Hurt no more

 

At the age of 16, I developed this illogical theory with my super genius best friend. That the more you laugh today, the more tears you’ll have tomorrow. I don’t know if everyone treats life as business like that or it was just us with the twisted brains. However,  the older I got the theory was proven more right than wrong. Perhaps power of attraction. 

I am generally a positive person, with the outer appearance of a strong personality. Then why does Life screw up with me when I feel nothing could go wrong? Around this time last year, I was down with depression and anxiety disorder which  resulted making worst choices in life. I am finally getting over it by ending all the toxic indulgences and keeping some addictions at bay. I have quit the previous job which didn’t give me the happiness I’d want and settled in a new, much better job. 

Yes, I was finally happy with a home full of family members who await my arrival after work, weekends filled with healthy activities and much much lesser anxiety attacks. 

Up until last week. To be exact, four days ago. 

I never ever imagined the big C would appear in my family. I’ve read so much about every cancers out there, joked about carcinogens inappropriately, self-diagnosed my stupid headaches as brain tumors, reviewed plenty of leukemic children myself; but who knew one of my own will be down with it. That too at the tender age of four. 

The fear of awaiting diagnosis is real. The constant running thoughts about chemotherapy and it’s side effects are real. The occasional tears while driving or in bed is real. The power of self-assurance is real. The yearning for everything to be a bad dream is so real that it hurts to even breathe normally.

Those who are reading this, please say a prayer for a moment or two. For the little boy who is fighting cancer like the warrior that none of us could be.

The journey has started, and I’m hoping soon it will be a real bad dream for all of us and we could be happy again. 

 

Happy Birthday, Ellen Degeneres!

ABC's Portraits Of The 86th Annual Academy Awards Host Ellen DeGeneres

 

I often wonder : If I love women a little more than I love men, what does that make me? Gay straight or straight gay? No, this is not a post about me being confused about my sexual orientation, because that would mean apocalypse in a Tamil household. This is about the woman who makes me overwhelmingly happy and inspired. There are a few women who fit the bill, though there is one who tops the list: Ellen Degeneres.

When I googled for an image of her, I can’t choose the best picture. She looks fucking beautiful in every shot. Perhaps it’s the sparkle in her eyes that smiles along with her lips. She is the epitome of someone who smiles from her heart.

Though I started watching her some years back randomly through YouTube video-hopping, not until last year I realized how important she could be to people who are coping with crisis. I’ve watched tonnes of people speak how she made them laugh and overcome the pain they were going through – no joke at all.

Cancer, degenerative disorders, palliative care, depression, anxiety disorders, disability, death, divorce, poverty, pain, coming out – all these needs that one most important tool to cope : willpower to fight. She magically gives that. She gives that extra push that makes you believe there are things to fight for. That there is light at the end of the tunnel which is really really worth it.

Inspiring people is the least you could to anyone yet given at the right time, you’re doing wonders to change their life. When a person is feeling the lowest, reached the bottom of their life, thinking of how to end it – all they look for is a glimmer of light. Ellen was the light that helped me through my tunnel of darkness. When I was looking for a distraction, she was there. When I wanted to have something to look forward to in a day full of chaotic mind, she was there. When I was ready to cry for myself, she showed me it helps much more to cry for others. And when you are kind to one another, your pain disappears. If I get to meet her in person, I’d be one of those people who sob and sob and sob. And she’d be there hugging me like she knows me forever.

I believe in thoughts and mind power. I believe if I sync my whole thought process for a moment and channel it to the universe, the force reflects back to the one I am intending to.

So Ellen, on your birthday: I’m channeling all my energy to wish you a blessed birthday with prolonged healthy life and keep doing what makes you you. Keep being happy, keep being inspiring, keep getting into bucket lists and keep being Ellen. You could be sitting on  the same couch everyday but you are present whenever people need that glimmer of light. People see happiness in the monologues, the missed scripts, the spontaneous outbursts of laughs, sincere tears in your eyes, the awards you win, the winning speech that you make people proud to be your fan, the money you help others with, the moments you speak about Portia with sparkles in your eyes, the times you mention your back is getting better, your dance and most importantly You. Happy joyous Birthday! 

