Home, I Will Miss You…

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90s Kids, Anjali Mariam Paul copyrights, Apartment, Chennai, Home, Life, Love, memories, Misguided Wayfarer, nostalgia, Querencia, Sreshta, Writing

I know that by the time I wake up, the morning pooja of our neighbours downstairs would have begun ringing through the apartment. I know that a waft of jasmine will be in the air because someone would have just plucked them and very soon, the smell of coffee will invade my nostrils and the rhythmic sound of feet tapping the wooden floor from the Bharatnatyam School next door will gradually set the mood for all of us. Sadly, it dawns on me that I won’t be home to experience all this tomorrow morning because I’ll be far away from familiarity and closing in on alien ground very soon and there is this indescribable ache which has started somewhere in my chest.

I was running around my apartment over the past few days and as I bumped into the resident auto driver, Subramaniam and greeted him with an “Neenge eppidi irrikinge?” (How have you been keeping?), old grandmothers chatting and talking, neighbour aunties asking what I’ve been upto and how much I’ve grown, how my friends were… I felt safe and protected. I knew that within the four walls of my apartment, the world couldn’t hurt me. If you’ve stayed in an apartment, you know how everything you do is scrutinised be it a friendship with the opposite gender, a new piercing, bad habits (they’re waiting to see you fall so that they can parade how their children are better than you), good habits (they’ll lecture their children to become like you), what time you come back home, what you eat, where you go, what you wear… the list is endless!! These neighbours are also those aunties who will give you cold water when you’ve been locked out of your house, lend you money to buy ice-cream when your parents aren’t home and babysit/help with your homework when working mothers get caught up. These aunties are those that soothed you when you lost your child to cancer and helped you move on gingerly. These aunties are those that got competitive when playing table tennis and made unwarranted comments about your playing but they were also the same aunties who patted you on your back when you did well in your exams.

I’ve had many of my most memorable moments in this apartment, which may sound silly to many who’ve never stayed in an apartment before. To begin with, you’re famous because nearly everyone knows who you are and your name will be yelled at the top of their voices on many occasions, like when they’re outside your apartment and you’re doing your homework (it helps when your parents don’t let you out often, sometimes they just let you go to stop the yelling!), your parents will definitely be informed if you’ve broken windows or banged up cars (eh… don’t even ask!) and yes, the all famous… ‘whose got a crush on who’ phase when the entire apartment would be informed, within a few minutes of that secret being let out to that ONE confidant. I used to babysit kids when their parents pretended they had a social life for a few hours everyday, watched them have fights, soothed their wounded hearts when other kids wouldn’t play with them and kept them happy and smiling. I would stand guard when my friends did unspeakable things on the terrace (remember the bad habits?) and I have easily helped out at least 3 friends with their record diagrams because… that’s what friends did back then!!

My flat friends are either studying abroad, engaged, married and parents to children and it seems so wrong that we’re not children anymore. We’re not still worrying about marks or whether our white canvas shoes were polished or whether our friends would love the new pencil box you bought. Strangely enough, we still keep in touch through Facebook and it’s wonderful raking up these wonderful memories which make our apartment, the perfect home to so many of us.

My grandmother from the neighbouring building would be out on her evening walk on the terrace and she could see every single thing I was upto here. I know they would never admit it but I think this was an intentional act to check up on me and it used to be tedious having to explain to her why some boy had his arm around my shoulder, when honestly it would have been nothing but friendly. I missed my ammachi a bit then when I looked up at the terrace and didn’t see her there and it made me a little sad, knowing that those days are gone. Our apartment complex have these benches where I’ve cried my eyes out to Karthik who has been my closest friend since I was 13 or 14, I think over broken hearts and bad grades and those small things seemed so enormous and life threatening then. And now… even though out relationship has been nothing but platonic, the aunties wonder when we’re getting married to each other.

I used to hate their inquisitive nature but once you’ve moved around a lot, stayed in a lot of hostels where you were close to invisible, an aunty asking you why you look so tanned isn’t as bad as you’d think. An aunty commenting on how your dressing sense has changed over the years makes you wonder how much they really noticed about you and how much they care. If you’re ever faced with the decision of choosing an apartment over a house, I would suggest you choose an apartment every single time because as invasive as we might think they are… they actually have your back!!

