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Two days ago

Two days ago was Friday, and Fridays are fun. I like the notion of weekends, where in you can kick back and enjoy the fruits of the week that went by. I didn’t understand it when Mom tried explaining to me when I was younger that I cannot enjoy something if I have not worked for it. Normally Friday night is spent catching up on the latest movie in the cinema with friends and chatting away till the wee hours. This Friday I came back from work a bit late due to some trials that I had to do to understand something. I have this huge bathtub in this new apartment I have rented with a friend and I thoroughly enjoy it. I lay in it as it filled up with cold relaxing water. Since it was a particularly tiring day, I filled it up till only my nose was above the water so that I could breathe. It is a wonderful feeling, everything just goes silent. Then slowly you can hear your own body, your heart and lungs pumping, the blood flowing. Soon the environment follows and I can hear sounds from the home below: a trace of the song the kid is head banging to, clanging of some vessels and I wonder what is being cooked.


This Friday most of the friends that live nearby were away for some reason, but I was not alone. I spend the time talking away with a friend on the phone. (Such a wonderful thing the phone is, I take it for granted some times. No matter where I am, I can message, talk, surf and do many more things with it. A wonderful thing about the people I like is that I can talk to them for hours. Sometimes it’s just being with them, not talking, just being.) Talking away till either of us feels sleepy or bored. Friday evening was also spent drinking ice cold water as the cold wind blew in from the window. I first noticed the ice cold water in The Big Bang Theory in one of the episodes where they are eating at the cheese cake factory. A glass of water filled with cubes of ice and then water in whatever space is left.

So what did you do two days ago?

This is response to WEEK #57 (6-17-12 to 6-23-12): Two Days Ago at GBE 2
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If I Had My Life to Live Over…

The logic of this always makes me think. If I go back and change things would I continue to do things the same way I would have done, or do them differently based on the new insights I would obtain from the change. Doing so would also put others around me at a disadvantage, since I am changing what I had done with a fore knowledge of the original outcome to a new way which comes to happen in a result I want or is to my advantage. So hypothetically speaking, let us talk about high school, and I go back to study better and get more marks so that I can enter in better college. Not only now it is easier to prepare for exams because what I had found difficult at that time is much easier for me now, but I have more motivation to do so. Now that I get more marks, I jump over few people who otherwise would have been getting this better college. So I am taking from them what they had, and make it mine.

So for all major effects of my changes do I end up creating alternate realities? And there could multiple realities out there each with a different version of us where we are better, worse or just different people in different scenarios created by our actions. I tend to look back at some of the more difficult times I had, and what I learned from them. If I am to go back and undo that time, since I end having not gone through that time would I buckle under another difficult situation which I would sail through right now?  
Moving on, I guess things broadly come under to categories: What I wanted/should have done and didn’t do, and what I shouldn’t have done and I did. So here goes:

What I should have done:
  • Not given up volleyball. I used play volleyball regularly in my high school up till college started. Now I wasn’t all athletic and slim, but I was fitter. I could run more without panting, had quicker reflexes and it was something that I was good at and enjoyed doing.
  • My hair. Till college I had this wonderful long hair that came till my shoulders and I would tie in to a ponytail at times. Then something happened that it started to fall around. I would get that checked out


What I shouldn’t have done:

  • Spent so much money in cafes and pizzerias. I love coffee, and I love pizza. So when I started earning, I started frequenting pizza places and cafes. I used to spend loads over there. An entire day in the café with a book to finish and movie to watch and cups of my favorite coffee to give me company. Coming back from work to a dish of hot pizza or taking it back and keeping it in the fridge to enjoy the cold fridge pizza the next day. And in turn these became my habits, which I have after some conscious effort put under some control. Those are good times, but now that I think of it, all that money could have been saved and used for other purposes.
What I don’t want to change:
    • Asking a friend out. Some time ago in a discussion with a friend I was asked if I wanted to change it. I have this friend whom I asked out, and she said no. I mean you cannot force someone to reciprocate what you want. Of course initially it was difficult to take it in. I had just accepted the idea that she would say yes because it would be me asking. But I have a sense of clarity about it, a certainty. I will not be lost in thinking of what if scenarios that should I have asked her, would she say yes and if she would have had yes, how different things would be. Sometimes nothing beats a sense of clarity
    Edited to add:

    What I want to live through again:

    How can I forget about this. Long time back after meeting a friend, I had written: “There are moments that you wish you can capture. Not just the visual memory of it, but the sounds, fragrances, sensations and the thoughts. A time bubble to revisit them again.” 