 

Dream – until it becomes true

I am an avid believer of dreams and keep the faith going. Almost all my life, there’s this phrase which rings so familiar to all the cells in my body.

If you want something so badly in life, the entire universe will conspire it to happen, somehow.

It is preached by Paulo Coelho in The Alchemist. The little shepherd boy taught me so much more than life itself could. It was the core of the movie Om Shanti Om, which made the movie stand up against the cliched theme.

Thus I dream. I dream so much that sometimes reality hurts. I dream so much that I am often wandering in my own world, trying to make the dream come true. I dream so much that sometimes I am scared of my own potential and almost give up.

Some 4 years ago, when I was in my fourth year of dental school, I dreamed of traveling to every nook and crook of Europe and Britain – preferably on my own. I made a folder about the continents, I had the ebooks downloaded and spent hours and hours planning trips that may not even materialize at that time. I dreamed of falling in love, traveling among the locals and then write down every detail in my journal.

Down the road, I had to graduate, save some money, lose myself in depression, fall in and out of love and let life take the negative course upon me and my dreams. But I kept the faith going. That things will not be the same forever. That I wont be a stagnant puddle for long, it’s just a phase and I will flow free again.

Today, right at this moment I am sitting in a coffee shop in Dubai International Airport. With a smile on my face, which may seem a little absurd to the fellow travelers – to see a girl on her own, typing abruptly on her laptop, smiling to herself.

Yes, I dream. And will keep dreaming. Because nothing else worth more than being overwhelmed of having your dream come true.

Icebreak.

It has been two years. I really can’t believe this. I can’t believe how I didn’t manage to write a single post decent enough to be posted in public. It’s not like I’m Rowling or Coelho or my writer ex boyfriend, who actually write substantial stuff but writing to me hold a significance. For example writing means being able to put my squabbling thoughts into strings of constructed sentences. It also means my English is still intact.

Thus to break this stupid ice, I am going to ramble about random things. Maybe updates – about me, about my friends, about my dog, about my non-existent social life, about Grey’s Anatomy. And get this hiatus done. So that I could unfreeze and write more often.

I moved out from my hometown, to a new sub-city. I rented my own place with a jacuzzi, which I personally feel overrated because my 3 year old nephew could count the number of times I was in it. No, scratch that. My nephew is a superhero who could count more than that. I had a king size bed all to myself, an open walk in closet, cooked some meals for myself and perhaps a date, had a privilege card to the bar I frequently visited, had my favorite by the window seat at my favorite coffee shop, regular massage parlor and memorized the stores in two malls before I moved back with my parents. I love Ipoh, it holds a very nostalgic place in my heart. But my liver is quite thanking me now, if you know what I mean.

I walked in and out of a few flings, one terrible relationship with even more horrible breakup. I sailed through some sessions with the shrink, though didn’t manage to finish them because honestly I just wanted the pills, not the talking sessions. I had sleeping disorders, eating disorders, keeping human contact disorders, but I was still kicking ass. Or that’s what I’d like to believe. Yes, I totally do. Self confidence is the key.

I had a fallout, with some people I never thought I would. They were once the most important people in my life. I called them my second family. All of a sudden, I went non-existent to them, and perhaps vice versa. The worst part of such fallout is the pain that creeps on you like a shadow, slowly blending into your daily life until you don’t realize it’s there anymore. The best part is, well – yet to come.