Picture courtesy: http://www.craftshub.com

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When 2016 Comes To Shove…

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2016, Anjali Mariam Paul copyrights, Bangalore, Blogging, Happy New Year, INDIA, Inspirational, Karnataka, Love, Misguided Wayfarer, Photography, Querencia, Writing

Picture Copyrights: Anjali Mariam Paul

Sometimes, the road less travelled by ensures that you get lost, fracture a leg, break down and lose your sanity, amongst other things. Things get better as everything is momentary, nothing is permanent. What is water today might be ice tomorrow… It all depends on how long we want to wait it out and see what we make out of life’s obstacles and challenges. Learn to respect everyone around, be it a 5 year old child or a cow on the road. Your perception of the world doesn’t necessarily need to be anyone else’s and your right of opinion is just the same as anybody else’s. Be kind, as you never know whether your mere presence, your smile or your words could be the altering point in someone’s life. Don’t waste time being mean because that time could be spent in falling in love with a new song or a new book or a new concept. Eat what you want, when you want and how you want despite how you think you’ll look in those figure hugging jeans. It’s not worth giving up that yummy sinful looking piece of chocolate cake. Live everyday like it’s a special day because you never know when it’s going to be your last.

Write about Hitler if it makes you happy, do a nude sketch of someone if that’s your thing, travel to unknown places if you want to, click selfies to cherish every moment if you’re scared you’ll forget it… just stop worrying about anybody else. You are you and you have every right to be YOU!

Don’t try and be somebody else because there is nobody as unique as YOU! Wear clothes which you’re comfortable in, do things you want to do and most importantly… learn to say NO.

Tell your friends and family how much you love them every chance you get because they deserve to know how much they mean to you. Finally, love with no conditions because you’d rather have loved with a whole heart and lost than not loved at all.

A new year asks for new beginnings and here’s mine to being the childish, immature, spontaneous, gluttonous and silly ME!

Travel Diaries – Pondicherry

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2014, Anjali Mariam Paul copyrights, Beach, Chennai, INDIA, Journal, Life, Love, March, Pondicherry, Querencia, South India, The Misguided Wayfarer, Tourist Locations, Travel Blog, TRAVELOGUE

 

“The ocean stirs the heart, inspires the imagination and brings eternal joy to the soul.”- Wyland

I don’t know and whether it is because I have been brought up in a coastal city or because I have an affinity towards water but sitting by the ocean is one of my most favorite pastimes. If I am upset over something, am extremely happy or even angry at someone… a few minutes staring at the waves crashing against the shore calms my mind. The tyrant waves make me feel secure as if their violence is an answer to all the injustice that is going in the world and well especially with me. It recedes long enough to keep me wondering whether it is going to come back and wash me away and yet… it comes back and doesn’t unsettle me in most ways.

This trip to Pondicherry and I had my date with the beach… just the waves beating against the rocky shore and my troubled mind. I was calmed by those raging waves and I realized how much I missed the ocean staying in a land-locked city.

I had been sick for over a year and just a weekend at the beach made me feel absolutely alright again (of course, home also played a big part). The ocean has mysterious powers which none of us will ever be able to comprehend. Now, I only wish I owned a house near the ocean so that I could wake up to this every morning… some day… one day… Until then… these small little moments of joy will suffice…

Home Sweet Home

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Anjali Mariam Paul copyrights, Blog, Bloggers, Chennai, Family, Grandparents, Home, Journal, Life, Love, Madras, memories, nostalgia, Querencia, Small things, The Misguided Wayfarer

It has been a while since I posted because I have been sick and had to head home to be checked up. All is well, apart from the weakness which will soon wear off as the medication’s effects kick in. I am home after nearly a year and the house I left behind isn’t mine anymore. To begin with, there is no room which has all my belongings which I can look at and reminisce about the past, just some trophies and awards gathering dust and cobwebs on top of the pelmet. Soft toys which look like tanned versions of themselves as there is a layer of dirt over them, books hidden away in cupboards so that things which are needed everyday can be at an arm’s reach. The smells are not familiar… nothing is and it bothers me.

I am in all honesty, living out of a suitcase and my present place of stay will also soon be packed up as I am moving out again when I head back. I am a nomad, in all sense of the word and I can’t seem to express how much it bothers me that I don’t have a single place which I can call home.

I was telling a friend how it is nice to have a bed which you can call your own to come back to and he laughed. I don’t know whether he was laughing because he got me or because he thought I was thinking too much about it. Think about it for a second won’t you?! You have no place to go back to where there is familiarity because you’ve either moved around too much or you have siblings who have converted your bedroom into something unrecognizable that you are left stranded in the middle of your house… looking for your home?!

