Waiting, for the world to see

Its a pretty just another day, I am scrolling down my facebook feed. I am irritated. Why? The entire feed is bursting with "Hey, look at me" posts. There are the

- look-how-happy-i-am-with-my-bestie,

- oh-i-love-politics,

- look-i-answer-on-quora-i-am-such-a-genius,

- whaaat-you-didnt-watch-this-movie-yet,

- check-out-this-link-i-am-so-updated-with-technology,

- omg-this-party-was-awesome,

- i-share-memes-with-my-friends-i-am-cool

 and countless such posts waiting to be watched, judged and be jealous of.

It isn't really facebook's fault that made me feel so bad. That's how probably even I am. Waiting to show off the fun we encounter before we even dive into it. Waiting to so called share a status before even fully tasting the ice-cream. Waiting to shout in every living soul's ear, I live a life. It is all about the deception of looking perfect, the feeling of getting noticed, the pride of being talked about and the fear of being judged.

Eventually as I have come to comprehend, we fail to enjoy the little moments in life while we are busy painting the bigger picture. We limit our ourselves to the people who judge us. We cannot help thinking about other people - those who really love us unconditionally, without judging. Every action of ours is influenced by the after effects of the very typical - log kya sochenge.

Acharaya Sir, my physics teacher in Pace pointed out his observations in class one day. He gave us a sum to solve in the closed classroom and was himself looking out of the small glass window made on the main door. The peon who'd take care of the functioning of the lectures was almost dancing and hopping as he walked along the corridor. He was under the pretext that no one's watching. "We are ourselves only when we know no one is looking at us or judging who we are. We are free at our will, expressing our joys and sorrows in little actions like how we walk."

Poor little us. We forget expressing what we really feel while drowning in the fear of how we will be judged. If only we thought less of what people think of us!

And as a matter of irony. It is so challenging to be happy while being popular online! Consider the recent Alok Nath saga. He is so talked about, his pictures floating everywhere, etc. He didn't even do anything to instigate the meme-makers (For once, memes on political parties are still justified). This example may not cite what I exactly want to convey through this post but there is one thing we learn. Attention is dangerous too! :P

Anyway, the point is no matter who is watching, the decision of beingYou, being who you really are is in your hands. And that's just how I wanted my blog to be - beingRitika, who I am.

Worries of a Woman

I feel scared. Scared of those eyes.

They penetrate right into mine

Should I look away? Or should I stare back, pretending fearless?

For god's sake, take those shameless eyes off me.

What, now I cannot even wear knee length jeans?

Why do they make the decent piece of clothing look so disgusting?

Is it really my fault that I want to look beautiful

Or is it their filthy morals that should be blamed?

I hesitate. Unlike before.

Think hundred times before you take that stranger's help

He could be too good to be true.
Maa, is this what being independent meant?

How does it matter if I am his daughter's age

Or maybe a grand-daughter for some

Crime has no ethics, does it?
Old or young, all have the license to evil.

 Turn to the newspaper today. Now.
My bet : Every third item you read will be crime.
Not just crime, crime against women.
Rape. Harassment. Dowry. Acid. Femicide. 'Honor Killing'

Frightens me so that I be cautioned.
Makes me sit in the 'Reserved for Ladies' seat only.
Tells me that I need to reach home before 9.
Gives me enough reason to confuse restrictions with safety.

As I lay awake on my bed, there are things I never will forget
Those memories which instill fear in me,which weaken me
But think good, good will happen. So I try let it go
Like a computer, I press the delete button and wipe off those slimy memories.

After what seems like forever, sleep slowly creeps in
Yet those pictures revolve, revoking the fear in me
The silence of the dark is cut by the clock ticking loud
And the question haunts, Am I safe in my own house?

It happens only in India

Lately the series of 'Atithi Devo Bhava' ads have been on a roll across all TV channels. Amir Khan telling Indians what sort of a negative image do they portray by simple day to day activities.