    If I had to live my life through again, I would want to live through these moments again. I don’t want to change anything about them and let go on through how they went, but experience them again

    • The first day I spent as a shift in charge at work. It dawned up on me, that now I run this place. That when there were problems it would be me who had to respond and take care of them. I was answerable for each and everything that was going on that day and that I could do it how I wanted to. The feeling was immensely pleasurable. 
    • One day while travelling from home to the hostel with friends my bag got stolen in the train, which contained some of my clothes and my monthly cash. And the next day when I woke up went to have  breakfast with friends. When it came to pay up, one of us paid for the group and didn’t ask me for my share knowing that my money was stolen.At that moment I felt a sickening feeling. He did it with all his good intentions, but I felt that as if I was handed over something, and that I could be better than this. How could I have done something stupid and get my bag stolen.
    • Spending time with Sonal. She had come back from america during a break, we spent some time in the chocolate room talking about things. We didn’t talk about something major, just the small little things.  Niyati was not expecting to be there and she had her mouth open when she opened the door of the cafe to see us sitting  there. Talking about the littlest of things with the best of friends, I enjoy them. 
    • When high school got over. I was told I was supposed to feel a wave of awe because of the big change. I waited. It never came. I smiled at this and went and met all the friends and teachers again for the last time. That day I realized that you can’t feel a sense of longing of something, if you never belonged to it in the first place. 

    Posted on by Santulan · 16 Comments

    Courage to face a lifetime

    He was feeling uneasy today, again. He had been feeling so for the last few days now. He stood up from his chair and walked towards his window to slide it open. The view was wonderful. In the night he could see all the houses ahead with their lights as stars on earth. In the far one could make out a power plant with its silhouette of more tiny lights, like a cluster of stars. This was one of his favourite sights, and on a particularly good day a cool breeze would blow across. Today it didn’t have the relaxing feel as it normally did. He looked at the book in his hand and wondered where he had gone wrong.

    He was reading Fountainhead when he paused upon a line. “He did not know that he had given someone the courage to face a lifetime..”. He brushed his hair with his hands as he thought of it. Courage. Courage had changed its meaning. It once meant walking across the hall in the dark, or crossing a street full of dogs on his own. Now it meant doing something to come out of where he was. Few weeks ago his mother had seen his bank statements. He had taken a loan some time back that was half way through. He hadn’t told her anything about it. Nor could he explain to her where he had spent it. In his defense he thought, he had taken the loan so that he would not have to take money from his mom for the expenses and investments that were due. But then he had no ways to explain how and where he had spent them away in the past few months, with some thing being bought every other day. It is a good thing he thought, that she hadn’t seen his credit card statements. That would have lead to hell, whatever of it was left to see.

    Things were sour between him and his mother before. If they didn’t get along that well before now was a miserable time. He didn’t blame her, she lived alone in a different city, and the fact that he didn’t trust her with things hurt her more. Every discussion would end up in an argument. He wanted to change how things were, but end up walking out of each argument with his fist clenched or biting his lips so that he would not speak something he would end up regretting later. It was not that his mother had raised him in poverty. They were a well to do family, but money was spent only on the necessary things. Now that he had a good job, the sudden influx of money made him spend at things he wouldn’t have spent before. Now that he thought of it, that money was only as good as the person who was controlling it. This is not who he wanted to be. He thought himself to be great, and now had only great mistakes.