I dumped my stuff there and headed to my granny’s place where I have memories of so many things even though there is nothing here that is mine. Every room holds a memory where I would hide in my grandpa’s closet and steal coins from his coin box… the bathroom I got locked in when I would be naughty… the mirror I would sit in front of and have my grandmother comb my hair… the shelf I would climb to get to the books on the very top… the door which would jam up and leave me locked inside for hours… a house which has nothing of mine but has every single memory of mine entwined and sealed forever. I sleep on the same bed I shared with my grandparents till I was 10… I would sleep in-between them and kick them as I rolled around in bed listening to my grandfather’s snores and granny’s heavy breathing… I wish I could explain the happiness I feel as I make this entry feeling so at home in a house which is not really my own… but still a place that I can call my very own… 

GANGRENE

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Anjali Mariam Paul copyrights, Despair, Gangrene, Heartbreak, Hopeless, INDIA, INSPIRATION, Jaipur, Life, Loss, Love, Pain, Querencia, Sorrow

“I think I made you up inside my head.” – Sylvia Plath

I haven’t written about heartbreak in a while because I have been trying to hide it and tell myself that the more I write about it, the more evident it is that I’m shattered… thus ruining my chances of ever moving on. It doesn’t really make a difference. I am still upset. I am still hurt. I am still betrayed. Mails which have been typed out, some saved away as drafts and others deleted. Nothing seems to be helping the pain. The headaches persist which are now accompanied with chest pain now and then. I think this is actually what heart ache must feel like.

I stare out of windows for something, anything which will distract me long enough for the pain to subside but to no avail. I am still alone, miserably upset with myself for allowing something like this to happen again. It is so easy to end something and then pretend feeling hurt about your decision, when in all reality it is nothing short of cowardice. I am still fighting a battle with no opponent on the other side. I wonder if any of you know how that feels like?!

You talk to yourself so often that you are numb to the emotions that should normally shock you and make you weep. You are so engulfed in a pain so real and yet so surreal that you just want to jump to the next level. A friend was explaining how I need to jump to the next level… but how do I jump when I haven’t won and entirely completed the previous level?! I am still wounded, mentally and emotionally… looking for that constant when there is none. I have no fight left in me. I have tapped myself dry of all the inner strength there is. I have turned to God for answers.

I lie awake in bed for hours just waiting for the pain to pass but it doesn’t. I can’t smile with my whole heart anymore because the damage is just too deep. Never ever let your guard down… Never ever…

Time will heal all wounds… they say… not gangrene… that just gets worse with time until you need to amputate it. Cut my heart out won’t you?! Replace it with a new one, which will be ready to fall in love but only to the right person this time. No more games. No more waiting around. Just love which will make your tummy flip inside out and make you giddy inside. I wonder if it is still out there and whether I will ever find it?! I wonder if there is enough in me to forgive and forget, and move on… I wonder…

Picture courtesy: http://www.besthomecaremn.com/

Let Your Light Shine

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Anjali Mariam Paul copyrights, Beautiful, Hotel Lebua, INDIA, INSPIRATION, Jaipur, Life, Light, Love, Photography, Photography lovers, Querencia, Quotes, Shadow, Shine

“She stood there mesmerized by the light streaming through the wall; it was beauty magnified right there. I wondered whether I would ever build something as ingenious as this space. I still wonder. It was just light but the way it danced on the floor made me come alive. Such magnificent light tucked away in the middle of nowhere waiting to be discovered and it made me smile. There is that light in each of us, if only we would let it shine.” – Me

Kindness From Strangers

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Anjali Mariam Paul copyrights, Friends, INDIA, INSPIRATION, Jaipur, Kindness, Life, Love, Querencia, Strangers

I read a copy of the Reader’s Digest after a really long time and I came across some beautiful articles penned down about absolute strangers who came to people’s rescue. This made me realize that there is still some good left in this world and that there are millions of people who are benefited by these small acts of kindness. I have also had absolute strangers come to my rescue and I want to tell you all about this one incident.

A few colleagues and I had gone to Jawahar Kala Kendra a month ago to celebrate a friend’s birthday and while we were leaving, we decided to visit the mela which was happening right next door. It was a beautiful mela with so many tiny things from all across the country and after we had done our minimal shopping (read enough to keep me satisfied for a month), we decided to head home.

There were four of us who stayed in the same area and wanted to get one rickshaw back and as usual, went around haggling with the different auto-walahs. I have a problem with letting the auto guy have the last laugh so there is a lot of drama which goes on behind getting into an auto at a said price and as I continued with this so called award winning performance by walking to another auto guy, I fell into a ditch on the road. This was mighty hilarious and serious at the same time because I fell in knee deep and just missed banging my head on the pavement when I made my brilliant landing. As my friends tried to pull me out, all the while trying not to laugh and be concerned about broken bones, I was laughing uncontrollably. I somehow managed to stand up straight and I must say that my layer of thermals saved the day because I was almost left unscathed with just a few painful joints and aches. I got up and then proceeded with my theatrics by crossing the road and attempting to flag down an auto, much to the amusement and absolute awe of the multitude of people who had gathered around me.

