Life update: two

Hey!


In the post – 365 – I announced that I’m going to post a life update on the 16th of every month. You can skip it altogether if you’re not interested in anything but poetry. I didn’t realize that yesterday was the 16th of January and so I missed my life update. I’m super sorry and here it is: my second life update.


Well, it’s time to disconnect. I believe there are three things every writer wants to their name by the time they’re 60: a nice book, a great song, and love. A few months ago, I decided it was time for the first of three. I already have the character sketches and outline written but I wanted to be in the right mind space before I started with the writing process. I’ve wanted to get away since my tenth-grade finals got over. I have traveled and been to places for work but never with the intention of ‘isolating’ myself from the world.

On the 21st, I leave for Mumbai, one of the busiest city of India. For those of you who haven’t heard stuff about Mumbai, here’s a quick guide – a) It is filled with people and b) It is super driven. Some would call it the New York of India. Why did I choose a place filled with people to isolate myself from people? For the drive every artist feels when they stay in Mumbai. I’ll go to deserted parts of the city and stay alone but I want the city’s energy, the city’s rhyme and reason to push me forward.

(I will keep posting, though. Every Monday, Thursday and Saturday as promised)

Other than that, I’ll list a few things going on in my life as of now. Tell me what’s going on in your life in the comments section below.

First, I’ve been super obsessed with the word ‘super’ lately but not much by words in general. It isn’t writer’s block or laziness, I think. It’s just that your words seem to hold a lot more value to me than mine lately, which is a good thing. I’ll be back on track soon.

Second, I’ve been listening to a lot of songs lately. My favorite has been ‘Kiss me’ by Ed for a long time now but I’m open to suggestions.

Third, I have a shitty routine but I’ve been working on it lately. It’ll get much better after the Mumbai trip but yeah. I guess all of us have shitty routines at one point in our lives.

Fourth, Cinematography has been calling out to me lately. I’m definitely going to try my hand at it and see where it goes. One thing is certain, I’ll definitely up my Instagram game with it soon enough (so you might want to follow :P).

Fifth, there’s this yearly fest in India called Spoken Fest where writers, singers, YouTubers, and other famous creative artists perform for a huge crowd every year. I haven’t been to one to see yet, but I do hope to perform in Spoken 2020. One of my resolutions. What are yours?

I’m sorry this was so long. I hope you liked it! Keep reading. I’ll post a poem this Saturday. See you then 🙂

Tomorrow’s a new day.

This one is for new beginnings.

(You might want to skip this if you don’t want to read about me. Thank you for coming here, though)

Before I tell you all about my journey, you should know that I am not the son of an army officer who has to wear uniforms and smell like good-byes. I am also not the son of a business tycoon who travels often and migrates with a suitcase filled with his family to wherever the market is looking good.

My father is just what he is supposed to be, a father. He does what he thinks will be best for his children. But every now and then, you can also see a small hint of a nomad if you look deep enough into his eyes. That’s how it began, by being a father and a nomad.

I was very young and in Delhi when my father got a wonderful job opportunity in Dubai and he had to leave us behind to go. Even worse, we had to shift to Chennai while he worked hard and became a warrior in the corporate world, fighting for peace and a beautiful house for his family to live in.

As a six-year-old in Chennai, I remember three things. Kinder joy, Jim Jam, and games. Of course, there’s the occasional ‘Remember that’ moment, but that’s usually just nostalgia and my mom talking. Eventually, we moved to Dubai.

I don’t remember much about the experience of my first flight except that I never even realized the plane took off because I was too busy eating. I spent almost five years over there, with Coke bottles, Indian food, and my best friends. But the obvious thing happened when I, personally, least expected it. My parents decided that it was time for the kids to learn what India was all about, and what better place to learn that than Delhi?

Because I was older, I don’t remember things about my time there that I wish I did. But then there is also the curse of being a human, which basically means I remember a few things that I don’t want to hold on to. My first heartbreak, first vodka shot, and my first poem have the same person and place in it. The same girl, and the same city. How can Delhi not be special for introducing me to love and Poetry? I called it home.

Three years into the best years of my life, we had to shift again. It is kind of obvious at this point because my family tends to do everything a bit too much, but this time was different. I knew what home felt like, I knew how a group of friends can be better than four walls and how disco lights can drive the darkness away.

For the first two years in Gujarat, I missed home. I wrote poetry on love and social issues but never on home because it was too damn hard. It got worse when distance took its toll on my friendships and I had fewer people to talk to as time went on. I developed commitment issues, and insecurities of my body and everything around it.

My life became a big coin flip and I had a very short span of time to call heads or tails, to call alive or existing. I don’t know what I chose, honestly.

One day, it all became okay. The nomad gene inside of me kicked in, and I promise you it is the best pain-killer/antibiotic ever. I still have atelophobia, and I still have insecurities but it’s easier to accept that now. I did not make best friends again, but I never stopped making memories.

I made my home but it wasn’t four walls or a group of friends, or two arms and a heartbeat. It was blurry memories, nostalgic smiles, and poetry. It took time but it was worth it. Stay strong.

Have a great year starting from whenever you read this.