    A week later after the first argument with his mother, he was almost run over by a car. He was walking around the park for some fresh air with his earphones on, trying to be away for some time. He didn’t pay attention to the car that was coming his way while crossing the road, but was lucky that the driver braked in time. It did give him ideas. He walked back to his home and picked up the chef’s knife. He had always admired it, all 8 inches of it with its smooth sharp blade. He was particularly fond of it as it cut vegetables of all sorts with great speed. He wondered if it could cut through his veins too with it. Maybe that would a way to end it all. He would not burn out as he had always thought, but would silently bleed through in the night. To be found later in the morning when his room mate would come back from his job. He took a moment for it to sink in, before the the horror of the very idea of taking his own life struck him. The knife fell with a clang as he began to take in deep breaths. The idea that he could even think of something like this was revolting.

    A month had now passed since that incident. He got back to reading from that line. He thought the line was right. He needed courage, courage to face a lifetime. And he had to find that courage in himself.

    This is in response to WEEK #53 (5-20-12 to 5-26-12): Pick a Line from a Book and Write from There. My entry is based on a line from The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand.

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    Written in Water

    There he lay
    His name written in water
    And the waves made from the name ebbed away,
    Touching the lass sitting little away on the bank,
    Writing her own name in water
    And then watch her name ebb away too.

    She sat there too
    Her hand still in water
    Now just moving
    And making random waves in it.
    The blowing wind catches her attention
    For it reminds her of a familiar scent,
    Making her wish she could smell it again.
    A smile escapes her lips,
    Stars light up in here eyes,
    And an odd form of beating begins in her breast.

    There she lay, her hand in water
    Writing a name not her own.
    She continues to stare in her own reflection
    Even after the name ebbs away
    The one closer to her than her own.
    She takes a deep breath
    So full of passion; so full of hope
    Giving her the strength
    To sit there and gaze at the water
    And find a face in it not her own.

    A rustle in the leaves and the sound of some steps
    And she turns around all euphoric
    For her wait is now over
    She puts her arms around him
    And they share each other’s essence.

    There he lay
    His name written in water
    And the waves made from the name ebbed away.
    He wondered who theses waves
    Would touch this time

    Posted on by Santulan · 7 Comments

    For you

    If you’re reading this, then this is for you…

    ———-For you———–
    Flickering every now and then,
    Your eyes are like the fireflies that dance
    To the joy of finding a partner.
    Joy is elusive of you,
    The tears that trickle down your cheeks
    Tear and pull your skin like the maelstroms.
    The clouds shall move in unison
    Flock over to where you are
    To kill the winds with their stagnancy.
    The rain will then pour
    Healing you with every drop
    That shall caress your soul.
    The rains will come for you.

    When the night grows thick and dark,
    Cocooning you in a sap of tranquility
    Making the air too thick to breathe,
    Suffocating you in your own breath.
    The moon shall shine bright,
    Its gleam subliming the envelop.
    The moon will come out for you.
    When the darkness of the night covers all
    Encompassing all around you,
    Laying difficulties in your path
    The stars will shine brighter
    Illuminating your path of Destiny
    And guide you like they did the Three Kings.
    The stars will shine for you.

    When storms are heading your way,
    And the skies prepare their arrows
    And let their electric weapons through,
    As the thunders and rumbles begin their vociferous march
    Coming forward in waves,
    Violating the borders of home.
    Causing the doors and windows to clatter in fear
    The sun will shine bright,
    Its rays purging the ominous clouds
    Creating an aura of protection around you.
    The sun will rise for you.
    Only For you.

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    Utopia

    Utopia, The word brings a flood of thoughts and imagery to me. For me Utopia is a place and time where everything is seemingly perfect. Where all senses are passions, when being yourself is a joy. I can imagine many such futures.

    The wind is blowing against my face and is caressing my hair as I stand on the top of ledge on a beach. I can still smell the sweet fragrance from the bed of flowers behind me, while my eyes feast on the beautiful array of colours that lies there. Rows of plants, flowers and fruits decorate the patch of land. Bees dance around the flowers intoxicated by the essence of the nectar, and tiny furry squirrels run up and down the trees squeaking merrily. The birds fly to their perch and sing songs; their music so touching and lifting that even has the flowers shaking their petalled appendages in rhythm.