I have two favorite nephews now. One is three and ten months old while the other is a pile of 6 months. It’s incredible how much energy does a three year old toddler stores in his tiny tiny body. And it’s much more incredible how peaceful he looks while in his sleep. He nibbles on my ears at times, bites my cheek at other times and mostly he just screams away my name when I don’t lose to him in a wrestle battle. I didn’t know I love babies until I got these two handfuls and now I’m finding for father to my children rather than a husband. Quarter-life crisis starts exactly like this.

I went through my first year postings, and when this month ends, I’m completing my two years of compulsory service with the Ministry of Health. I’m sinking deeper into root canals and finding my happiness in building back broken cusps. I hear suction sound with each border molding and patients saying they feel much younger with their new set of teeth. I wear wedges to work because that reminds me of my mentor, who is basking her way in Manchester. I think the entire dental world is envious of her now.

My best friend is pregnant, due in January hopefully. Our daily conversations are about her swollen feet and her baby girl kicking ass in the tummy. I also got to know about Northern Lights and it has become my new bucket list now. Of course next to teaching Arshia’s baby some skills she needs in her later life. My another best friend is a masters student now with her first ever job to hold. She looks more gorgeous than ever, all thanks to the Californian sun she’s getting perhaps. All in all, thanks to Internet God, I still have my person(s) with me through thick and thin.

Some things haven’t change. I still wear my scrub pants to sleep, they’re still super comfortable. My dog still pretends to be scared of something we all can’t see just to get to sleep inside the house. Grey’s Anatomy is still an addiction, with or without Derek Shepherd. Oh by the way, I hate not having him around. I fucking hate Shonda for killing EVERY-Fucking-BODY. Later she’s gonna kill Meredith and call it No-Grey’s Anatomy. I’m still obsessed with Instagram and taking selfies, because let’s face it – I look great in my own photos. Or I just know my angles well. Like every other girl in this world.

It’s going to be Monday in an hour and I’m going to bed – because I’m an adult and know my priorities. Trying so hard to repeat that to myself so that I finally grow up before I reach my big thirty.

Grey’s Anatomy obsession.

By now I have declared to the world how much I’m obsessed with Grey’s Anatomy. I also have successfully introduced the series to a number of people in my life with the pretext : ” If you want more common grounds between us, you gotta catch my Grey’s references.” I too, shamelessly ignored texts with a reason as meek as “I’m watching Grey’s. My world has stopped.”

I am basically an emotional freak who cried for Cars when McQueen had to leave the town. But I have not cried for reality as much as I did for fictional characters of Grey’s. Oh, I did cry buckets for Sirius Black and Dobby and Fred Wesley but that is my past life.

Before I proceed, this post has SPOILER!!!  everywhere. From season 1 to the latest episode 19 of Season 10. So fans, please please please don’t read further and curse me. I can’t live with more bad karma. Also I’d hate myself if I spoil it for another fan.

My latest favorite constructive thing to do with my free time has been viewing quotes and edits on Instagram. It’s amazing how people take time to make those edits. And it’s even more amazing to relive the moments when you read them. Why is Grey’s so relatable to many of us? I believe Shonda is genius because she made characters which blend in us. I could find most characters somehow resemble some part of me.

Meredith is my favorite. Mainly because I am  that self-centered that I need the story to be revolving around me. Another example is Harry Potter as my favorite in the whole universe of Harry Potter. Also I really could relate to her in those earlier seasons. Until she became mother and distanced herself from who she used to be. Her mother issues are sometimes larger than life because she made it to be. She says she doesn’t want to be her mom yet somehow strives to be exactly like her. She says her days of trying to please her mom are behind her yet all she does is to get her approval in some twisted way. She has her own logic to everything, which usually doesn’t make sense and always involve tequila and overthinking. She is emotional but fights so hard not to be seen as a weakling. She lives in her own bubble not wanting to break it and let others in, but seeking for true love nevertheless. More than anything her attachment issues attracted me the most, which says a lot about my own personality disorder. So yes she’s much relatable. Or used to be.