When I had almost crossed over, this one auto guy and his son, I presume agreed to take us home at the price I had haggled for. I smiled to myself thinking that my injury saved the day but no, this is not the kindness I refer to. We dropped off our friends on the way and as we were moving close to our house, I realized that the pain in my hand was sort of increasing and that I might need to get to a hospital at once. Nivi looked for the hospital which my other friends Divya and Sasha had told us about, on her google map and we headed to this hospital at 10 in the night, in that same auto.

I was in pain and I was mighty excited about going to a hospital and being taken into the emergency (I have my very many quirks and this is one of them). This hospital was not really very close to where we stayed and it was a good 25 minutes away from where we were. The auto guy without any protest took us all the way there and when we got out to pay, the duo asked for not a penny more than what I had initially haggled for. I remember the pain I was in and I remember the look Nivi and I shared as we both thanked them in unison for their kindness. Before we could even think about paying them more money, they had sped off. 

I only ended up getting a few injections on both my hips and laughing for the remainder of the journey home with Nivi (morphine makes you feel happy, I think). You must understand that Nivi’s kindness must also not go unnoticed because she was there the whole time and even spent the night, thinking that I might need someone there.

I remember sitting in that hospital bed, getting two shots and thinking to myself how blessed I was to have such wonderful and caring people around. Our other friends who told us which hospital was closest, were waiting for a call from us to tell them whether to make that long drive from where they stayed.

Gratitude is important but most importantly, kindness almost always goes unnoticed. Thank you!! I only hope that I can help when you are in need. To those kind auto drivers, THANK YOU!!

Much love,

Anjali

Sketch copyrights: iyermatter.wordpress.com

Querencia

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Anjali Mariam Paul copyrights, Anjali Paul, Emotional, Finding oneself, Heartbreak, Hurt, INDIA, Indian, Inspirations, Issues, Jaipur, Life, Loneliness, Love, Pain, Querencia, Quotes, Sorrow

“What is really scary is running naked inside yourself, revealing the real you.” – Wes Adamson

The past few weeks have been the worst for me, emotionally and mentally exhausting and I kid you not when I say this… I realized that I am weak in spirit and in everything else. I have always looked at myself as the epitome’ of strength and solidarity and in the past few weeks, I found myself crumbling to pieces as I watched on. I broke and amalgamated into such a form that the person staring at me in front of the mirror with dark circles and blotchy skin was an absolute stranger to me. I had constant headaches which would begin the moment I opened my eyes and lasted till I went to bed. Sleep was something I dreaded because it brought me dreams just to torture me some more. It got so bad that I needed to get medical help and I am taking pills for stress.

I was asked to stay away from work to get my act together because they couldn’t bear to see me lose control over every inch of my body. I took the day off and watched a movie alone at the theater today; a movie which ran just for me because nobody else wanted to watch a movie in the middle of the afternoon. I cried in that theater with rats for company and let all my inhibitions of being lonely break in front of my eyes. I wasn’t ashamed of my loneliness or my weakness but ashamed that I was willing to give up. My family and a few friends have been the pillar of strength these past few weeks and I loved them for caring but I just wanted to be left alone to pick up the pieces and become whole again.

It isn’t easy trying to battle out your emotions and face yourself for the true flawed human being you are… no shades or branded clothes are going to cover up the loneliness and sadness you feel and I learnt to embrace that today. I am my own strength and I found it in me today, a part of it at least as I watched a movie about two people finding themselves. I am not upset over heartbreak or a person who I believe caused that… I am upset at myself… I stopped loving myself. I stopped spending time with myself and enjoying my own company. I stopped caring about what I thought of myself and my actions and kept living for the world.

I still have a long way to go and I know that I will see it through the very end, give it every bit of my last fight… not crumble to bits at something as small as someone leaving. Life is honestly too short to live it for anyone else but myself. I looked at myself in the mirror today and I saw for the first time in a really long time… me.

My blog has been yet another appendage to me and I felt that I needed to rename her as she is nothing but my thoughts and my strength put into words. I knight thee… “Querencia”!!