    I can feel the wind’s gusts as I spread my hands and take a step ahead off the ledge. It’s a big fall and I land on the sands of the beach. I see a figure sitting there running her hands in the foam of the oncoming waves. She turns and smiles at me and waves me over. I walk towards to my love. She’s beautiful. Her long brown locks come down in curls near shoulders and go all the way to her waist. The sparkle in her deep green eyes is followed by mysterious blinking of her eyes. As we get nearer she gives me a mischievous smile and splashes water on my face. The cool water hits me and as if it were a carrier of her contagious mischief I start splashing water on her too. She gets up and rolls in to my arms. Her essence is invigorating and I slide my arms around her waist pulling her towards me. We stare in each others’ eyes and something takes us over and we kiss, her moist, soft lips providing comfort to me. She smiles and we sit down and let the waves drench our bodies, enjoying every wave together as it comes.

    Utopia is a world I believe that cannot exist, or rather we as humans do not deserve. We are way too diverse, too different to achieve it. Everyone has their different views and if those are different than the ones we have we tend to despise them. All of a sudden what matters more is the colour of the skin, the god we pray to, the place where we were born, or with whom we want to go for a hump ride and not the fact that we are all god damned humans. Instead of being amazed by the diversity of abilities we can exhibit we tend to turn against each other for those differences. I can imagine a one man, one rule, and one empire scenario. A situation where one individual or a set of individuals control the world. But then won’t it be forced on those who choose to differ and again that would be no different than tyranny or dictatorship. How about a no rule scenario? Total freedom would lead to total anarchy. With freedom comes order, something we as a species tend to lack. And we have a problem with authority. Whenever someone rises, good or bad, wrong or right people get ready to make them fall. We have turned the very blessings of knowledge and choice in to curse. We have knowledge, and we continue to significantly add to it, but not to excel. We make choices and more recently we tend to make the wrong ones, well at least the ones that make the most damages.

    I know I sound hypocritical for the very least, may be even a bit of a misanthrope. Better embrace the reality than deny it. It’s a dream that is used as hope that someday we will survive ourselves, our choices, and our very root nature.

    So yeah, I was supposed to write my little bit about Utopia here. I did start off with the little utopian dream of mine but then it got me thinking, and I got another dream, a coin flip should you say. Utopia is a vision, a dream of a perfect or near perfect reality. If we are to make Utopia a reality if not for ourselves then at least for our children and theirs we have a long way to go. I’ve always believed in miracles. It’s only a miracle that today I am writing this, and you are reading this. Let’s hope for a big one.

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    Feminspirations- Thankful

    There are many beliefs as to how women came in to existence. Maybe god pulled a bone out of the first man’s ribs and made it to in to a woman to be man’s ideal companion, May be she was molded out of earthen clay just like man, or that she evolved into a female human alongside with the male human from our ape like ancestors. The bottom line is however, that she was created equal to him and not inferior.
    Along the lines, as we progressed and evolved from barbarians to the civilized people that we are now, women have many a times taken the seemingly back seat role. No she did not earn money for the family but took it from the hard working husband. No she did not study and graduate, but depended on her children when it came to reading and signing important documents. But she did handle the money and take care of the house, she saw to it that the fees and bills were paid for, and that the kids and husband got what they wished even she had to sacrifice what she wanted to buy. She was to it that the money didn’t get spent on liquor, gambling and whores but was saved when the need arose. She saw to it that when her husband came home tired from a day’s work, she tired herself ensured that he had a nice bath and fresh clothes waiting for him, and would greet him with relaxing hot cup of tea. That when there was a need for even more money, and that all her savings and sacrifices couldn’t keep up, she would venture in to the ‘masculine territory’ and earn money for the family, taking care to their every other need at the same time.
    She did see to it that while the kids were young, they got a good base of their values and ethics. That when they started learning, she was there to teach them the alphabet and addition-subtraction at home, so these kids would grow up to be doctors, engineers, scientists, lawyers and what not few years down the line, while she still remained a humble mother. She saw to it while they were studying their every need, want and desire was addressed to, no matter how small or how unreasonable. She pulled courage to have tough love when the occasion called for it, when she could not bear to see her kids going astray from the code she taught them. And yet she was the magic medicine, whose kiss would heal more painful wounds in less time than the best of the bitter medicines. And yet she was told that all she did was ‘be in the back seat and take care of the home’.
    She was there as the wife who left the comforts and habits of her home to come and live with the family of her husband because she loved him, or that her parents thought he would take care of her. She stood by her husband when the world and his family were against him. She adjusted to his lifestyle, took care of the new family, give birth to a beautiful baby. She was there when he needed someone to understand him, someone to talk to. She was there when he couldn’t argue with his parents, and she had to become the ‘bad’ one. And yet the baby was chosen to be killed because she was a girl and not a boy who would carry on the family’s name.
    For every woman you have in your life, be thankful that she is there, and helped you out in ways more than you could imagine, be it through the role of a mother, wife, sister, daughter or friend. It took a woman to give birth to you, and to quote the movie Bruce Almighty, “A single mom who’s working two jobs, and still finds time to take her son to soccer practice, that’s a miracle.”

