Good enough?

Every so often, these thoughts, they enter my mind, sometimes strong, sometimes weak. A random photograph, a song, a passage from a book, triggers my mind and I think.

Am I good enough?

Do I have what it takes?

Will I make it?

The people around me are sophisticated, poised, shrewd. They know how to get what they want. They know how to get around. They know the way.

They’re aware of the tactics, and they don’t mind breaking the rules. Morality comes later.

They are the types who won’t mind shoving it in your face; they won’t mind clawing you to get ahead.

They have it all, people say. They have it all.

And again I think:

Am I good enough? Good…but is it enough?

And then…then the Voice spoke aloud again. The very same Voice which had helped me when I needed it, the Voice which had guided me forward when I couldn’t see, the Voice which was always by my side. The Voice which urged me to move ahead no matter what, which kept me grounded when I floated above.

And the Voice told me, as it had always done, “The only person you need to be good enough for is only, and only, you. As long as you're honest to what you do, they cannot harm you. ”

And instantly, all my doubts, fears, insecurities were washed away. All of them. As long as I knew that I did my best, that I gave it all I had, that I was the best I could be…t’would be alright. I needn’t be good enough for them. I needed to be good enough for me, and for me alone.

They are whatever they are, but I'm not bad. I have a positive outlook, loving family, supportive friends and and numerous reasons to smile.


Thats what I am.


"I'm good enough, I'm smart enough and doggone it; people like me. " - Al Franken

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Fighting...but for what?

When I was in Second (Or Third or Fourth, I don't remember clearly), there was a boy in my class named Akshat Bhandari. He always sat on the second-last seat in the second last row. We used to have 'seats with partners'. I always wanted to sit with him, and so did my friend Ashna. We both wanted to sit with him so much, that we started fighting over it. I came to school early so that I could be his partner. Ashna would come, give me an angry look and stalk off. And some days she'd come early. We both got so into this fight that we even resorted to some really, really desperate measures. We would push each other, pull each other's hair and a lot more. After a time, it wasn't about sitting with Akshat any more. I didn't care if I was Akshat's partner or not...all I cared about was that I had to beat Ashna to the seat. I had to have that 'in your face, I win this time' expression on me.

Often, when we're fighting, we lose sight of what we're actually fighting for. The prize at the end of the fight doesn't matter as much as the satisfaction which comes after beating others. Sometimes, maybe, its a good thing, I don't know. But usually, in this case, we fight pointlessly.
We don't care about winning the prize...all we care about is winning from them. Defeating them. Making them lick dust. Okay, thats a little far-fetched. Anyway...

When you're in such a situation like this,
Take a look around.
And then think. "Does it really matter?"

Does it really?

Akshat left the school the following year (not because of us, I hope). And I really, really hope you don't read this Akshat. I'm not that crazy now.
Also, I'd like to apologize to Ashna, wherever she is now.
I'm sorry. Twice we both wanted the same partners (remember in KG when Akshay came to sit with me? I'm not still gloating over this, swear).
Anyway, you can have both of them now. It doesn't matter to me.

Is this what they call 'closure'? ;)

All my love,

P.S. If you're from Ahlcon, please, please, please don't read this!

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My ok-ok Diwali

Happy Diwali, people!

Well, belated actually.
All in all, this was an okay-okay Diwali. Some problems were solved, some new cropped up.

The best I could come up with, due to my non-existent artistic skills.

Lats year's was better, I think.
No it was as bad.

I love how everything is enveloped in lights. And when I try to take a picture, sometimes it looks like there are colorful musical notes suspended in air. Like this:

And this:

This was the view from the eighth floor in my building last year.

Which were, unfortunately, simpler times than these.



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The Magic Words

As we grow up, we learn so many new, different things, gain knowledge and one day, we may become All That. But its important not to forget the little things that we were taught, because in the end, those are the things that help us.

