Of Peer Pressure and More...

Quite certain, it's my privilege, but for the best part of my life, I have been carefree. There was no mental pressure to excel in life and to date, I am the last person you'd meet who's ambitious. For me, it was always 'doing what you like/love' over making money. I never craved for fancy outings or getaways, nor did I dream of collecting luxury brands. For me, all that mattered was good experiences and utility. In short, I was never made to 'impress' people. 

I think I acquired this from my parents. The only time I have seen my father splurge (since he was the only earning member of the family) was on food. Even then, there was no memories of going to fancy restaurants or trying expensive cuisines. The luxury I got to experience was a monthly biriyani. Even my mother never was into showing off (my father sometimes did) they both were content and grateful for the things they had and passed that on to me and my sibling. This is, despite being able to afford things - they chose not to, cuz only utility matters. 

But now, when I am 35+, it has slowly started hitting me. That I am an underachiever, if not a failure. All thanks to social media 🫠 On LinkedIn, everyone's an entrepreneur, on Instagram they are 'wanderlust', on Facebook, they are buying houses and cars and what not. And here I am, begging my clients to pay me for the work I have done. 😑

To be honest and fair, I don't regret any of my past experiences, but I do wish I did things differently. Instead of jumping from one job to another, doing odd random things with no focus on what they can do to me career in the future, I wish I had a career goal. I wish I knew life better. I wish I had friends who helped me focus and grow. But at the same time, I also know that everyone has their own pace. 

I still am not very ambitious, but I am learning to spend wisely, and understand the basics of investments. Which I should have explored a decade ago 🫢

Anyway, I am still in a happy place eventhough life has changed. But I am content, wherever I am. The only thing I want to tell strugglers is just one thing - have focus. Everything else will fall in place. 

Setting Boundaries

Growing up, among many other things, I have always fumbled in identifying and setting boundaries. I wouldn't accept a NO, even for trivial things, instead I'd go all defensive and 'rebellious'. These aren't about things that require consent, but things like parents saying no to watching TV or some snack. 

These constant NOs eventually made me feel that nobody understands me or is really there for me, so I chose to be the all-giving, always available person for others. You know, the "be the love you never received" in the wrong context. I'd go out of my way for people I love and care, or those whose attention I craved for. I thought being that "giver" would make me "wanted". It took me 35 years to understand that this is actually toxic and I am not helping myself in anyway, and only doing much harm to my holistic growth.  

So now, even without much effort, I have set boundaries. Interestingly, this has happened after realising that I have nobody to rely on but myself, thanks to some disheartening incidents. Today, I am my priority, eventhough I sometimes feel I am overdoing it. Earlier, I would actually sit and spend time on who to follow up 😅 but now, it skips my mind eventhough someone needs attention. Because, my entire focus is on my routine, and setting my life right. 

But, that doesn't mean I am unavailable for people. I am, but I am not constantly following up, but show up when required. I am slowly realising that this is also not exactly the way to go about, but I am hoping, eventually I will find a balance in maintaining my life along with being available for people that value me. 

Well, yes, only for people who value me. Noone else. 

My Teaching Journey

I have been contemplating my career choices and thinking of doing something else, and content writing has a huge chance of being taken over by AI completely and my imposter syndrome kicks in every now and then, so it doesn't help me at all. 

So, I started applying for random jobs which I feel I could do, utilise my experience, including proofreading, content editing, and and and Teaching. Lol.

Well, yeah, it's indeed laugh worthy, because of all the people and all the things, I never wanted to teach. I applied anyway, and wanted to try my hands in teaching as well. Because the last time I did (home tuition for one of my neighbors) I realised I am patient enough and have the skills to teach. 

And eventually. I bagged a teaching job. Spoken English Trainer. Another LOL. Because my imposter syndrome also makes me panic and stutter most of the time I have to speak in English. 

Anyway, I started my sessions, and my first student made me feel this is worth it. A 60+ year old man, who is an illiterate, but is quite charged and determined to learn. He gave me a gist of his life and how he wanted to get a 10th grade certificate and study further. He also wanted to learn English speaking so that he could handle his business in a better way. He is a good learner too!

Honestly, it's difficult, because my teaching experience isn't great, and it's hard to make him learn since cannot read or write. But he is trying. And I am helping him while I could. 

