Rebirth

I walk by an empty room sometimes
And my mind sinks into memories bygone...

Of those walls that had no windows or door,
Of that damp corner where I'd always crouch
Look up at the blackened ceiling above
While an untold sorrow weighed my heart

The walls seemed to close in on me
The face in the wall a mere shadow

And the shrieks froze inside my throat
As I cowered in wait of an evident end

But the walls caved in the moment I blinked
To reveal a lovely sun shining in their wake
It warmed and fed a soul long stifled
And turned fright into ethereal epiphany

And that bright sun still livens up my life,
Warming my days, lighting up my nights
Passing by an empty room reminds me sometimes
Of how lifeless i was and how I came to life...

Melbourne here I come!

As each day goes past, the excitement just seems to rise exponentially. D-day is approaching fast - getting nearer by the minute. I can already picture myself roaming around the streets of Melbourne all by myself, lounging in one of the many coffee shops on the sidewalks or playing touristy with my camera. I can't believe my luck at having bagged such an opportunity so early on in my life. If only life were this good, all the time!

Okay, time to rewind a little. So I received this very surprising call last week that (almost) made my hair stand on end. I have been working as a freelance travel writer for quite some time now, so far only having reviewed places around the city though. But last Saturday, I got a call from the director of the travel website I'd been working for, and the first words he shouted into the phone were, "It's your time to visit Melbourne NOW!" Taking it to be just another of his lame jokes, I ignored the words and proceeded to start talking about the clearance of my remaining dues with them. But he did not give it up, Thank God. He explained to me how one of their partner international travel agencies was looking for a couple of good travel writers to send on an all-expenses-paid trip to Melbourne, Australia (and there I went wheeee!) as part of their campaign to rake up genuine travel reviews for their upcoming travel website on Australia. He had recommended my name for it, and to my utter surprise, they had SELECTED ME as one of the two lucky ones! I expressed my doubts on the same though, having read a lot of stories recently about unsuspecting writers having been left behind in faraway places by well-known global names in the industry to fend for themselves, in a clear breach of trust and contract without any later liability whatsoever. But he had had it all researched already and assured me that the whole 10-day trip itinerary had been put down in a legal contract, that he had read through each and every clause, and that I shall be given the freedom to do as I please throughout, with the expenses being borne as they came. Now what could be better than that? I happily assented, and went through the whole registration and orientation procedure yesterday. I'm finally going to Australia!!

The other guy accompanying me on the trip is a Malayali from Kerala. At first glance he seemed to be of a very serious sort, all grim and business-like, specific about every little detail. So I wonder how much fun (or not-fun) it would be if I had to take him along wherever I went. I guess I'll have to figure my way out with him - awesome people-skills are a real boon to those who have them. ;)

But up until about a week ago, I only thought of Melbourne as the city of the Australian Open Tennis Grand Slam. My bad - I couldn't have been more wrong. In the last few days I've exercised my Googling skills a lot and found out everything there was to be known about Melbourne. And you know what I realized as a result? There probably aren't more than about a dozen cities around the world that have such an exquisite combination of natural beauty, inherent culture and architecture as Melbourne boasts of. In particular the Tourism Victoria website had my eyes and mind glued to it for quite a while. To enjoy the sights and sounds of beautiful Melbourne by day, and to let one's hair down in cosmopolitan Melbourne by night, not to mention the lure of the hot-as-hell Australian men with that fabled seductive Australian accent - things certainly don't get better than this. Am I not raring to go Melbourne! :D

Although the travel agency has set down a fixed itinerary consisting of some great places for me to visit over the 10 day getaway, they've very generously left out a lot of time for me to do my own stuff too - shopping, detox, visiting bookstores, street-side cafes and other places that are not on the list. And so, I have my own plans to make each moment count. Here are some of the experiences I would love to indulge myself in -

A bird's eye view of Melbourne from Skydeck 88, atop Eureka Tower - the ninth tallest residential building in the world. I wonder how the city would look from such a grand height - the Yarra river, the immense cityscape, greenery, houses, tall buildings - wouldn't it all look like an intricately formed miniature model of Melbourne? I'd like to see it with my own eyes.

