Musings and the #KfcProposal

While scrolling through Twitter yesterday, I found this hashtag called #kfcproposal. I had no idea about it so I decided to find out. 10 minutes and a few tweets and articles later, I was in tears, showing their wedding video to my mother. I am a very emotional person and I have no shame in admitting that often times I do let my heart rule my head.

Before I go on, I’d definitely like to share the story behind the trending hashtag for those of you who might be unaware. 

A video had surfaced online showing Mkansi proposing Soldaat at a KFC outlet in South Africa. Apparently, he was made fun of by a few twitter users who received a lot of backlash for their negative comments (and rightfully so). However, a lot of people were touched by the proposal and the video was reshared a LOT of times. Many brands, from KFC to Audi, stepped up, offering to organise a special day for them. Finally, the couple was identified. And they walked down the aisle, again. 

They had their dream wedding. And as I went through the articles on them and the videos from their wedding (which took place in December, last year), I felt so happy. And I didn’t intend to cry. But when I called my mom from the other room to show her the video and tell her about their story, I teared up. 

My mom always says that good things happen to good people. I’m sure, a lot of people have said the same thing in a lot of ways. 

“Good things happen to good people”, “Nothing bad happens to good people”, it’s all the same. But I don’t think any other phrase can be so soothing and scary at the same time. We all want to believe that we’re good people. I don’t think anyone would be curled up on their sofa thinking they are mean or bad (this isn’t soap opera, right?). So how do we know if we’re good? Because unless we truly know that, how can we ever have a positive outlook? How do I know that, in the long run, everything will turn out to be just fine, if I don’t know whether I deserve a happy ending at all? It’s scary. And yet, if I’m not bad, I shouldn’t worry because it WILL be alright eventually. 

I think that’s food for some thought? Or maybe I’m just blabbering? 

Too many questions for today. 

Hehe! 

Have a good week ahead! 

Blast from the past!

I’m not going write anything today. Instead, I’ll share a little note I wrote 9 years ago!
It’s so pleasantly surprising to come across a piece of writing from years ago!

I resonate with most of the things I wrote in the note above except the part where I thought I wanted to become an engineer. Probably one of the reasons I was so unsure about it back then was because it was never my true calling. :)

22 lessons

I’m turning 22 really really soon! Can you believe that? It’s not really one of those milestone birthdays but that doesn’t stop me from being OTT. So, I’ve decided to document a few things that I’ve learnt in almost 22 years of my life. I actually want it to be 22 lessons but I’m not promising. I’ll try really hard to be consistent!!

Also, I just wanted to put it out there that I started my own Instagram account where I post doodles, mandalas and a lot of other fun artwork. Once again, I do it only for fun but a little appreciation never hurt nobody. I started it in 2016 and well, I’ve been more or less active in putting up posts. My handle is @blackinkpot.

Without any further ado, let’s begin the first lesson out of twenty two (hopefully)!


TWENTY TWO to 22 

Lesson 1: Change is the only constant

I probably have used this phrase a billion times on my blog. But this time, I’m not talking about external changes. I’m talking about the changes that happen within. Four years ago, I was fresh out of school, raised by two sets of helicopter parents, completely oblivious to the struggles of every day life and ignorant of the grim realities of our society.

In hindsight, I believe 2014-16 was the period when India (and the world in general) noticed a paradigm shift in ideologies. The world grew just a little bit larger to accommodate new ways of thinking and living. It’s still growing...

So, back in 2016-17, my ideas and my opinions on some of the issues were very different. I called myself a feminist without seeing a need for the existence of such a movement, without knowing what it really meant and without understanding what role are we supposed to play. It sounds weird to say it now but I feel like I was just following a “fad” back then. But the last four years have changed me. Today, I know what it “really” means. In a country, where everyone finds it so easy to find faults in a movement that has only just begun to grow, I try to play my small part by trying to make them understand that this wave of feminism has got nothing to do with eradicating the male gender. I don’t want to make this entire post about feminism so I think I’ll pick up this topic some other time!