What did your Nursery teacher tell you when you were little?
"Never forget to use the Magic Words," she said.
No matter how old you are, no matter how accomplished or learned you are, the Magic Words are the words you should never forget to use.

Its a simple concept. The Magic Words don't involve any hocus-pocus; but they are just that...magical.

Magic Word Number One:


A 'please' can do wonders. A request is always much more effective than an order. A request can almost make the other person obliged to do whatever you asked them to.
And I don't think that 'please' doesn't exist in close relationships; if I want to borrow something from a person I know really well, I know that she'll give it to me, never mind that I request her or order her. But a please reminds both of us that she's the owner. That I can keep it for as long as I want and do whatever, but a request is always appreciated. In contrast to saying, "I'm taking this."
I've convinced grouchy government employees with a 'please'.
Appeal from the heart and see if you don't get it.

Magic Word Number Two:


Now this a Magic Word people are fast forgetting to use. A 'thanks' goes a long way. After receiving the change or being let in through the door first, after a stranger hands you something that fell down or after someone holds the elevator for you, a thanks is a must. Everybody likes to feel gratified once in a while, knowing that they did something for which you're grateful to them. A thanks can make someone's day, knowing that they helped a person in whatever small way. And whoever said that thanks isn't needed in friendship, said it wrong, according to me.
Everyone likes to hear a thanks sometime or the other. Everyone.

Magic Word Number Three:


This sorry is the most important Magic Word of them all.
When I was little, I swallowed short stories. And one little story I clearly remember.
Once there was a pine tree and a cane plant planted alongside. They were the best of friends but their personalities were very different. The pine tree was arrogant, proud of its size and strength and refused to bend in front of anyone; whereas the cane plant was humble, ready to accept his defeat if need be. The pine tree often made fun of the cane plant, how it bent easily by the softest breeze. But the cane plant just smiled; he knew that he did nothing wrong.
One day, there was a huge storm that ripped apart everything. Torrential rain and hail, thunderstorm destroyed everything. The pine tree which was too proud to bend in front of anyone was uprooted instantly; but the cane plant, a modest little thing, bent along the direction of the wind and was miraculously, saved. Saved from the storm which uprooted the gigantic pine tree.
Never be so proud that you cannot accept your defeat; never be so proud that you're unable to admit your fault; never be so proud that you can't utter a little sorry.
Gukka says that she cannot say sorry; that she 'has too much ego'.
A sorry can melt the hardest of hearts.
Any day.

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It seems as if the only certain thing in my life…is Uncertainty. Everything right now is uncertain. Uncertainty comes with the Wait. The waiting, the wondering...will I get it? Will we go? Will it be OK? Will something happen?

Answers: None. Only the Wait.

I wake up one morning, thinking it to be any other normal day…and suddenly it seems as if the whole world’s tumbling down. And on the day something should happen, the huge feeling of anti-climax envelops me.

This Uncertainty, this makes each emotion extreme. Every single one. When I’ve lost all hope and I think, this is it. Ain’t gonna happen. And suddenly it does…obviously, I’ll be overjoyed. Over the moon. Bliss.

And when…when I wake up in the morning, excited, anticipative thinking, yes. Today’s the day. What I’ve been looking for. It all crumples down with the swish of a feather. With one wrong decision. Then I’m crestfallen, downcast.

It’s a wonder I haven’t been diagnosed with Bi-polar Disorder.

And at the end of the day I lie in bed thinking, ‘If only…’

What could have been had I…? The possibilities are endless. So are the outcomes.

With each decision dictating the next turn in our life…how do we choose the correct one?

With everything uncertain in the life, do we learn to go with the flow…or do we plan even more relentlessly?

With the world moving by in a rush, how do we keep our feet on the ground while keeping pace?


"The only thing that makes life possible is permanent, intolerable uncertainty; not knowing what comes next" - Ursula K. LeGuin

I'm not blaming uncertainty; because in the end, uncertainty is what makes life enjoyable. I'm just saying...its not very easy to live with. Sixteen is not easy.