A visit to Melbourne Zoo and Melbourne Aquarium. I am an animal lover like no other. From a muddy little piglet to the creepy lizard on the wall, I just find every living creature so fascinating! A visit to the aquarium is definitely going to be topmost on my personal itinerary.

A full-day tour on board the City Circle Tram. Did you know that Melbourne is the only city in Australia where trams still ply? I've always dreamed about traveling on a real tram, having till date only heard about them and seen them in old films. I'm sure gonna live my little dream in Melbourne. The city circle tram is anyway free for all and takes you through most of the city's popular sites. Total win win!

Melbourne Park. I wouldn't do justice to my first ever visit to Australia if I gave the legendary sports venue a miss. After all, it is the venue where the annual Australian Open Tennis championship is held. I follow the game, especially this particular tournament, most religiously. Standing on the very ground that has seen the likes of Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal and their predecessors and contemporaries play on it, is a mind-numbing thought. I wouldn't give it up for the world, no sir!

And to say that Melbourne looks spell-bindingly beautiful at night would be a gross understatement. Because the city actually shines. Bright lights sparkle from every building; warmth and life radiate from every nook and corner of the city; its narrow but lively lanes welcome you with open arms day and night. No wonder then that Melbourne remains the most livable city in the world for the second year in a row. It's totally worth the coveted title!

Before I sign off however, there is one place which this post would sadly be incomplete without. At just about a two-hour drive to the west of Melbourne city lay the 12 Apostles, a famous group of natural limestone rock formations rising out of the southern ocean on Victoria's breathtaking coastline. Driving down the Great Ocean Road in a yellow Mustang convertible, the cool coastal breeze tousling my hair, with the historic 12 Apostles in view even as the sun sets over the horizon in the distance - that's the kind of stuff my dreams are made of. Dreams that I shall not bury deep inside my heart for a change - dreams that shall be fulfilled in another three weeks. Bless the day I took up writing; little did I know it would take me places, quite literally too!

I cannot wait anymore for the Melbourne tour to kick off. Oh Lord, make the time fly for a change! Writing all this has me drooling already! (*_*)

(This post is my entry for a contest organized by Indiblogger in association with Tourism Victoria. For more details or to vote for my post, visit here.)

The True Spirit of Independence

I do not write posts on every other festival we celebrate in the country. I sometimes think I should though, since there are so many that my blog would complete 50 posts each year only with such posts. I wasn't planning on writing today, but something compelled, rather inspired me to.

We Indians love to criticize our country. I can vouch for the fact that it is our common favorite pastime. Whenever two or more Indians get together in any damn situation - traveling in a bus, sipping tea at the roadside chai-wallah or watching an exciting Cricket match onscreen - the discussion eventually veers towards how big a failure our Indian system is.

Youngsters huddle together and criticize the Indian Education system, the septuagenarian-octogenarian politicians ruling our country and any particularly hot topic in the news, usually not knowing any of the intricacies involved. It isn't like we don't also criticize every other country there is on the globe, especially our erstwhile rulers from the Great Britain and the gorey Amreekans. We Indians are uniformly racist for everyone that way. Just that, in the end our own motherland turns out to be the winner in terms of the number of subjects it can disappoint us on. Admit it, don't we all do that?

THAT is the kind of negative attitude we Indians carry like a chip on our shoulders today. Criticize Gandhi for dividing the nation, dig up dirt on famous freedom fighters to character-assassinate them, abuse the current political system, curse the country for its high crime rate and faulty security system and declare that we as a country and people suck. We do this all year round as a rule, and then, come Independence Day, there we all are - celebrating our independence, flying kites, chanting slogans of "I love my India" and changing our Facebook display pictures (more recently, cover pictures have taken over that function) to reflect the National Flag or something similar. 'Spirit of Independence' we like to call it. But pry a bit deeper, and is that spirit really there? Does it exist in all of its intensity and fervor in the average Indian citizen? I should think not.