    This is my entry for Feminspiration- A celebration of women’s rights, capabilities and existence

    Posted on by Santulan · 7 Comments

    A letter in the present to the future

    Tejaswee Rao died some days ago. She is the daughter of the woman known to some of us as the Indian Homemaker after fighting the painful dengue for quite some days. A bright soul, one of her last blog posts was a letter to her future daughter. It did make me think that yes, life is quite unpredictable. We never know that I like anyone else might one fine day just cease to be, whether it may be after a lengthy battle with an affliction, a swift death in some accident or just sleep never wake up in this world again. So like her, I write this letter to you my future love, knowing that maybe you’re somewhere out there reading this. We may not know each other now or maybe are acquaintances ready to get reacquainted as more significantly. Maybe we’re already in love and this is something that I think that you must read because I wrote it for you. This is a dream I had of you one night. I can still remember details of it vividly, except your face. Try as much I may, I still cannot recall how or who you liked like.

    I can see a meadow materialize in front of me. There’s a mixture of fresh green and drying yellow grass around. You sit rested along the trunk of a tree with a wide canopy which stands near the centre of the meadow. As you sit in the shade of the tree, pillars of light cut through the leaves and graze the grass around, creating an aura of illustration. Your long hair dances with the currents of the gentle breeze quite like the blades of the grass around you. You’re lost from the world in the book that you’re reading barely noticing that I am walking towards you. You look hauntingly beautiful, drowned in your care free innocence while you’re smiling at something which you’ve read in the book. It’s a weird smile as if something has dawned upon you, making you realize something simple. It’s fitting though, maybe sometimes we’re meant to realize things and not know them. You put the book down momentarily and reach for a cigarette from your pocket. You light it up and let the first puff out quite like the long breaths you let out after inhaling the smells of the fresh flowers. I pause in my approach to just stand there and let the sight consume me when our eyes meet after you turn around to see me standing there. You lips spread in to a smile and you beckon me nodding gesture as I walk briskly and come sit next to you. You keep the book aside and stretch your legs in front of you. I just sit there and gaze in to your eyes for some time when you blow a long puff of smoke in my face. You can’t help but in to a spell of chirpy laughter as I lay down on the grass with my head on your thighs. It’s by default that I stretch out my hand to caress your naked legs while you ruffle my hair with one hand while continuing to smoke with the other. I observe the patterns your lips make as you remove the cigarette to blow some smoke away. “I can’t understand about the poison symbol, smoking doesn’t kill you but it sure does screw you up and increase the probability of death by a hundred folds. Yet people go on to leave the full stretch of their lives while some fight a lost battle with their cancer stricken half dead bodies” is what I speak as continue to gaze at your lips. You stop playing with my hair while I still continue caressing your legs, I observe that your bite your lower lip for some time and while you release that red lip from the between your teeth you smack me affectionately on the head and say “Idiot!”

