A44. Who am I Becoming?

For the first time in my life, I’m unable to recognize the person that I’ve become. I feel like someone who’s seeing his reflection in a mirror after months and years! I cannot comprehend what’s happening to me. I’m not upset though. However, I’m scared and excited at the same time. I feel like I’m on a new adventure, walking on a strange road oblivious of where it’s going to lead me.

Lately, I’ve been feeling like nobody is able to understand me. But how can I expect others to understand me when I’m failing to understand myself? I’ve always been good at expressing my feelings but how can I express what I cannot even comprehend? I wonder if I should visit a psychiatrist.

I feel like I’m a cage and inside me is a being who’s trying hard to get out: to be free! I do not know who or how this being is. I can tell that he’s desperate to get out. He’s been mischievous lately. I think that he’s wild, very wild! I would let him free but is the world prepared for him? Will people around him be able to understand him? Above all, am I prepared for him and will I be able to understand him?


I know that he’s going to get out somehow; he’s eventually going to overpower me. I’m not strong enough to keep him trapped forever and he’s only getting stronger! I also know that once he’s free, he cannot be trapped again. As a matter of fact, even though I’m fighting to keep him trapped, I want him to win this fight. If he gets out, he wouldn’t only be freeing himself, he’ll free me.

Why am I fighting him? I do not know. I think that I want to give him a tough fight. Maybe I want to feel the pleasure that I shall experience when the wild being in me shall be free after a long fight with me.

What if what’s in me is actually a monster? Maybe it’s a monster. But he has to get out of me. He needs to be free. He wants to roar in the open air, he’s willing to fight for his freedom!

However, what I do know is that what’s trying to get out of me is me; monster or not a monster, wild or not actually wild, good or bad, I need to be free.




A43. Even a Healer needs Healing

As he parked his car in the parking lot of the Hospital, a crowd, which had been standing outside the entrance of the Hospital for several hours now, came rushing towards him. He stepped out of the car, with bloodstains on his white coat, and a bloody arm. He was shivering on a sunny day, sweat drenching from his forehead. An old man grabbed his bloody arm, he cried in pain but the old man ignored.

Someone in the crowd said, “Doctor, you’re here. My daughter will be saved now!”

Another voice said, “Doctor, my wife’s been sick for over a week now!”

A child pulled his shirt and said, “Doctor Uncle, my father is admitted in your hospital. Please save him.”

The voices didn’t keep quiet. He ignored them all and started to walk towards the Hospital. Everyone paved the way for him for they all wanted something from him. As he reached the entrance door of the building, a beautiful lady opened the door for him and said, “Doctor, my mother…” She started to cry and the Doctor walked ahead.

A nurse came rushing towards him and he took a sigh of relief. He thought that she’d clean his wound and eventually stitch it. He assumed that she’d relieve him of his pain, that she would heal him. As she reached near him, she said, “Doctor, everyone has been waiting for you. Please come with me to the operation theater, you need to take care of numerous patients today.”

The Doctor followed the nurse, ignoring the voices of people around him, constantly staring at his bloody arm that everyone was ignoring. As he entered the operation theatre, he attempted to tell the nurse that he was injured but she paid no attention to his words. He was handed over several tools and was expected to perform a surgery. He told himself, “Your wounds can be healed later, let’s take care of the wounds of others at this moment.” After thirty minutes, he exited the operation theatre after successfully performing a surgery. A man in his mid-thirties came rushing towards him and expressed his gratitude.

He was thirsty but he was pulled into another room where an old woman was lying on bed, waiting for medical attention. He checked her body temperature, read her pulse and prescribed her certain medicines. He was again pulled into another room where he was expected to perform another surgery. His arm kept bleeding, his pain kept increasing but he kept telling himself that he can take care of his wound after he takes care of the wounds of others.

After being pulled from one room to another for hours, he was exhausted. Every time someone touched his arm, he cried in pain but everyone ignored his pain. He was frustrated. An old man pulled him by his sleeve, attempting to take him to another room to take care of another patient. He pushed the old man away and looked angrily at everyone around me.

“I’ve been working for hours now. I need rest.”

A voice in the crowd said, “Who do you think you’re? Get down from your high horse!”

“I’m injured. I need medical attention.”

Another voice in the crowd said, “You’re so egoistic!”

“I cannot heal the wounds of others anymore until I heal my own wounds.”

Another voice in the crowd said, “You’re selfish!”