I also didn’t really understand what it meant to stand for the rights of the LGBTQ community. But, here’s a thing that I’ve learnt as I’ve “aged” (to perfection, of course) that you can’t have an opinion on someone else’s basic human rights. There, I rest my case.

So, a lot of times, people are very stubborn to change their views. They’ll debate with you without any good argument to support their claims (citing other idiots don’t count). And if you give up, they think that they managed to shut you up. But that’s not true. Sometimes, it gets mentally exhausting to reason with someone who’s stubborn and/or delusional! Which is why I wanted to say that just like we have changes around us all the time, it’s okay to change your opinions and thoughts. There’s no shame in accepting that you had the wrong notion about a particular thing or that you were unaware of a few things and then changing your stand.

I feel like this post has turned way more serious than I intended it to, haha! So there you go, my first lesson in a series of 22 (once again, I really hope to be consistent with this!).

Hello there!

It took a pandemic for me to resume blogging...

The last time I wrote, I was 18 years old, sharing some of my very random, late night musings. Today, I’m almost 21, in the final year of my med school, at home because my college shut down and in the middle of what seems to be called “The worst year ever” (insert cries of everyone comfortably at home and cribbing). It’s time to break this very long hiatus (it’s not as if you were waiting though).

Sometimes when people talk of something from the past, they say, “Oh, wasn’t it just yesterday when...” or “I can’t believe it was 5 years ago”. However, when I look at the posts on this blog (even the ones from 2017), I feel as if eons have passed. There is a stark difference between the 18 year old version of me and what I am today. The change may not be apparent on my blog because I definitely still write like a 13 year old. But that was never the point of this blog, was it?

I started writing years ago when my aunt told me about the whole concept of blogging. Back then, I was a little kid, posting every random thing that comes to my mind, looking for appreciation from my 20 odd readers which included my family, friends and some random strangers who somehow managed to stumble across my posts. Some things never change, do they?

I named my blog Life is Beautiful because there can only be so much creativity in a child and also because I loved the movie that goes by the same name(or La vita è bella). I remember seeing it with my father on one lazy Saturday afternoon when he was at home. Back then he would have his Saturdays off. So while mom would go to work, we’d watch movies, visit parks and create a mess in the house.

(Also if you haven’t seen it already, please do!)

I know it’s not a very easy name for a blog for a variety of reasons. And no, I’m not sorry for being a naive teenager. Also, it’s not like a lot of people were blogging back then. There were no guides on “How to run a blog and gain readers” and even if there was, I was clearly oblivious to its existence. Today, I believe, there’s an app for Blogger as well. I’m still using the good old fashioned browser for “penning” this down.

So, I decided to visit my blog by pure chance. And started writing without any agenda or any fixed idea (and I wonder why this blog didn’t become famous in 2012). But like I mentioned before, as a kid, I didn’t really expect this blog to become a “thing”. I used to write because I felt like putting my thoughts out there. And even if not a lot of people come and see it, at least I can come down every once in a while and wince when I look at the whole load of baloney I wrote years ago. Haha! To be fair, it’s good to come back and see how we’ve evolved and grown. And while I might be criticising this piece 5 years down the line, I’m glad I’m creating something to reminisce about old days.

I hope I’ll be writing more in the coming weeks.

Ciao, for now!

A long awaited post

I've practically stopped writing on this blog, owing to the numerous changes that have occured in the last one year. But, I didn't stop writing (thank God!). And here's a collection of some of the stuff that I wrote. Hope you like it. :)

The first one's this -

If I had words for my thoughts

To me, the world is what is was when it was created. When the big bang that made every tiny atom on this planet, echoed silently through the vastness of the universe. When the earth was nothing but a mass of endless emptiness. When clouds obscured vision and when sound was yet to be discovered. Before language, before civilisation. Before the beginning of everything. When oblivion was all that existed. 