(In Spanish, “querencia” describes a place where one feels safe, a place from which one’s strength of character is drawn, a place where one feels at home)

Slumming It

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Anjali Mariam Paul copyrights, Blog, Blogger, INDIA, INSPIRATION, Jaipur, Journal, Life, Love, Photos, Slums, Squatter Settlements, Street life, Streets, The Misguided Wayfarer, Travel, Truth, Writing

It is strange how one can feel so helpless and powerless being educated sometimes. I am at the Baba Ramdev Nagar Slums and I watched children who have no bright future given as a gift to them… dream and work towards making that a reality. It is Republic Day here in India (26th January, 2014) and we hoisted the National Flag, sang the National Anthem and celebrated this historic day by dancing and distributing sweets. This squatter settlement is one of the densest in the city and comprises of people from different regions and states. The students who have gone to school have never made it beyond the 8th grade in the past 20 years. It makes my heart bleed to know that I can’t do even half of what is expected of us as a society to help.

There is always a major cause which we choose to close our eyes to and it is an issue which needs to be addressed today. Nivi befriended a little boy  (Dinesh) today who says he doesn’t go to school because his mother died and his father drinks a lot. His only caring relative is his grandmother and it takes his earnings to make their ends meet. He is 12 years old. Nivi spoke to a few people in charge and starting tomorrow, he will be back to school.

This is one story of one individual in one Urban Deprived Community. There are thousands like this boy who work and learn the meaning of life the hard way. Are we even aware of the existence of an entire class of people who are living below the poverty line? Numbers and graphs don’t matter because as long as it isn’t causing a nuisance to us in any way, it is something which hasn’t gotten serious enough yet.

We walk past them on an everyday basis and we choose not to look. The clothes and shoes we wear, the bags we own… ever wondered who makes them? Factories employ children as their labor is cheap and sometimes they aren’t even paid full wages even though they do twice the amount expected from them. We skip past the major stages of production and manufacturing and just enjoy the part we like… shopping from malls.

I don’t really know what I expect people to do after they read my entries but I wish you would make a conscious effort to actually open your eyes to the world that is around you; the world which makes yours function. Think about the boy who is bringing milk to your doorstep before you even wake up or the little girl who stands in for her mother when she is ill or for the family who does your ironing down the street… What about the boy who is selling you smokes at the end of the road or the one who makes an extra effort to get you kulfi at a restaurant when he really needn’t have traveled 2 km to get you that…?! They are around you and me… every single minute of every day… Have you ever once stopped and asked if they go to school? We have such busy lives that we tend to forget… I know I do! I want to make a change to this uncaring world and I want you to join me in this attempt at making a difference.

Can we make a simple promise to ourselves that we will make sure that at least one child we see on the street in the future… starting today, see the likes of a school?! All it takes is for you to stop, stand and stare… Our country has a long way to go but we have to believe in a cause to make a difference?! Can you be that change?!

P.S. Thank you, Divya and Sasha for coming up with this brilliant idea of spending the day with them 🙂

Picture courtesy for the beautiful smiles that you see: Nivedita Menon (Nivi)

Picking Up The Pieces

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Anjali Mariam Paul copyrights, Blog, Blogger, Children, Education, Heartbreak, INDIA, Indian, INSPIRATION, Inspirational, Jaipur, Journal, Kids, Life, Love, memories, Picking Up The Pieces, Rajasthan, Relationships, School, soulful writing, Teacher, The Misguided Wayfarer, Writing

Spot the teacher 🙂 

I have been teaching these children for the past 6 months and every single one of them know me better than I will ever know myself. They have the ability to read my thoughts and feelings as much as I try to mask it with fake smiles and laughter. I have been having the worst few weeks in the past month and the only reason I snapped out of it as quick as I did were these angels.

I am crying over a broken heart when they are laughing at homes where there is no electricity, sweaters which have seen better years, shoes which let the ground kiss their feet at every step, drunk fathers, abusive family members, chauvinists who believe that a girl’s place is at home, homes where they wake up at 4 to make rotis for their families with those tiny little hands, mothers who they save from getting beaten up during ugly brawls, baby sisters and brothers who die of malnutrition and illnesses because they can’t afford any better… They love so unconditionally that it makes me feel that I don’t and never will the actual meaning of this word. People talk about having moments of revelation and all that while going through bad phases and I think I just had mine.

Their punctuality to school with those ever smiling faces despite their hardship makes me feel that my problems are absolutely minuscule and self inflicted. They have seen more of life than I ever will in the short 8 years of their lives and do they cry about it? No. They laugh it off as though it were just another phase of life. Respect.

Life isn’t fair. I can either choose to cry about it or pluck up the courage and face it head on. These children have come into my life to teach me how to pick up the pieces and God knows, I will.

This picture was taken on a day when I had cried all night, had puffy eyes and felt my worst. I had tears streaming down my face as these children hugged me and kissed me, with so much love that I didn’t want to let them go. They are honestly sent from heaven; there is absolutely no doubting that. 🙂 My little guardian angels.