Ever wondered what common people like us abroad think about when they first hear 'India'? Just like when I think America, I think of a typical day from the beloved American sitcoms we watch. When I think Australia, I am reminded of Masterchef Australia :P

Anyway, here are a few interesting (rather peculiar) reactions I got from people in Europe and South Africa when they first came to know I was from India:

• Grocery Store Owner near Eketragaten, Gothenburg
  My younger brother and I enter into this little grocery shop to be greeted by its Swedish owner. He promptly recognized our origin without us uttering a single word. He asks, "Do you watch Bollywood?"
  Dumbstruck, we say Of course yes!
  He starts addressing my brother as Shahrukh and calls himself Salman Khan. Furthermore, he tells us that he regularly watches our bollywood masala movies. He defines regular as once a week! (Wait what? Even I don't watch bollywood once a week!) His love for bollywood was mainly for the mindless songs that pop in out of nowhere and the dance steps we choreograph. He mentioned a few favorites here and there.
  While I was leaving the store, I casually asked him, "How well do you comprehend the dialogues?"
  He says, "Well I don't understand, I just watch them for that."

• Church Priest at Varvaderstorget, Gothenburg
  It can take me an entire blog post to describe this wonderful human being we met in our journey. The moment we enter the really tiny church, the Priest welcomed us with a warm smile. After learning of our Indian nationality, all he wanted to talk about was food! He wanted a pinch to digest the fact that some of us are vegetarians, have never tasted egg/chicken/pork or any other sort of meat.
  According to him, we survived on chocolates and salad only! :P
  We invited him on lunch thrice during our stay and finally he accepted that a vegan diet can be delicious too! He totally fell in love with our puris, parathas and laddoos ("really very sweet candies" as he would call them.)

• Random lady next door in JohannesburgSouth Africa, thanks to their British rule boasts of a large population of people from Indian origins. Their great grand parents were shipped to SA as slaves during the British rule. As a result, these people today consider themselves to be of Indian culture. Our next house neighbor was one such lady. For the first 10 minutes she went on and on about how much she appreciated the culture we hold. The festivals we celebrate, the rituals, the sanskaar we instill in our children, the superstitions etc. We were ecstatic to hear about her enthusiasm towards our culture.
  In the end when we were about to leave, she asked my mum why she wasn't wearing a bindi and pointed out to the red dot on her forehead instead! She wore it as a mark of having an attachment to our land, to our culture, truly mesmerizing.

• A fellow female passenger in the tram, Gothenburg
  The Swedish are really fond of their music. So much so that this passenger in the tram after finishing the detailed inquiry about us, she sang us a song in Swedish. Till date I never across that song again. She wasn't even ashamed singing aloud in front of the other passengers. In fact she sang it merrily and announced dedicating it to us!

• A traveler in the train, ZurichWe were travelling from Lucerne to Zurich, a long distance via train. It was almost lunch time and our stomachs were growling of hunger. We Indians have this knack of carrying small packets of snacks along with us, wherever we go! We searched our bags and found our packets of namkeen and farsaan. This lady on the opposite side of the aisle asks me, "Do you have some bhujiya?" It took me seconds to understand that she was actually asking for bhujiya. I nodded in affirmation and handed over a handful. She ate it with delight as she recalled tasting it the first time she had been to India.

• Owner of the hotel in Lucerne
  I was in contact with the hotel owner in Lucerne since I made the booking. He would give me weather tips, holiday destinations and helped me out with some sightseeing. During our departure, my mum casually asked him to visit India sometime. Instantaneously, he says NO.
  Whaaat? Why!?
  From his hallway, he removed a particular painting form the wall. He opened the frame to remove another photograph kept behind it. He looked at the photograph and said, I am scared of experiencing this, I will not be able to handle it at all. I myself was left shocked after seeing the picture:
                                     
  We explained that such scenarios don't exist now and besides, he needn't travel by train at all. But he refused to listen. The photograph indeed had a deep impression about the population explosion in his head.

• Cute guy we asked the directions to some place in Paris
  Okay it is not very rare to find cute guys in Paris, but this one was weird. Paris actually is not a tourist friendly city. People generally refuse to communicate in English and when you ask them for directions, they ask you for the map. :\
  Okay, so to this guy we asked our destination, with a little bit of 'tout droit' and 'à gauché' he gave us the right directions. Then he moved on to ask the nationality. I said 'indienne' in his accent (I was up for a lot of fun :P ) and he said, "Oh Pakistan?"
  I resented, "No. India. "
  He repeats, "India - Pakistan, it's all the same right?"
  I was thinking really hard what to say. India and Pakistan have not been well known for their relation and this crazy guy thinks they're the same country. Would it be good to tell him?
  I smiled and said, "Is France and Switzerland same? No, right? The same way India and Pakistan are not" and left rather unhappy with his general knowledge.