Most of us fail to realize the true effect that the freedom struggle and the nation's eventual independence have had on our nation and our psyches. If we are independent in our thoughts and lifestyle today; if we have our own system in the first place, our own rules and even a near-fair, documented system to implement them, it is all due to that fateful day from 65 years ago. We are a democracy today, even though much flawed and criticized, yet something no Indian could ever have dreamed of until the 1940s. With independence came not only the right to run our own country, but the confidence to govern ourselves and make things work without foreign intervention. Many of you would know from personal experience how hard it can be to stand on your own feet and think for yourself if you've been imposed upon and led for far too long. It takes a population full of courage, determination and belief in their collective strength to salvage a nation from ruins and build in its place a real force to reckon with.

To all those people who love criticizing the country, ask yourself - aren't we all ultimately learning? We make mistakes, take wrong decisions, hurt people, lose valuables, in the process learning from it all and looking towards a better future. We all may not have the same ability or the fastidiousness to do things right and achieve note and fame, but each life is unique in itself and has merit worth exploring. Analogously our country is also learning, growing with each passing year, sometimes bettering itself, sometimes facing huge setbacks, yet looking forward with a vision. Before independence, we had everything but hope. Development ensued in many spheres even in the British raj, yet the common man did not think for himself. He was at best a slave, an urchin to many. I daresay the common man is at least his own master now. There are rules even now; government policies that don't go down our throats so well, but rules will always exist. Without rules and a system, chaos shall ensue. A chaos much much worse than what your eyes see across the country today. With the independence of the nation and development of our own Constitution, India as a country got a vision to work towards, a prize to keep its eye on. I shall quote Mr. Shashi Tharoor here:

"A nation exploited for two centuries by the British, which had effectively a zero per cent rate of growth throughout the first half of the 20th century, a land riven by religious, regional and caste conflicts, and full of poor, malnourished and diseased people, faced with the enormous political challenge of integrating several hundred 'princely states', came together through its elected representatives to produce, in the soaring majesty of its Constitution, a compelling vision for the future."

The prize may have kept on changing over the years, but it is very much there. The country today has many aims to work towards - elimination of corruption from the system, combating natural disasters, addressing issues like unemployment, hunger and poverty to name a few - and the dream of someday being called a SUPERPOWER. However none of the growth we see around us today could have been possible had our people not willed themselves to sacrifice their lives and jump into the freedom struggle at different points of time to free India of foreign rule. That having been one shackle removed, there are many more boundaries still to be surpassed, many feats to be achieved before one can fully be satisfied with the nation. Yet, if the efforts, achievements and laurels of all those pre- and post-independence years go unapplauded, wouldn't it be an insult to our nation, to our very own people?

We, the people of India, need to believe in ourselves and our nation. We need to will ourselves into being the change we want to see in the system. If we as the common people keep exercising our own personal racist agendas, faulty principles and corruption at grass-root levels and still blame the system and the people running the government as the real culprits, what hope does the country have of evolving into anything better? The true 'spirit of independence' lies in believing in our country and its power. Look at the positives and work towards developing them rather than dwelling upon all the flaws. Work on the cons, I say, don't just criticize. Be true to yourself - don't just respect the country and its struggle for independence on the 15th of August each year. Imbibe that spirit of independence into your daily life, your dealings, respect for yourself and every fellow Indian. Be a true Indian - take pride in the treasure trove of culture, values, intellect and inherent capabilities that being an Indian by default brings you - be happy in being who you are by birth. There's nothing better you can do for your country.

The Magic Called Monsoon

It is common knowledge that monsoon is the season for lovers and artists. Well, I fit into both profiles - I am a romantic at heart and art flows in my veins. Okay, enough of lies and self-flattery. Simply put, I LOVE THE RAINS.

