanted guilt. The recording plays on inside your head, long after the originators of the voices have fallen silent. Anyway, I really do not need the cringing self-doubt of dwindling savings with no albeit tiny-but-definitely-incoming money flow in sight. I don’t believe I have the nerve to go through with being footloose and income-free for very long. Which just means, I’ll run back to the safety and uninspiring boredom of a respectable job, again. And that’s the end of my writing career, my dreams and my self-worth.

How I plan to keep this wolf at bay is by thinking ahead and keeping open to income-generating options. Naturally, I have my pride and conscience and I don’t intend to resort to get-rich quick schemes. But I have chalked up a number of things that I can do and do well. There’s writing of course (all kinds) and also number-crunching, business analysis and a number of other things I’m still discovering. It’s still a tricky thing for me, marketing them in a way that doesn’t sound like I’m full of myself. But very simply, these are retailable skills. Money earned for work done is a simple enough mantra. And fingers crossed that there will be enough of takers for what I’m selling.

3. Emotional distance

One of the first things that I decided I wanted to do, when I quit last year, was to go back to being the person I was a decade ago. Starry-eyed, idealistic, passionate, uncontrollably alive. Also unfashionable, socially outcast and totally uncool. But I wanted that and I wanted it all, no exclusions.

A big revelation happened over the course of the year (through the novel and many wine-soaked conversations with E Vestigio and long distance phone calls with P, L and others). I cut out sarcasm. Then I whittled away at cynicism. I chipped off bitterness. And I’m gnawing away at polite behaviour.

The results are that I’m exploding more than once. I’m often caught at a loss for words or saying the most horribly inappropriate things at the wrong times. But I feel so very alive! The sense of being weighed down is going. Even though I’m actually a few kilos heavier than when I had a rigourous daily schedule, I feel lighter.

I’m not completely there yet but I intend to keep at it. Emotional distance from people and experiences is what I thought kept me sane. But it also kept me stifled, tiny and mostly dead. I’m letting go. Be warned, much madness up ahead but it’ll all be authentic, 100% me.

4. Poor health

Rheumatism. Spondilitis. Diabetes. All things that doctors have been threatening, are creeping up on me.

Malaria. Gastroentitis. Low blood pressure. Vitamin D deficiency. Weak bones. All things that have already made their presence felt in my life.

I was always a skinny kid but also a bundle of energy and I recuperated quickly. The most ironic thing about my health in the past decade was discovering that I was overstressed and vitamin-D deficient. On asking what I could do to get better, I was told to work less and play more!

That seems like wonderful advice to follow (even doctors say nice things sometimes). So I intend to worry less, laugh a lot more, eat well, run around like crazy in the sun – and hopefully live not just longer but better.

5. Unhealthy weight gain

As mentioned above, I was a skinny kid and I grew up into a lean adult. But shortly after I quit my job, I discovered that I was alarmingly fleshy for my snugfit jeans. I ended up getting a new wardrobe (of dresses and skirts) but that niggling belief that I was bloating hasn’t left. Of course I’m duly grateful that it’s only a little weight, that actually does look good on me. But I’m alarmed by the idea that it could just inflate (pun intended) out of control. What’s more, I really don’t want to add cholesterol, heart disease and other things to the repertoire I’ve listed above.

What I plan to do about this, has actually already been set in action. I signed up for yoga six months ago and did follow the regime for a good while. But the schedule didn’t suit me and I fell off the bandwagon. Mercifully for me, I also started swimming, an activity that brings me even more pleasure than health benefits. The weather has gotten a little too chilly to enjoy the swim much but I still managed to get into the pool 4 days last week and complete around 15 or more laps before shivering my way back to the changing room. Maybe I’ll sign up for a dance class too.

Persistence and patience are my friends and I don’t intend to let those sneaky kilos get the better of me.

6. Boredom

The killer of all things creative, happy and joyful, who would be scareder of boredom, than a storyteller (an entertainer)? Thankfully for me, the world is a treasure trove of interesting things and people and experiences.

I’m not going to deaden this by putting a schedule on it. Suffice to say that when something occurs to me, I explore it. A new hobby? An interesting person? A novel idea? I’m a sleuth for interesting experiences and each one I pick up only leads to bigger and greater delights.

7. Control

This is the other card in the evil side’s deck, supporting the first card of boredom. Control by family, by employers, by social norms, by stereotypes. It kills the spirit, it kills my soul and it damages my creativity.

I don’t have a plan to avoid every instance of being controlled by another person or entity. But when I do face one of them, I intend to stand my ground and not cave. Enough died, already.

8. Other people’s problems

Egos. Insecurities. Complexes. Weaknesses. Negative sentiments. I’ve had a strange affinity for all of these from other people. That, coupled with the ability to absorb and expand on all, I feel like I’ve been quite a bundle of other people’s nerves.

It’s rather tricky detaching oneself from these things without imposing emotional distance from them. I don’t get it most of the time. What’s more, standing up for myself has never come easy (no matter what the image may dictate).

No plan on this one either. Just the will to oppose it and hope that practice will make perfect.

9. High bills on clothes, makeup and socializing

This I really, really don’t need. I am no shopaholic but after a decade of denial, I decided to indulge. Now I think, enough of self-pampering and now for some balanced restraint.

This is the other aspect of keeping away financial worries – curbing the unnecessary outgoing along with building the possible incoming. I don’t really have to have expensive shoes that only last a month. Mumbai roads make dust of everything and none of the big shops guarantee any quality on this terrain. High-voltage partying has never been my scene and mercifully the social circle I move around in, doesn’t really cotton to it either. Mostly I am now okay with saying that I can’t afford it and so I won’t. Out with the fabulous lifestyle, in with some peace of mind.

10. Goodbyes to people I’m close to

This is more a fearful wish than an intelligent item on the planning list. Six months of 2010 were spent in trying to cope with saying goodbye to good friends, to notions of loyalty, to dreams of greatness. I know I learn from each of these experiences. But I’ve had a rough, really rough enough ride of it. I’m not sure I’m ready for another dose, just yet.

I can’t think of anything to put under 11 so this is going to be a list of 10. That’s my bit for letting go of control (even my own OCDness)!

Gentleman

I run with my words
Racing my thoughts
Getting ahead of my emotions
Because I’m scared you’ll turn away before I’m done

But then I pause
To catch my breath
And realise you’re still listening
And also that I’ve forgotten what I was saying

Then you hold me close
In a way I’ve never known
But, which makes me forget
How life was before it began

When, at length,
We move apart,
You look just as you always do
Gruff and gentle

You consider my frantic
“What? What? What?”s
And tell me I have a lot of fears, many I need not,
And then you hug me again

I giggle and thank you
When you ask, “For what?”
I reply, “For being the man in gentleman”
“Also the gentle in gentleman”, I add afterthought

You feel like home. You feel like mine. My very own. Home.

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