• Cab driver in Johannesburg
  This cab driver was the first person we met after we touched the South African land. Since he was the driver all my dad's colleagues called, he already had been with Indians for the past many years. After we reached home, out of desperation from the 12 hour flight travel she stormed into the kitchen to make tea. Before she could even offer, Frank says, "I would love some masala chai. It's the best part of people form India. Nobody here can make that way." Consecutively for the next month, whenever he came by, my mum made tea for him specially.

• Bakery Shop in Paris
  I could not overcome the temptation of eating that soft, creamy and shining mousse in this Bakery Shop near the Eiffel Tower. I asked him the price for three pieces, multiplied it by 70 (Euro was 70 INR back then) and agreed to shell that out. He asked me if I were from India. And I said yes. Without any thought, he turned to his fellow baker and said something in rapid french (I tired hard translating but in vain). The other baker went to the computer, did some clicking and in no time was Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge playing. I really couldn't resist smiling. He boasted of having a lot of hindi song collection in his computer and mentioned how happy he was to see me! :D

• Random lady in a mall at Cape Town
  Cape Town is full of posh malls and shopping areas. Each particular area would always have a Nelson Mandela Square. The South Africans are very proud of this great leader who fought for their country. But at the same time, there are an equal number of Gandhi Squares!
  We had taken a break from shopping and took some rest near one such Mandela Square. A lady, out of nowhere came and asked us our nationality. We were used to this and told her that we're from India. She sat down besides us, and started thanking us. Thanking for what? She was a total Gandhian, a person who follows Gandhi's principles to the core. It made no sense in her thanking us, because we are in no way connected to Gandhi. But it was her respect and love for that country Gandhi belonged to. As a memoir, maximum I could do was handover a 10 rupee Indian note I had with Gandhi's picture on it.

• Passerby in Norway
  This was the funniest perception of India I ever came across. This fellow, asks my father, "You're from India?"
  "Yes" my father says.
  "Your wedding must have cost you a fortune! You cannot even divorce your wife ever."
  Apparently he had come across documentaries in which he saw the big fat Indian weddings we have! He really needed to confirm if we actually spend that much amount on our weddings. With that nod my father gave, and the comments he passed, we still laugh on his idea of being an Indian!

We never really realize, how little things affect. But yes, small incidents also embed deep and lead us to form perceptions about everything - even a vast country like India.

Jack of all trades

I was in the fifth grade when my teacher after reading through a lesson in BalBharti mentions, "Don't be like him, he was a jack of all trades but sadly a master of none" thus introducing us to the new idiom. It was put up as the thought for the day for the rest of the week high up on the blackboard.

I'd read it every morning, trying to figure out which master was I going to be when I grew up. I definitely didn't want to end up a loser like the fellow in the lesson. Confused, yet determined, I knew I would be great at 'something' one day.

Look at me today. I boast of having my own blog, I love playing violin, I am so happy I end up coding well, I can cook decent ( while most of the other girls of my age suck at it), I get above average marks, I sketch portraits, etc.
For people who are acquainted with me, often compliment "You're multi talented!" "Wow! You can do that too!" As I speak of this, I bet you can think of atleast 3 people of similar traits you think are good at everything, all-rounders as they say.

It is only I who knows how brilliant some bloggers exist out there, I play the violin only when I am alone at home to avoid the unbearable tune that follows, I absolutely suck at algorithmic coding (read: actual coding), cooking is something I definitely don't wanna do the rest of my life, I was way better at academics when I was in school, I cannot sketch a female portrait (yes, all attempts in vain).

Left me what? Something I didn't want to be - Jack of all trades, master of none.

For peers, its complex giving only for a while. Its tough for people like me to win in competitions of a particular skill. There are always 10 people who are masters of that art, bagging away the prize rightfully. All we are left with is the so-called great essence of participation everywhere. The metaphor applies to bigger things like coming across an interview too!

It is interesting to note how this phrase was not meant to be a derogatory term at all. Earlier it was the very positive context that a Jack of all Trades was refereed to. I don't even see the reason why:

• Variety is the spice of life, isn't it? Why stick to a particular area and keep exploiting it till you get bored? And when you feel you're done, its too late to step out.
• Steve Jobs was definitely not a better programmer than his Engineering Head. But what made him Steve Jobs was the overall knowledge from programming, designing and marketing fields.
• Jacks of all trades are up for a show anytime. They are far more sporty than a master of one because I bet he would have tried at that performance sometime before in his life.