It is a different world. My eyes see nothing, my ears are deaf to every sound and words seem incapable of making it out of my mouth. But, I feel things. I can sense when people walk away, and the anguish that develops in the closed compartments of my mind after that. I can feel touch. It's funny how you can decipher the feelings of a person just by their touch. The soft tender touch, that is so familiar. The hard pressed touch of a person, evidently frustrated by the lack of my senses. The nudges, the rough prods and pokes that people do as they scurry past me. Sometimes it gets cold and sometimes it gets hot. Very hot. I can feel sweat dripping down the worthless organs of my face. I feel chills. Occasionally, people help me out. They provide some aid. But, a lot of times, I am lost, with no one to understand my pain. Pain is weird, it's a funny emotion. It burns through flesh and muscle, yet I can feel no injury with my hands. It stings and hurts. I wonder what it is like? A physical entity? An abstract phenomenon? Or just a figment of imagination?  Why does this pain, that leaves no physical signs, hurt the most? And where do I find its cure? 

Unaware of these answers, I live my life. Waiting for the pain to hit. A jab in my ribs, a burn in the contents within, that no one can heal.  

And here's another - 

If my memories existed

I look at things. Birds, trees, cars and men. There is a shadow that seems to cloud my vision. Faces come and go. And I am never able to catch hold of them. The lady sitting next to me is looking after me. She looks familiar but I don't know her. She has a slightly maudlin nature. Her eyes start glimmering as I sit reminiscing about old days. She is hopeful about something. Something to provide her solace. But, I end up disappointing her. She is sobbing into a handkerchief with Julia and Mark embroidered on it. To please her, I call out her name. She's thrilled to hear it. Her eyes importune me for something more. For what, I can't recall. Her name's Julia, that's all I could make out. She whispers a name, into my ears. I hear it. I want to remember it. Hold on to that memory with my dear life. But, I am drowning. Drowning in a sea of nihility. 

I promise, there's just one more - 

If Ending could speak

I come like a wave, crashing down on the first thing I see. With no sympathy, commiseration or pity, I break down the walls that were once erected on foundations of warmth, love and integrity. My face is a mask, showing no remorse, or guilt as I cause havoc in lives of the young and bold. I hurt and break and wreck lives. I am blamed, judged and accused. Insolent and stone-hearted, I am called. But, my face's a mask, you see. 

Parts of me go crashing as I crash into the lives of people. My soul gets torn apart as I tear apart bonds. Are those tears that roll down my cheeks, when I hear someone imprecating me? They reach out for Death instead of accepting me. They call for him to rescue them. Am I more appalling than my accursed friend? Is it not wrong to think of me so? Nothing hurts me more than that. Rage overcomes me. And I go crashing into them again. 

And the last one (penned it down today) -

If we could bid adieu to Fatalism

What's meant to be, will happen. What's not, just don't bother about it. Fatalism. One word, that ruined mankind. Acceptance is the Law of God, they say. Don't wander off, don't seek. If you can't reach the grapes, just call them sour. It sounds hilarious, and yet we've "accepted" this ideology. But why settle? If you can have the moon, then why can't we reach out for the stars? Stop. Breathe. Think. Dream. If opportunity hasn't knocked yet, have you ever thought of building a door? If roses are cliche, why not look for tulips. If mauve is dull, and turquoise too loud, then why settle for either? Why look for a map, when you can make one of yours? Don't wait for a story to be written for you, grab that pen and begin. If life throws you lemons, stop trying to make yourself a lemonade. Consider throwing away those damned lemons. 

That's it for today. I'll be more regular, I promise!

A change

So they finally changed a flavour. And I got to have "Malted Chocolate Fudge". This one's bliss. Let me emphasise again, This one was bliss! 

Random reason - I got a new flavour to try! :D

Dead End

Well the store hasn't renewed the flavours, and I've tasted all that are available. I guess, we'll have to pause this challenge for now! :((