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Pearls of Wisdom

'Passion and satisfaction go hand in hand, and without them, any happiness is only temporary, because there's nothing to make it last.'

'My dad always said that when you're struggling with something, look at all the people around you and realize that every single person you see is struggling with something and to them, its just as hard as what you're going.'

'And when her lips met mine, I knew that I could live to be a hundred and visit every country in the world, but nothing would ever compare to that single moment when I first kissed the girl of my dreams and knew that my love would last forever.'

-Dear John, my favorite Nicholas Sparks<3

'There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten, but I have loved someone with all my heart and soul, and for me, that has always been enough.'
-The Notebook

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The Zoya Factor

The Zoya Factor by Anuja Chauhan

One of the best chick-lits ever written by an Indian author, The Zoya Factor will glue you to itself. Anuja Chauhan, the mastermind behind lines like Yeh Dil Maange More, Oye Bubbly! and Nothing Official About It, has come up with a different writing style altogether.

By some twist of fate, advertising executive Zoya Singh Solanki was born the exact moment that India clinched the World Cup back in 1983. While on an ad shoot with the Indian cricket team, she breakfasts with them and the team scores an unlikely win. Some of the players start thinking that Zoya may just be their lucky charm, as they are defeated by the weakest of teams in her absence, and indeed, that IS the case. Whenever Zoya breakfasts with any team before a match, they win. Pressurised by the eccentric IBCC president and the repeated requests of the team, Zoya agrees to accompany them to an all-expenses-paid trip to Australia for World Cup 2012.
But whats a story without a sprinkle of romance?
Indian skipper Nikhil Khoda flatly tells her that he doesn't believe in luck; only hard work. Nevertheless, he is amused by the quirky and obsessed-about-being-cool Zoya.

But the best thing about this book is the hinglish language. For example,

'Wahi ki Zoya ko Australia bhejo, we will take good care of her and everything.'
'Complimentary hai jee, waiting de vaaste.'
I read an excerpt of it online, and bought the book the first chance I got. But as soon as I got it, we had to leave for Jaipur. All through the journey, my head was buried in the book. Dad kept saying, "Bahar dekho! Look outside! Look at the people and everything" But I couldn't. To hell with Jaipur-shaipur. Zoya had me hooked.

Here are some excerpts. Hope they get you interested too.

'Which is agony in advertising because when all the snooty ad people think Karol Bagh-type, they imagine a pushy wannabe in a chamkeela salwar-kameez with everything matching-matching. Someone who says 'anyways' instead of anyway, 'grands' instead of grand and 'butts' instead of butt. (As in, she has no butts, earns twenty grands a month, and lives in Karol Bagh. Who does she think she is, anyways?)'

'Any time an auntie at a party asked him, 'Beta, vot you wantu be ven you grow up, hain?', he'd chirp 'I'm-going-to-be-a-soldier-and-fight-for-India!'. And then everybody would go all moist eyed and sigh,'So cute'. While I spent my childhood and adolescence dithering over lawyer/banker/fashion-designer/nurse, he remained committed tp playing with his tanks and singing chal chal re naujavan.'

'No more I've-been-wanting-to-kiss-you-all-evening kind of stuff.
It was depressing, of course, and sometimes I wondered if I had misheard him or something (kick you all evening? kid you all evening?). That one measly remark had fully put me off all the nice, normal, well-to-do boys my dad had made me meet on various weekends, which was, of course,completely pathetic. I kept dreaming these cheesy dreams where Nikhil Khoda, a resplendent in his Indian Blues, showed up with a bouquet of pink tiger lilies at the Mother Dairy booth where I stood in queue with a stainless-steel doodh ka dolu on my arm. Really corny stuff. If anyone ever were to find out, the shame would kill me...'

Read and enjoy!

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