Well often these are just reasons I keep giving myself owing to the category I belong. The truth is, the world is too specialized to see that. The blinders of their area of mastery allows them to think only in One Direction (No! Not that band!).

In fact, it is not only me or that teacher of mine who sees this as a bad trait. The world today demands a 'specialized' person in every field. Tremendous respect and fat salaries await individuals with a specialization. Practically jacks of all trades are more or less treated as average mediocre crowd with no distinguishing factor at all. They have no reason in the word to be famous as things they do are ordinary.

What is it like BeingAJackOfAllTrades?

Honestly, when its showtime, we know we rule. But when it comes to making decisions, that's where we falter. If we knew what held more importance in our lives, we would left trying to do everything at once and set ourselves on the path to master that 'something'.

Precisely that is what happened when I was supposed to select a 'stream of study' after 10th grade. I could have managed with any field I could have taken. That is what is happening now, I fail to figure out if MBA or MS or No Masters would be the best choice for me. While its so easy for the others to pinpoint their line of action, its with considerable envy I say its too tough for me to decide. And then in the end, our choices, it doesn't even matter. Because whatever we choose, at the same time, somewhere we are polishing ourselves to improvise on the other choice too.

While it sucks to be stuck in such shoes, I cannot help convince myself that the reason why "Generals" in a Military force are called so because they see the bigger picture, innovate, plan, predict and ultimately climb to power the fastest.

Doing what we love

I had a very productive day filled with work, social media, studies, games and sitcoms at the same time!

The chances of a Mumbai University student saying that is as good as the odds my mum will thread the needle in one go.

Because honestly when its a regular day at college, we attend the office hours 9-5 followed by an event of some sort and by the time we are home, hardly anything but the bed will attract. Its not even that the syllabus is offering anything close to productivity. And if its a day in the Preparatory Leave, don't even ask! The guilt of not studying doesn't allow you to do anything and the fact that there's plenty time doesn't allow you to study either.

Anyway! For a change, my day was perfect today. And I started with this new post, ditching the 40 pending drafts because I realized something. This realization made a hell lot of a difference on a very delicate part of me - my emotions.

It is not rare that I criticize the social media and whatsapp groups for making me feel so isolated and shut to the "fun" world out there followed by those crappy lonely feelings and why I need to have people constantly asking me 'How are you doing?' or 'What's up?'

But you know what? There's a stop to that, there's a way to not let yourself enter that horribly tangled maze of thoughts which result in nothing but convincing you of how meaningless your life is - Do what you want.

Productivity as a third person sees, would be the amount fruitful material one is able to produce. Fruitful to? Fruitful to (of course) him. Simple as that, it'd mean how much of use you are to him. So when, you as the first person measures productivity, why do you look at how yielding you are to that third person who sees you as some sort of a manufacturing machine!

Productivity is and should defined by us. We define what value a particular activity holds. So when we are doing what we want, what we like, we are naturally doing something that is more useful to us.

Do what you want - with complete dedication, with all your focus, put in all your efforts

I don't need to say that, do I? Because doing what you love generates passion and passion is the key to those elements of success striked above.

Coding a dream project or simply reading a short story that boosted your morale or just scribbling down a few random thoughts in your head or trying out a new combination of mayonnaise and garlic in the kitchen is WORK. Work is not assignments. Work is not an upcoming deadline. It is not what our teachers or our bosses ask us to do. It is not just material things.

Once we realize what is the worth of the work we do, we tend to feel productive. Because we manage to define 'productive' on our terms. And then that amazing feeling of your ass being on fire, just aggravates the passion even more! We stop caring about how many followers we have on Twitter. We don't give a shit if the phone's on silent. It hardly matters if we have had food for the last 8 hours. It is all a continuous cycle!

What a toll on emotions. That same sulking old fellow who cribbed for attention now lives a life. He is carefree. Fun and work mean no different to him. He loves being called a workaholic because it exactly rhymes with awesome. The deadlines now seem as the challenging competitor rather than a dreadful burden.

If there's one quality that I could pick up from Hank Rearden (Atlas Shrugged) it would be his attitude of loving every bit of one's work. The feeling of not giving a damn to anything propelled in naturally. No regrets for his unkind behavior to the social protocols at all. It is actually living that "Like a Boss" life.