The Doctor rushed towards his cabin and locked the door of the cabin from the inside immediately after having entered the cabin. He sat down on the floor, his back against the door. People on the other side of the door kept knocking the door. Everyone abused him, judged him, and misinterpreted him. The Doctor kept sobbing, hoping that someone would knock the door to help him instead of to ask for his help.

When he got tired of the voices criticizing him, he shouted at them, “Can you not understand that sometimes, even a Healer needs healing?”

The voices on the other side of the door got quiet. The Doctor took a sigh of relief. After a minute, a voice said, “You’re only manipulating us!” and the voices resumed to criticizing him.




A42. Do I Believe in Reincarnation?

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Karma Chameleon”

Soul is believed to be a form of energy. Science suggests that energy can neither be formed nor can it be destroyed, it can only be transformed from one form to another.

I’ve never seen ghosts but I’ve heard stories of people seeing humans who are dead already. The ‘already dead humans’ aren’t seen in the human form though. If death is the end then I do not see why reincarnation is needed. However, many people believe that only bodies die, not souls. Actually, even if death is not the end, I cannot understand the purpose of reincarnation: the never-ending cycle of life and death.


Most people would like to believe that there’s something beyond life and death. I once was afraid that death is the end and that there’s nothing beyond it. However, the way I now see it, life is the start and death is the end. I’d like to believe that there’s an end.

People value money more than they value time. If time would play the role of money like it did in the movie ‘In Time’, maybe people would value time more than they value pieces of paper and metals that they refer to as money. I think that at the end of life, most people realize that all their life, they’ve spent time, not money.

In the book Paper Towns, John Green, through the character Margo Roth Spiegelman, suggests that people valued life more when the lifespan of humans was shorter than it is now. It’s more like money: when you’ve a lot of money, you do not base your life choices on money. Similarly, when you’ve a lot of time, you do not base your life choices on the time you’ve to live.


Do I believe in reincarnation? Maybe we’re only transformed from one form to another, we never actually die. However, I’m still undecided on my opinion on reincarnation. I do not want to form an opinion before I’ve all the required data to come to a conclusion and I certainly do not have enough data until now.



A41. Why I Follow Back?

Most people are willing to be on the stage but very few are willing to be in the audience. We want people to listen to us but we’re unwilling to listen to what others have to say. We want to express ourselves in public, we want people to see us for who we’re but we’re unwilling to be the public that sees others express themselves and we’re unwilling to see people for who they’re.

Most people complain that no one really knows them. If everyone is going to be on the stage at once, how can all have an audience? Also, why is an audience always expected to be the audience and why can a performer not be an audience?

Social media has become our voice today. Every time a blogger follows my blog, I follow his/her blog. Every time a twitter user follow my twitter account, I follow his/her account. I do the same on Instagram. I follow my followers because I think that I owe it to them.


When I listen to what others have to say, I expect them to listen to me. Therefore, when someone listens to what I’ve to say, I make sure that I listen to what they’ve to say. How can I expect others to read or see my posts if I’m unwilling to read or see their posts?

I put in efforts to maintain this blog and so do other bloggers. Therefore, when other bloggers find time to read my posts, I think that I too should find time to read their posts. In the process, often, I’m able to connect with people and make new friends. Friends are always better than fans, aren’t they?




NOTE: I follow most accounts that follow me, not all. If you follow my account, I’d follow you if I consider you worthy of my attention.

A40. Why Still Single?

I love Sherlock Holmes. I would go far enough to say that I look up to him. He maybe unreal but he’s portrayed in a believable manner. I believe that a character like him could actually exist. I like the way Benedict Cumberbatch presents the character of Sherlock Holmes in Sherlock. I also like the way Robert Downey Jr. presents Sherlock Holmes in the Sherlock Holmes movies.

I like Gabriel Macht’s portrayal of Harvey Specter in Suits. I like Jim Parsons’s portrayal of Sheldon Cooper in The Big Bang Theory. I like Stephen Amell’s portrayal of Oliver Queen in Arrow.

I look up to Steve Jobs. He was obsessed with simplicity and perfection. He seldom cared about money. He cared about the experience that his customers would have when they shall use the products made by the company that he founded. I think that a conversation on Design Thinking is incomplete without the reference of Steve Jobs. For him, the word impossible actually meant “I’m possible”.

If we look at all these characters that I like and look up to, you’d see that they’re either emotionally damaged or incapable of understanding romance. Their history suggests that they find it difficult to stay in a stable relationship. Some of them are just too rational to be passionately mad in love. Some are just insecure and they find safety in being alone.