There is something truly magical and refreshing about the rain that energizes me, uplifts my mood even if for only as long as the raindrops and their after effects last, but it does. Now that I am recovering slowly (Oh! Thanks for asking, yeah my ankle is seeing gradual improvement), as soon as I hear the pitter patter of raindrops on my window AC (a slight deviation from the quintessential 'raindrops on my window sill', thanks to modernization), I run (or limp) along to the garden first and then to the front door to capture the amazing feel and look of the baarish. It invariably feels heavenly and refreshing. Easily defines divinity for me. No wonder that I vehemently advocate the rains' widespread use as instant mood-lifter and an all-natural aphrodisiac. God, what is it with the rain-haters, are they daft?!


Now most of my readers are familiar with my love for my garden and for the camera alike. Earlier I wrote about the joys of nature at my doorstep and of the surprisingly pleasant weather that the month of April brought with it this year. So here I present again, the look and feel of actual monsoon rains and the magical effects they have on everything, right from the smallest of species alive and kickin' under the soil to the newly sprouted leaves on the Guava tree and the fruit it bears. Everything is just so beautiful enticing exquisite!

Just one of the 20 odd shots I took of this particular beauty. (That moment when you realize you have a new muse. And it is a fruit, that too a guava)

I like to think of my garden in the rains as a lush tropical rainforest.

Water, water everywhere. Would anyone like to take a drink?

Ah, that nosey little neighbor Mr.Crow again. Never fail to make an appearance now, do we?

Every crawling, wriggling, cute little thing out there makes my sister cringe in horror. No wonder I love them!

And that's the crowning glory of the place. If only it housed things less nefarious than those evil vampire-like honey bees.

Love birds on a temporary break, eh?

I cannot describe what a rush clicking these pictures gives me. The pain in the foot seems to disappear for a while and I tune my senses to the sound and feel of the world of green and of all things natural and thriving. It is, as I say, a joy like none other. Simply love the Delhi monsoon!









P.S. What are you still doing, scrolling down to read my highly over-rated words? Go, move your lazy bum out there into the open - street, terrace, backyard whatever - and immerse into the magic called monsoon!


P.P.S. If you like what you see and would like to connect with me on Facebook, like my page here. :)

Coping with Pain

I remember this time long long ago, when I was probably 8 or 10 (random guess, I don't really know). It was a Sunday and mom was harnessing all the manpower she could lay her hands upon (read: me, sister and dad) into cleaning up the house, every nook and cranny. I'm talking about the days when we didn't have a housekeeper/maid and had no need for one either. Now I have never been a hard-worker or a cleanliness-freak, and I would do anything to not have to encounter dust as it gives me a highly irritating allergy. So I was kind of slacking in my job of dusting dad's medicine rack. Did I also ever mention how I have always been afraid of scoldings and anyone yelling at me? It frightens me to the extent that I start keeping a distance from the person who yells at me or fights with me.


Anyway, mom caught me slacking and gave me a piece of her mind; I panicked and the medicine bottle went crashing from my hand onto the floor. Glass pieces scattered all over. Another piece of her mind followed. Anyhow she cleaned up the mess and we resumed our respective tasks, this time my making sure I didn't become lax. In the meantime a mean little shard of glass that might have been left out got embedded into my heel. I felt the pinch but was too scared to stop working and risk another scolding and thus went about my work with a slight limp. Now I am a pro at hiding my feelings, especially pain. So no one discovered my limp or the injury for a long time, how long I fail to recall now. The glass obviously went deeper and caused more pain as time went by.

In a few days I guess, one of our beloved uncles visited us. He used to be a total child-pleaser, playing with us, giving us mock plane rides and recounting educative animal stories. And as fate would have it, he noticed my limp when no one else at home did. He asked about it and I came out with the truth. People got worried, analyzed the wound, plucked the glass out somehow and administered required first aid. End of story. I remember no more.