So yeah. That's it. I just wanted to write about how heartwarming it was to find him sit across me and trying to learn. Which indeed reminded me of my father's determination as well. 

I don't know how long I will do this job, coz I am not very passionate about it (yet) but I am waiting for such little moments of happiness this could bring. 

Okbye. 

When Peer Pressure Makes You Feel Like A Failure

For the most part of my life, I was least bothered about what people think, or how I should be, to appease the society. I didn't bother about my looks, or the way I dressed - I used to have a very limited wardrobe and repeating clothes was least of my concerns. I have even worn slightly torn, shabby clothes and have even looked like a beggar, but it didn't matter to me. All that mattered was my happiness. Until I entered the mighty 30s and social media subconsciously made me compare my worth with others' achievements. 

I started working when I was 22, right after college. It was a content writer job, with decent pay and I was happy. I stuck to that career, through freelancing, even when I did random jobs. I never had any career goal or finance goal, and I think I was also surrounded by people who were equally struggling like me. So it didn't even matter. I was enjoying my life and that's all that I wanted. 

But today, all those who struggled with me are doing well in life. All my friends are well settled, earning in millions, if not billions... And here I am, still that struggler. When they talk about their achievements - both materialistic and otherwise, I feel left out. Like the odd, rotten apple. I feel terrible. I question my decisions and choices in the past. I have started becoming conscious of things, and feel like a failure. 

I admit, I am sometime jealous of people, and feel inferior, which might have contributed to me choosing to be a full-blown homebody. But I am not necessarily bitter. I am only bitter towards people I don't like :D

Anyway, I spoke to my mom about how I feel like a failure. And she gave me all the validation I wasn't even looking for. She mentioned that I was financially independent, ignoring the obvious privileges. But, I can't tell you how relieved I am. I think that's all I wanted, even though unexpected - the validation, that I am not a failure, afterall. 

So, I guess, it's time to change the narrative. And look at myself differently. The truth is, despite these thoughts, I am, in general, extremely happy and peaceful in life. So, may be, I should focus on just that - the good things, the achievements, the positives. 

So yeah. That's that. 

Why I Am A Feminist

Growing up, I was this typical tom-boy, not by physical appearance, but traits. Again, not exactly at school, but most certainly in college. I was closer to boys and lurked around the all-boys department - mechanical engineering. I'd tease girls with boys and had also participated in mild, harmless ragging with them. I felt it was quite cool to be that guys' girl. 

I found women 'dramatic', unreliable and quite sensitive without really understanding I was all that too. I tried to suppress my feelings because you know, I don't want to be a mood killer. I wasn't really a pick-me girl, not a people-pleaser, but I found dissing women, and talking and behaving like boys quite cool. Any girl who spoke about feminism was 'overreacting' 'pseudo-feminists'.

I don't know when all that changed for me. I don't really have had a life altering experience from men to change my perspective to be honest, but I think internet and reading helped. Eventhough not voluntarily, I started reading stories of women, the unfair treatment in the society and the sufferings - not really books, but mostly anecdotes on social media platforms. Befriending a few strong, no-nonsense women also helped in understanding the other side of female friendships. 

Eventually, things changed. The male-female ratio of friends in my life altered without me knowing. I found it more peaceful to confide in women - they won't put you down or pass a sarcastic comment while you share your trauma, for instance. I started understanding the power of sisterhood and what it can do to you and the society in general. My perspectives totally changed. It pricked and pained when I read a #MeToo story each time they appeared on my screen. Some were devastating. 

I started relating myself to women more. Once, I was a staunch supporter of Deepika Bharadwaj. Today, I find her the most vile woman - someone who is trying to shame entire womanhood by placing stories of certain men. Ofcourse, their problems also matter, and feminism ideally is about equality afterall, but if you look at the ratio of sufferings of women since time immemorial - well, that's a discussion for another day. 

Anyway, now I can also relate to all those "pseudo feminists" I hated once. When a woman and a man tells me the same story, I tend to believe the woman first. I have also started appearing to be 'irrational' to certain people. That's when I realised, I have totally become a feminist!

Today, I know the real meaning of feminism, the cause and everything related to it. I proudly call myself a feminist and can only be friends with people who atleast try to understand what it is. 

I am a proud feminist, and I will always be. 

Kochu Kochu Santhoshangal!