People, I have often read say that its not easy to do what we love always. But trust me they lie. They say that to excuse themselves for the guilt of not having had that courage to select the right kind of work. And who the hell says you can't fill your stomach by doing what you love? In today's world, everything sells. Products, services, talent, ideas, everything. Like magic? Be a magician! If you believe in it enough, things will make their way out. You won't need to deliberately show your audience how good a worker you are, it will be automatically visible. Meager hassles like a cunning competitor (blah) or politics at appraisal will shoot their way out of your life.

Doing what we love and not loving what we do is what differentiates between an uplifted mood and a pessimistic mood. Our emotions indeed are puppets to the choices we make in life. Our emotions are a complete reflection of how proud we are on making those choices and living a life we always only dreamed of.

As Confucius rightly said,

Choose a job you love, and you'll never have to work a day in your life.

Dil toh bacha hain ji...

I wrapped my earphones and paid 19 bucks to the rickshaw and walked towards the main entrance of the complex. It was about 9:30 in the night and every inch of my body ached as I dragged myself towards the gate. “I wish Ma’am would have appreciated my work. All efforts down the drain, this is not fair.” I was still thinking about the bad day at college, too preoccupied to notice the shimmer around the play area of the complex.

I lift my head to see little girls dressed up in their traditional ghagra attire. Vibrant colored clothes, mirror studded jewelry, bright red lipstick with a hint of kajal in the eyes, dupatta covering the little heads, oh god, those days! I could visualize the little me with my sister enjoying the festival to the fullest like we did every year. Nine different sets of clothes for the nine different days with matching necklace and matching bracelets. Despite the exams every year, we would act carefree and get dancing with the crowd. Then as the clock would strike 9:30, mum we would start hiding ourselves in the crowd. And god knows how, mum would find us in a second showing the clock ticking fast. “Go home! You have to get up for school. Remember you have an exam? Play as much as you want on Saturday. Come on now, get running.” And then we would make that puppy face pleading her to allow 5 more minutes.

Someone, get me a time machine. I want to go back to my past! I feel like a senior citizen already! Bloody hell, I it took me five days to realize that half the festival had passed away already. I follow the news every day, don’t I? I know where the gold is heading, I know when Narendra Modi came to Mumbai, I know about the latest facebook app update, when did I miss this?

Probably I was too busy catching up with the “more important” things in life. Probably I was working my ass off to earn that one extra mark on my project. Probably I was preparing myself to become a better a professional. Or should I say probably I was just trying to act adult?

This stage, the nineteen going, the twenty coming; the giving up on the word ‘teen’ from the age; the transition from not giving excuses but taking the blames; the losing out on the childhood forever in every possible manner is not easy. It’s hard. Harder than any physics problem I have tried to crack. Parents, teachers, everyone around expect us to behave like them, as adults. We are expected to meet deadlines, give commitments, not only give but complete them, make the right decisions, erase every chance of a mistake, be perfect in the worst of times and emerge victorious always.

Such circumstances make me hate the process of growing up. All that growing up meant as a kid was wearing high heels, getting my own mobile phone, not study, earn lots of money and spend them on cars. and it’s nowhere close to reality! And what has it given me so far? Apart from testing my patience to things I cannot tolerate, growing up has taught nothing. It has taken away the joy in little things like eating ice-cream and has taken away my liberty to cry because apparently I am big now.

Ask yourself, isn’t it pretence? The act of not getting affected when people call you names, the showing off of how strong you are by being calm when someone provokes you for a fight, the taking up of unwanted responsibilities of work we would hate to do, feeling apprehensive to take help (thanks to the big fat being adult ego), difficulty in accepting mistakes because as adults we never can make any, feeling embarrassed when friends sing a birthday song for you – is it not all fake being?

I fail to understand, what is it that appeals to us in “behaving” like an adult. Bacho jaise mat karo yaar, is what everyone says. Arre! What is the problem in being a kid? Don’t kids do their work efficiently? Don’t they put in their best when it comes to completing a task? Don’t kids finish their homework? Don’t they learn new things every day?

Difference is we, adults take things too seriously. Way more seriously than it needs to be taken. And then we treat its existence as the end of the world. Everything will strictly revolve around it.  Sometimes it makes me think: Are we just jealous of their happiness? Is that the reason we restrict them? Is that the reason we ask them to grow up all the time? The reason why they are smiling, laughing and ‘kidding’ around always is because they find joy in what they do. They are show what they are. Basically, they don’t know what the word tension means.