    Posted on by Santulan · 2 Comments

    Generation Gap

    Nineteen years old today are different from nineteen years old twenty years ago. Twenty years is a long time, but things changed in many ways that people didn’t foresee or imagine to. The sudden advance of technology and globalization brought many changes to the industry but also closer to home. So contacting someone close doesn’t require one to wait in queue for half an hour and send one line messages, one simply has to flip out a tiny piece of plastic and circuits and chat their way to their heart’s content. While at the same time children find more time to spend with their mobiles and iPods than they want to spend with their close ones. Women took great time and effort in cooking food for the family, and now we see people just open cans, pour the contents in an oven and five minutes later you’ve got a meal for four.  The increase in the availability of such items of reduced requisite labor was however brought so soon, that the coming generation was adopted to it, while the original generation couldn’t catch up to it, which leads to different foundations of personalities for them
    The interesting thing which is beginning to appear here is the change of dynamics in relationships. People born and brought up twenty years ago associated with people. Their priority was how their relationships were defined with people, which is the reason why they were more docile and submissive towards their parents, and teachers. It’s not that people don’t respect their elders in the times of today; it’s just that they’ve grown more vocal and wish to have their opinions heard so that they can be treated as equals. However the other­­ generation grew up conditioned as the “people” types wherein they followed the defined boundaries between generations which were never meant to be crossed.
    On the other hand the current generation has grown associating with objects. It’s always been the things that they must have; goals that they must accomplish, putting their wants and needs ahead of the people around them. The said needs need not be physical or material such as the wants and carving for objects, but also transcend to being talked to as an individual, to be heard, to be followed. This is the reason why they cross the generation barrier and talk affront to the teachers and parents to get this done. Due to this difference of foundations there tends to be a feeling of disrespect from both sides at times. One believes that the new generation doesn’t trust their experience and respect and that they’ve strayed away by associating with said objects, while the other feels left out and disgruntled.
    Hence to accomplish these wants they turn to people who will be able to provide for them: people of their own age. This is also the reason that it can be seen people tend to ‘hang out’ more with their own age groups than the time they spend with family. It’s more about going out with friends, taking a trip on the weekend and spending vacations goofing around each others’ house than may be take the traditional trip to their ancestral home. It’s more about how ‘cool and awesome’ their friends are, how much they want to be and how their parents and teachers are ‘not getting’ them.  
    First there’s the rule, then there’s the exception to the rule, which is why it feels nice to observe exceptions to these relationships as well. Quite a few parents and teachers have started to understand this aspect of their children’s lives, and they choose not to drastically change them but to accept them for who they are and try to make some good out of it. Part of this understanding leads them to talk openly about issues, like the troubles they’re facing, their take on certain things. There are times when they are the best friends, having fun when nothing is there to do, a beacon of hope of in the vast sea of life, and a guiding moral compass should their own ever falter.  At the same time there’s a change coming in the new generation as dwell. Not only have they become more respectful of the experience and views of the older generations, they at time actively seek it for guidance. A sense of mutual respect and appeal is seen in many ways where the parents seek the advice of children when it comes to the choice of items like electronics, or maybe even the color of the walls.
    So what we see here is a mutually symbiotic relationship, where in the generation which has people as the foundation of their core values now receives respect, and the generation which has objects as their core receives not just material objects but also psychological ones which doesn’t make them feel left out. Yes things are not as picture perfect as the way we see in tele vision series like The Brady Bunch, or may be as grand as the Sooraj Barjatia movies, where big families often come together come across vast differences in to one single unit. No, those are movies and series, and you get paid to act and say things in them. Real life has different issues, different stories, different scales of how this goes and how all the little things which we overcome to bring two generations together. How we appreciate that it’s not just camera cell phones, and laptops that matter but also the people who guide us in our lives and listen to us and when we need them the most. That it’s about building bridges and reaching out to people with different set of minds.