As expected, Cristina is my second favorite. Though I admit she wasn’t that palatable in those earlier episodes. Not until she bonded with Mer. She is the perfect example of a strong willed woman who knows what she wants, who is aware her needs are beyond the usual horizon, yet works hard for it. She is determined and stands by her conviction no matter how messed up situations get. For example the whole Burke injured his hand crap. She makes worst decisions when it comes to love and relationships. I hated her with Burke. Mainly because she settled for him. She compromised who she was because she was vulnerable. Then she snapped out of it. She knows she’s a damsel in distress. I was out of the world when Owen carried her into the hospital following the icicle incident. She’s a Cinderella who refuses to admit she’s one. She doesn’t get involved easily but when she does she stands by it. She doesn’t leave because her partner has PTSD, she doesn’t walk away when her best friend moved on her life in another path, she doesn’t let anything stand between her and her dreams. She is Cristina Yang. I want to be her.

Will the world judge me if I say I am Mark Sloan in some way? Not the steamy one perhaps. Nor the  manwhore bit (?!). But all the other endearing parts of his.  He was self conscious. He was comparing himself to his best friend. He never felt he was a good enough man so he masked it with his Casanova alter ego. He was so afraid of love so he chose to turn his back. Until it hit him right on the face, in the form of Lexie. His sense of humor is out of the world. People can’t dislike him for too long. He definitely deserved better than what happened to him. Thus I only cry for a few minutes each time Mark Sloan or Lexie Grey is mentioned.

I could relate to many other characters too. Like the chirpy bright Arizona, dancing in underwear Callie, trauma stricken Owen etc. Except for one.

Derek Shepherd.

Because well it’s Derek who is all dreamy and surreal. He’s the knight in shining armour, all responsible and convicted, stays by rules, supportive no matter what, starts every surgery saying ‘It’s a beautiful day to save lives’, and has the perfect hair ever. He’s perfect.

I want my Derek Shepherd served on a plate please. Handcuffed to the posts of my bed.

Thankyouverymuch.

Happy Birthday You.

image

For the late nights.
For the super duper early mornings.
For the ridiculous crap texts.
For the random hearts.
For the persistence and perseverance.
For supporting and always being there.
For annoying the crap out of me.
For giving me spontaneous smiles.
For the inspiration to write.
For the rhythm to dance.
For the eyes that never get tired of watching.
For the magic that never faded.

Happy Birthday J.

You are the best randomity that striked me so
far. 

Just Imagine.

You thought you had your life planned out. You fight hard to remain where you are. Or so you thought you had fought hard enough. You have found the right light to shine through your path. Or so you thought the ray is enough. You adjusted your needs to match the counterpart’s. Or so you thought compromise is the key. You lit up a fire in you hoping it will keep burning. Or so you thought the fire doesn’t need oil to keep it from burning out.

How wrong you were. Though it took one random day to slap the realization into you.

Or one night.

A night that literally topples your existing routine.

Ridiculously thrilling. Stupidly time freezing. Pettifully significant. Patronizingly uninhibited.
Change is inevitable. Change is unstoppable. Change is progress. Welcome each change that steps into your life, be it invited or otherwise. Be grateful to each wave that topples your boat because each time you get back on the boat, you may change course of direction. Sometimes you may sit and listen down all the waves that changed you. Sometimes all the pointers encompass around a single iceberg. Usually your own happiness.

Happiness is subjective. For some, deep things like giving hair wash for the homeless makes them happy.  For some seeing the fuel meter show full.

For a dentist, perfectly shaped access cavity and reaching full working length in first attempt thrills them. For a fantasy lover,  Aladdin bringing Jasmine on a magic  carpet ride makes her happy.  For an internet freak, full mobile signal makes her happy. For a girl with her bffs across the  continent, perfect Viber call quality makes her happy.

Do not regret doing anything that made you happy.  Do not feel ashamed you let vulnerability take hold of you.  Do not resent the reason behind your good night peaceful slumber.