Now the reason why this memory keeps coming back is that I am in pain. And it reminds me of how long and silently I can cope with it. Though I'd consider it a good trait, but it isn't something my mother is proud of. She still almost cries on recalling this incident and laments that I should voice my feelings more; should tell them when I am in pain, so that they do not unknowingly subject me to more suffering and can take necessary action to ease my pain. If only I could do that. But it just isn't me. I wouldn't utter a sound until the pain gets too impossible to bear. Let's just say my body is wired that way. Its threshold of tolerance to pain is a couple of notches higher than any average person like me. I've had multiple ear piercings done at an age when they hurt a lot, eye syringing (read: medical procedure done by inserting a needle into the nictitating membrane of the eye to check if the nasal passage is blocked) done three times, had my left foot sprained about 11-12 times in the last 4 years and undergone a lot more painful stuff I cannot keep track of. I do feel pain, it isn't like I don't. I just don't like to make a show of it, I don't know why. It feels so much more awesome if someone expresses concern on seeing me all bandaged up, and I smile and say "I'm fine". Okay, that may not be the real reason. But I have no answer to why I hide my pain. I was just made that way, much to everyone's chagrin, either by life or by my very own nature and temperament.

But this is why I no longer have leverage with my family and friends as someone who is truly suffering an ordeal. Since I always grin and bear it, over the years they have started assuming that I am fine, so they've dropped the niceties, stopped running errands for me and even asking about my health, even though I am as much in pain as ever. I don't know how I can change that. It's human tendency - we all evolve and adapt. So I've adapted to the indifferent treatment and learnt to fend for myself even in sickness and pain.

But I had this terrible fall yesterday, very similar to the one I had a few years ago, the fateful fall that kick-started all these foot instability issues I have today. It sends chills down my spine to even remember that day...it has shaped my life in more ways than I can count. Though it's the other foot today - the right one. All the more reason to panic, since I don't want it to have the same fate as the left had. Amen.

So the fall yesterday was so bad, I couldn't move my foot at all. I somehow found my way home, slumped down on the sofa right in front of the main door and couldn't get off it for hours. I lay there quiet all day long, hoping that I'd be able to stand up soon enough. But finally when it was time to shift into the neighboring room, I couldn't even touch my foot to the ground without excruciating pain. But I had to move nevertheless, so I managed to play langdi-taang, or to put it in better words, hopped on one foot until the next room. I lay down on the bed there and cried for the next 20 minutes. Yeah, I cried, and I cried very hard. It pained so bad I just could not control myself. Those few meters of hopping felt like my entire foot was being ripped apart and burnt. My mother would surely have been surprised to see me cry, though I could hardly see her through all those tears. She consoled me tenderly and I felt warm, something I haven't experienced in a very long time. She sat by my side for a while, dialing up the doctor's to consult, bringing me various necessities and asking whether I needed anything else. It was when she left that strangely I burst out crying again, realizing that I hadn't had so much care showered upon me in a long long time. It felt...strange. Nice surely...but strange. Was it because of the crying? Probably yes. But it taught me a big lesson. If you expect care or concern, you must let your feelings be known and ask for it yourself. No point expecting anyone to care for you of their own accord. In today's busy time, no one would bother unless you show them that you need them. Alas, I am so used to coping with pain now that I don't feel the need of anyone's care anymore. And that is where I lose every time...

Retro Madness

It's been a mad two weeks. Shopping, shopping and more shopping - it's hard to imagine how something as rejuvenating and stress-free as shopping can turn into a nightmare if you're looking for something in particular and nothing but 'that' will do. Phew...I thank God Sunday's gone. I had this cousin's engagement party to attend and as expected, it had a 'theme' - RETRO. So to say, we were supposed to arrive dressed up in Retro style - something from the past, like bell bottoms or white polka dotted mini dresses or maybe big head dresses and flowery attire. I had to research a lot, my mother even went to such lengths as scouring through Shammi Kapoor's song videos on YouTube to check out the trends from those times. Well, just to confirm though, since she is from the same era, remember.