    Posted on by Santulan · 2 Comments

    Guilt

    There are many emotions and feelings that drive us human beings. Some for the better, some for the worse. Amongst them is guilt. This is the feeling you get when you feel yourself responsible or are made to feel responsible for unfortunate turn of events. There may be many reasons for one to feel this. May be someone failed to achieve a personal goal, may be they didn’t get good grades, may be they let someone down. The causes and effects of guilt can be many. I’ll tell you about mine. Or at least try to.

    Given my own set of talents and skills with some above average I don’t have a great academic record. My parents, teachers and some friends have always cited this and tried to make me feel about this. I guess the lowest point was when I flunked two subjects in the second year of my college. Sure Mom was mad, it was the talk of the day in the staff, friends were taken back, and even I was sullen for two days. Not guilty mind you. Academics never interested me that much. Sure I know most of the things that are taught and made to be learned. That’s the whole point of going to school and college. But somehow I never got interested in exams. I mean I know that if I didn’t prepare well for the exams, I was bound to not excel it. I just did enough to get through fine. This was echoed by a former principal who called mom to the office and said that I was only studying MINIMUM during the exams to pass. When mom told me of it, I think I sported a big grin. During the time I failed in college and went all sullen it was not out of guilt. I was thinking that I could get so miserable that I didn’t clear two subjects that I didn’t particularly like. And the fact that I’d have to do it all again, which effectively laid waste to six months worth of time that had to be devoted to a subject. So I got down to it, and cleared all my subjects within time having taken them as extra exam only subjects. Maybe it has to do with the fact that all my preparations for it, which were a known conscious decision.

    Or another thing happens with the times I talk with some of the ‘elder’ people, be it in our outside of my family relations. Some people don’t like how forthcoming I can get at times. I have told teachers to their face when I believe that they’re wrong. When discussions get interesting and I get to say my say, I am told that I should treat them with respect and should feel guilty for my words. I cannot get how the only criteria for respect should be age. And why should I feel guilty about not following it. Their standards not mine.

    Many times shame and guilt are along the same lines. When I was young, innocent and gullible and teachers used to ask me don’t you have any shame, I was in a dilemma. You see I didn’t know the meaning of the word shame. So when I said yes, they tried to invoke the feeling of shame and guilt in me which I couldn’t feel as much as I tried. So in turn when I said no, oh there was a whole lot of trouble. Somehow that feeling has remained stuck to me ever since.

    When it comes to work it’s a different thing. Some time ago we had an internal calibration and preparation audit for an audit that was supposed to take place sometime around late December. So when our auditors came for it and we went to different workstations to get audited, some results and observations showed lack of preparedness. I was directly responsible for some. I had multiple things to get done and prioritized accordingly. Sure it turned out to be wrong, and that I had to hear something for it, I am not against that. I had to make some choices, I made the wrong ones. I can live with that. My immediate boss was also along with me as an auditee that time. SO the auditors then said that it was understandable that there was lack of preparedness as I am new and would have issues managing the shift operations and the preparedness and they slowly turned some things on him. That really got to me. That’s where the guilt began creeping in. I mean I screwed up, so why should I be excused for the reason that I am new. I am new so what, that does not make me any less accountable for my work. And then that some things ended up on my boss. Why should others be blamed or held for my work? If my work is to be reflected on, then it should be me. My boss has shown great trust in me by taking forward steps in guiding me to the ways of the work and lets me take responsibilities head on when I want to. And after all that if my lack of work should somehow make him to look bad, then I feel guilty.

    My work should be a reflection of me. My bads should not necessarily reflect on my boss. Saying that would reduce my own accountability. I may be new at work but that does not excuse me for not getting work done on time. I may give my best at times but if it doesn’t get the work done, that I have not given enough. And if I have not given enough I have not succeeded. And should the shadow of my failure be cast upon someone else, I’ll feel guilty.

    The beautiful thing about guilt is that try as much as you may as long as the said person doesn’t feel a gut wrenching remorse about his or her inadequacies from the inside you cannot make them feel guilty. There’s whole big factor of the said person’s own standards.