Even we can take our lives easy. Maybe not unnecessarily add stress to what we do. Just be content with what we have and keep doing our work with sincerity and dedication. Not worry about the return but the investment of our heart in what we do. Why can’t other adults around us be like that, make others feel the same and set a new trend? Makes think of saying them in a weird American accent of a dude “Why can’t we just chillax?”

Is growing up really that bad? Will it be full of pretentious days and hiding our true feelings? Will it just be restricted to a bunch of adults who will work like robots to accomplish their dreams? Will we never laugh on a silly joke? Will we never kick a football lying on the wet field again for the fear of clothes getting dirty? Will I ever get a chance to play on the swing freely?

Will it be the same?

“People come, people go – they’ll drift in and out of your life, almost like characters in a favorite book. When you finally close the cover, the characters have told their story and you start up again with another book, complete with new characters and adventures. Then you find yourself focusing on the new ones, not the ones from the past.”

We laughed, we played, we sang, we danced, we attended boring lectures, we ate in the canteen together, we gave birthday treats, we played pranks, we watched movies, we debated over silly things, we chatted, we bitched about people, we discussed long philosophies, we solved long problems, we took pictures, we encouraged, we mimicked each other, we bunked class, we did last minute studies, we planned our careers - we did it all, together.

 

10 years down the line, will it really be the same?

Friends, as we call them have led us through everything in life as if it were a cakewalk. While the rest of our peers were busy giving us pressure, they told us how "chilled out" our lives were.

I need not elaborate about how graciously our lives get affected by the little things they do for us. I need not tell you how big a deal my friends are for me when I know your's are equally integral part of your life. I need not describe how easily we cling on to them, eventually depend on them.

In fact, sometimes this scares me. It instills fear, a deep fright of what will I do without them?

Ranging from a wide range of personal problems to notorious ideas to serious discussions I rely on them. Little things that matter much and big problems that were ignored, all are discussed without hesitation. Honest feedback and consolation both are expected at the same time! Imagine how impossible it will be without them!

I am aware, I still have a year to go with these people. I have a lot of time to collect more memories. It's a long way, really long way! It was yesterday I realized how quickly did 2 years pass by. Won't the same happen again? Even the next two years will pass by swiftly and that long way will just seem insignificant and tiny. On top of that the mere thought of separation scared me. 

But why am I finding this so difficult now?
I passed out of school, an institution with the same set of friends for more than 10 years however good or bad they were. I spent 2 years preparing hard to get into a good engineering college (Read IIT) with a new set of excellent friends. I am thoroughly enjoying every moment of the engineering course with again, a new bunch of crazy 'items' ( :P ) Perhaps, after a year, I will be going with the flow with different graduates in another company or B-school! Simple as it should be, it isn't!

I still remember how apprehensive I was about finding my kind of people when I joined junior college. Contrary to my hesitations, things rolled so smoothly! It hardly took me a few days to get accustomed with them. In a few months, we felt like we knew each other since years! And then when we went separate ways - different colleges, different cities, tears built up saying goodbye. It was difficult, impossible to imagine living life with the same enthusiasm post them. But whoa, what happened later? I got a new atmosphere, new things to worry about, new opportunities and new people with the same old me. Now I feel indifferent to those changes, as if I was so stupid to have encountered such feelings! Yet sometimes, I wish I could carry them all along wherever I went. Yet sometimes, I feel how awesome it'd be if we all worked together!

Same will happen now I assume. It's not that I won't get friends later on. It's not that they won't be good. It's not that I won't miss the old ones. By saying that I know I am merely convincing myself to believe that life will be good without them, that things will change only for the good, that going separate ways will only give us more things to discuss about and of course, progress on an individual level.

Perhaps where the problem lies is - we invest so much in relationships. Look at companies, governments, institutions - they have departments which 'look after maintaining relationships'. How much more can that explain what I want to say! As humans we have this inseparable urge to connect to people emotionally. Which makes them more important than us at times! There are times I often question if such a high level of involvement is needed. And ironically,  I end up attaching myself the most with them! However, I will talk about that sometime later..

The point now is

10 years down the line, will it make a difference? Or are my concerns today just like those yesterday and I will only feel foolish to have encountered them years later?

Probably I need to forget such uneasy thoughts as a bad dream and live the present to the fullest awaiting the surprises the future has stored for me!

Hopefully these were ramblings and rantings of just another human, who gets attached to another easily, but carries the spirit of embracing changes with enthusiasm minus fear :)