Now I won't leave you wondering about what I wore at the party. I simply dressed up in a white polka dotted sheer top, a black skirt and superrrrr sexy black heels. And the icing on the BnW cake? A white feathery-flowery Helen-like head band that made quite a few heads turn at the do. I thoroughly enjoyed the evening, more so because of my turning heads :P as the party wasn't really as happening as I'd have liked. Anyhow, all's well that thankfully ends, even if not well. Have a dekko!

But now I have to admit that I am out of touch. No, not from writing, which I have been doing incessantly all this while for my freelance job as a travel-writer. But it's been long since I blogged. I somewhat faintly remember mentioning that I'll be posting reviews of places around Delhi on the blog in these holidays. Well, I did too. Twice. But now it's been way too long and I've visited just too many places to be able to review them all or even choose as to which ones to review first. So I figured I'll make a list of all the places I've been to over the summer and maybe my readers could help me choose which ones to review. But then I made the list - and it surprised me to see I had only visited museums, churches, gurudwaras, temples and monuments all this while. Nothing much to boast of by way of 'interesting' places for normal people to visit, is there? I just don't understand what strange excitement I derive out of visiting museums. It's weird! But anyhow, I realized I don't have much to review here. So I'll just wait for the website for which I'm writing to launch soon, so I could give you all a glimpse of the work I've been doing. For now, take a look at their pre-launch outlook here. Cheers! :)

I, Me, Myself - Finally!

I sat thinking today. I've been writing this blog for nearly two years and a half. I've talked about anything and everything that ever struck me. And yet, I guess I've never really introduced myself properly. That may be partly because of my strong belief that one's personality, if unfolded completely in one go, fails to register in its entirety on the receiver's mind. If however unveiled in bits and pieces, it helps one form their own opinion and impression of the person, forging a much stronger and more honest bond in the long run. And that's what I've always striven to maintain with all you beloved readers of mine.

But today I thought it's high time I wrote down the basics that define me. My life, my upbringing, my roots and my thinking - you've had only a glimpse at each aspect of me till now. Well well, here's the real deal now.




My friends have always told me that I talk and behave like someone far beyond her years. Some have even gone as far as to say that I possess a maturity and insight into life suited to a person much older than a twenty year old. I don't know whether to take this as a compliment or hidden sarcasm, but I attribute all that I am, partly to my upbringing and partly to all the good and bad experiences I've had in my short adolescent life. I'm anyhow of an unconsciously analytic bent of mind, so my prophetic sermons and words of advice may sometimes give out an image of extra maturity to some. Or maybe I am indeed that mature and am just being modest here. Let's just say I have a natural way with words and people that sometimes portrays me in better light than I may actually deserve.

My life, my personality, my character and temperament, all originate from the two wonderful people who brought me into this world. My parents are the two best people I've ever met in life. I know that's how almost every child feels about their parents, but even if I were to think from a neutral man's point of view, I'd agree. They're both extremely honest, straight forward, principled individuals. They don't ever speak ill of anybody unless extremely provoked, they don't ever harm anyone, they strive to fulfill all their responsibilities and try to keep everyone happy. And at the same time, they're super cool, modern parents who don't try to invade our privacy unnecessarily (as far as they can help :P) and always support and guide us in our endeavors.

My parents have given us both a perfect upbringing. They never caved in to our unnecessary demands, never gave us the chance to even learn to throw tantrums. The result - my sister and I don't ever ask for something twice. If something is refused to us for some obviously understandable reason, we don't beg or insist or throw a fit till we get what we want. Many of my friends find this behavior of mine very vexing and impossible, since I would never go to my mother to beg her to let me go to the movies or to hang out with friends if she so much as refused once. That's just who I am. And I'm pretty proud of it. My parents never really let us make do without any desire of ours unfulfilled either - from that stupid long-legged stuffed doll that i wanted one year on my birthday to the awful white frock I wanted to buy knowing all too well that I won't wear it a second time - I got everything I ever wished for, rather always more. (It helps to note here that I never had very unachievable or expensive demands either!)