So, in the previous blog, I had mentioned that my father is a patriarch. Well, I won't blame him entirely for that. I mean, I don't think it is fair to judge a 70+ year old man holding on to certain ideologies in a society where it is the norm. In his book, man is the provider, woman, homemaker. However, even being a strong patriarch back in the day, he didn't consider us (my sister and I) as burdens, gave us the best of education and everything that was possible. He also taught us to value money and stay grounded, and even when we get married, he assured us that, if things go wrong, he was there for us. Ofcourse, his ideologies and mine didn't match in various matters - one of the main reasons why we would end up arguing.

He was also a very short tempered man, I used to dread going near him as a child, because I didn't want to get beaten up for trivial things.

But over the years, I have noticed that he stays calm when he isn't occupied. A

So, basically, his job was keeping him stressed, and he would throw tantrums at everyone around him. That gave me the idea on how to deal with him. 

Also, I learnt to accept my parents the way they are. Only trying to change them by imparting knowledge calmly, without arguments. This trick worked! By then I started working on myself too, with mindfulness and therapy, so that I could control my emotions as well. That also worked in our favour! 

And one last thing, that kid in the neighbourhood, also brought the grandfatherly affection in my father, making him less angry, more cheerful. 

Today, I can make jokes on my father, call him "kelava" as and when I like, and talk to him peacefully. We share a beautiful bond now and things are so much better. Our relationship is getting better each day and I am so grateful to the universe. 

And I wish and hope this stays, forever. Touchwood. ♾️

Be A Rebel!

I just saw a tweet on Twitter aka X, by a 20 year old girl, where she says, she still has to take permission before stepping out of her house, even after considering herself and independent woman. Another 30 yo seconded this! This made me ponder... What about me?

Honestly, my parents never agree to any of my plans. Even today! When I am 37! But, the only difference is, their 'permission' does not matter to me, they know it too, and I achieved this position only because I stayed a rebel all through my younger days. 

I come from a typical South Indian middle class famil, where women are considered inferior to men. My father is a patriarch, and is respected by everyone we know. And as a child, I used to dread him, for his short temper. However, I had also maintained that little brat image, which continued even during adolescence. 

Once I got puberty, my father because even stricter, restricting me for various things. I have never had a sleep over at a friend's or a movie night with family. Everything needed permission and he would always say no. And to be honest, I wasn't even accustomed to that kind of a culture, so I obliged. On top of that, I was obviously financially dependent on my parents. 

But, during college days, I started thinking differently. I befriended boys, I started hanging out with them, so on and so forth. My rebellious nature grew multifold and my temper hit the roof. Because, for me, all of that was quite normal! So, eventually, I stopped asking permission. I chose informing my parents that I'd be stepping out, and even when they said no, I'd just take the scooty and leave. 

This led to many fights and arguments and home was never a happy place. I just wanted to escape this mess, and I did, after college. But, whenever I am home, I continued being the person I always used to be. 

Cut to 2024. My parents have eventually changed. Thanks to them understanding that women aren't inferior afterall, and I want to take credit for getting that idea into their heads. They still say no to some of my plans, which is mostly solo trips, everything else is sorted now. 😅 I just make plans and tell them before leaving, and also give them a heads up about when I'd be home. Late nights are still a no-no, but I think I can live without it. 

So yeah, took me more than a decade to reach here, but ultimately, all of us are at peace now. We get what we want. And everyone is happy. The end. Hahaha

How Touchy are You?

Well, I don't know about you, but I sure am, but only on certain things. 

For instance, let me be very honest. I am very insecure about my writing skills. I mean, back in school, or even in college, I never showed inclination to writing or reading for that matter, didn't even try! But, here I am, earning my bread through writing!

I think I had mentioned earlier too, I started writing for the sake of it. But, a few of my friends said I write really well, and I totally believed them and started writing over and over again. It never occured to me that it was all amateurish. Until I received a very mean comment (anonymous) under one of my blogs. 

The comment got flagged by Google for some unknown reason, but unfortunately I got it as email. I read the whole thing and the gist of it was that I am a bad writer and I should quit this gimmick. I was shattered. It made me go back and read all my previous blogs and wonder what went wrong. I just couldn't bring myself again to write, and that comment lingered with me and haunted me... Well, haunts me to this day... That it started affecting my work. 