I made mistakes and my parents forgave me. In fact I still do. I've usually always been out of line; was always the rebellious one, if you may call me that. The kind of things I've done, my parents could as well never talk to me or maybe even ground me for years. And yet here I am, free as a bird, publicly admitting to not having deserved all that love and support I got. And yet, I did, and it has helped me shape my character and given me valuable lessons that would guide me throughout my life. I owe my parents my life as well as teachings on how to live it in the best way possible. There's nothing more that I would ever need in life - in times of distress, tension, confusion or anything - if I actually followed every piece of advice my mother has ever given me. They're THAT effective, in hindsight.

But as we grow up, we tend to exclude our parents from our personal lives for various reasons, the major one being want of space. Who guides us in our paths then? A person sure isn't mature enough at 20 to be capable of making all the right decisions and building a good life for themselves. They are bound to err somewhere. That's where, in my case, my beliefs come in. Again, most of the beliefs I hold today have been instilled in me by my mother. She initiated me towards a spiritual existence - one where you have inner peace in the direst of circumstances. And indeed I attribute my extreme strength to it. I am a scorpion by zodiac and not that I believe a lot in the system, but I do exhibit a lot of the typical scorpion traits - awesomeness for one. But with slightly lower patience levels, forgive-but-never-forget attitude and an anti-social nature with a reserved personal life. I don't open up to people easily. I am a socialista with many friends (acquaintances, I'd say) but hardly anyone I'd consider close enough. I hide my true feelings if they are anything other than smile-inducing. And hiding too much inside inevitably leads to breakdowns every now and then, usually on my few loved ones, thus catching them unawares and putting them in very difficult situations. I hate to do that to you, you-know-who-you-all-are, but I can't help sometimes. I try, I swear!

Coming back to the point, I've worked on my temper and impatience issues a lot over the years, as well as on my tendency to alienate people and then feel lonely. My belief in the justice of the Universe has helped a lot i staying positive and moving on after every setback with greater zeal. I'm highly spiritual and believe in God and his fairness. I believe that whatever happens is indeed for something better that you may or may not see right now, but will ultimately reap. So whatever good I receive in life, I attribute to His grace. I have a lot of confidence in my abilities and try to put them to good use - you can see that. But sometimes when I believe I cannot achieve something that is expected of me, I leave it to Him - whether or not I deserve to achieve it He shall decide, I only try to do my best towards accomplishing it. And I brush aside sorrows and misfortunes as signs telling me I'm doing something horribly wrong - once I'm done with all the crying and I-wish-I'd-die laments (can't do without them!!), I check myself and my conduct to find out what it is I'm erring at. I may or may not find something, but I usually conclude that it is I who deserves this misfortune in order to bring me back to ground and guide me on the right path. Trust me, it helps in stress-management and in maintaining a calm attitude in moments of worry. I'm quite well known for that trait. It does keep you a tad low on self-confidence and self-pride though, which is detrimental to one's self-image, but usually does the trick quite well!

And as I've emphasized many a times before, I am a weirdo with all sorts of beliefs and indulgings. I can actually be a huge hypocrite too at times, so remember THAT before mentally pointing out all those instances where you've seen me disregard my own ideals and beliefs and do something so-not-what-I've-written-above. I'm still very much a person, a moody one at that! So you may judge me critically or you may like me - I'm still who I am. I learn from my experiences, I always do, and I try to create a memorable existence for myself in this world. And I strive to write and blabber as much as I can as long as I'm alive and kickin'!

P.S. They do not call me ~Angel~ for nothing. ;)