Everytime I get a new client (I am a content/copy writer) and they share their expectations, I panic. I start believing that I can never do it, and eventually end up dropping the project!

Oh, I forgot to mention that eventhough the comment was posted anonymously, I knew who was behind it and I confronted that person. They said they were just pulling my leg. Little did they know how affected I was. I confronted them recently as well, they apologised, but the damage is already done. 

I am so underconfident, I just cannot pitch for new projects. And the worst, I live with the fear of losing existing projects sooner. It's a touch life. Lol

But looking back, I'd like to appreciate that 22 year old's efforts to be seen. And this 37 yo's efforts to atleast TRY. 

All I want to say is, let's all try to be kind. These days, things are so bad, thanks to social media, cyber bullying has hit the roof. I think we should learn to ignore and move on, rather than bullying people for the sake of few laughs? I sure laugh at other people's expense when I see delusional people on the internet, sure, I share them with my friends to laugh too, but that's that! Commenting mean things is going to affect people, man! Let's don't be assholes. 

Chicken Fried Rice

As a child, even though I have been a foodie, my exposure to various cuisines were limited. We ate mostly home-cooked meals and my father would buy food from restaurants once in a while, and that would either be Biriyani or Porotta chicken. Nothing else. We also ate out very rarely, not because my parents couldn't afford it, but, my father didn't encourage eating out. 

Things are different now, we have plenty of restaurants and cafes around, and could order in, thanks to online delivery apps. Anyway, that's not what this blog is about. 

I was thinking of the time when I first had fried rice in my life - ofcourse, the Indo-Chinese one and it was indeed a funny story. 

I think I would have been in 7th grade and my classmates and I were discussing what we did during that vacation. For me, it would have been, as always, a 2-3 days stay at my maternal Grandma's place and nothing else, so had little to share, but other girls (it was a convent school) had too many stories to share. And one girl mentioned about going for a movie or something and her father buying her "Chicken Fried Rice" after. I was intrigued. 

What's chicken fried rice, I ask. Something very tasty, she responds. 

Do you fry your rice, like chicken fry? I ask again. 

No, it's not fried in that sense, she answers. 

So, wouldn't it be dry? What would you have it with? I ask again.

You pair it with chilly chicken, she responds. 

What if I want a veg fried rice? I am still intrigued.

Never tried, but may be, you serve it with Sambar, she ponders. 

So that day, upon reaching home, I ask my father to buy me chicken fried rice. My father, oblivious of what that thing is, rejects the idea...

I throw tantrums. And my father finally gave in. Since it was a bit of a task to convince, I never mention the chilly chicken. 

Next day for lunch, he buys fried rice for all of us. 

You can imagine a 12 yo's excitement right? 

I put one whole fried rice onto my plate and take a bite. I spit it out. It certainly was the worst thing I had put into my mouth until that day. And I didn't touch it again. My father was furious. I blamed him for buying something that's not fried rice. 

To be honest, until, probably last year, I wouldn't dare buy chicken or mixed fried rice even when I could buy it myself. I would always buy veg fried rice along with some meat side dish, that's how I enjoyed a fried rice. 

Now, I am finally accustomed to that taste, but I still remember the disappointment my entire family had when we are fried rice for the first time. 

Same story goes with Maggi. My cousins and I fought our parents to get us maggi and when they did, we hated it. All of us. :)

So yeah, that's that. 

A Thousand Splendid Suns - My Thoughts

 I just finished reading Khaled Hosseini's 'A Thousand Splendid Suns' and wanted to jot down something that I felt.

I had loved his 'Kite Runner' even though it broke my heart. So, I picked this one excepting nothing another heart break. And I was write. Since the protagonists are women, there is more to feel for, more to get disappointed, more to well up. In fact, every time I feel it would get better, it gets worse instead! 

However, the novel ends with a lighter note, it made me ponder about the lives of people in Afghanistan. I mean, have they really experienced peace and security in their lives? Especially women! When this novel was written, Afghan was getting restored to some extent and people expected peace to prevail but years later, Taliban took over all over again, leading to another disastrous outcome. Especially for women. My heart bleeds for them. 

I also think about the world in general, if not my own country. No matter how much we consider ourselves and a safe, democratic, anything can happen anyday. 

I don't want to really put down those thoughts out here, so yeah. That's that. 

I am also thinking of Palestine at this moment. 🍉