IMG_20160205_021130_editI found this poem on Instagram. I’m unaware of who the author of this poem is.

Psychology suggests that we, consciously or subconsciously, knowingly or unknowingly, imitate people we like. Chris Paley, in Unthink, suggests that the people who believe that they shall be single forever are likely to stay single forever.

Conclusion? Well, connect the dots. My taste and preferences are a portrayal of who I’m as a person. I look up to these characters that I’ve been talking about in this blog post either because I can relate to them or because I want to be them. Whichever it’s, it explains why I’m single.

Isn’t it amazing how such small details together shape our character? Please do comment and share your opinion. You shall find the comment box if you care to scroll down.



A39. Real Life or Reel Life?

Social media claims to bring people closer. As true as that maybe in the case of some people, it’s equally true that social media is increasing distance between people. I wouldn’t blame the social media for that though as it’s the addiction of people to social networking sites that’s increasing the distance between them and their loved ones.

I recently met some of my friends from school after almost four years. I was excited to meet them. I wanted to know them: the changes that they’d gone through and the person that they’d evolved into after I last met them. I wanted to have fun with them but in the process I wanted to learn new things about them. After all, they’re my friends and if I do not make attempts to know them they might soon become just acquaintances!


Sadly, of all the time that I spent with them, most was spent on booze and photographs. Initially I didn’t mind when they invited me to click a picture with them but eventually that started to irritate me. I did not want to meet them to click pictures with them; I wanted to meet them to get to know the person that they’d become. On a few occasions I got to look through their cracks and on those moments I was happy as, in those moments, I could at least know something about them.

On the last day of my trip with them, I felt lonely even though I was in a room full of people I had studied with in school. Everyone was lost in booze and clicking photographs with each other. One of my friends remarked that nothing had changed in either of us except our physical features. That’s not true though. Everyone changes as a person with time.

By the end of our trip, all that we’re left with is photographs. I would want to believe that I’ve brought along memories of moments but now that I look back, I’ve not really brought anything major with me. Maybe people today are looking at our pictures on social networking sites and wondering that we all had a great time but what we had is a great photo shoot!


We need to start condemning social media addiction just as much as we condemn addiction of cigarettes, alcohol and drugs. We need to choose real life over reel life before our life comes to an end.



A38. Tale of a Mother’s Love

We all are familiar with at least one tale of what love makes people do. The love of a mother for her child is regarded as the purest form of love and it’s been believed that a mother can go to any extent for the protection and welfare of her child! This blog post is about a recent incident that took place in my neighborhood; an incident that showcases the love of a particular mother for her child.

In my hometown, in an apartment in the building which is in front of my house, a woman was taking bath when her child, who’s barely one or two years old, latched the door of the bathroom from the other side. There was no one in the apartment except the child and her mother. When the woman realized that she was locked in the bathroom, she made every effort to break the door of the bathroom. Her daughter, on noticing that her mother was trying to get out of the bathroom, tried to unlatch the door. When her tiny fingers could not unlatch the door, she sat down on the floor and started to cry.

The woman could find no way to get out of the bathroom. When she heard some noise from the bathroom of the apartment which is right below her apartment, she yelled for help. At that moment she must’ve felt relieved as she could see a way to get out of the bathroom. Unfortunately, her neighbor is too cruel and thus, she denied to help. Instead, she shouted at her and commanded her to shut her mouth and quietly stay locked in the bathroom.

When the woman’s husband and the child’s father came home in the afternoon for lunch, he decided to have lunch at a restaurant when no one opened the main door of the apartment even after he knocked the door several times. He assumed that his wife and child are asleep. He’s probably kind and understanding as he thought that his wife must be tired and therefore, he chose to have lunch at a restaurant instead of at his house.

The woman was locked in the bathroom for five hours: that’s from 11 in the morning until 4 in the evening. She could hear her daughter crying and every time her daughter would stop crying, she assumed that her child is asleep. But her daughter wouldn’t stay silent for a long duration. Thus, after five hours, concern and love took control of her mind. She removed the glass panes of the bathroom’s window: one at a time.

Her apartment is on the fourth floor of the building she resides in. When she’d removed all the glass panes of the window, she poked her head out of the window and the rest of her body followed her head out of the window. She was hanging on a pipe and she started to slowly slide her body on the surface of the pipe. She was afraid to fall but her fear could not overpower her love and concern for her daughter. When she’d reached the first floor of the building, she realized that the pipe was connected only until the first floor of the building and thus, she’d to jump from the first floor if she wanted to reach the ground. Beneath her were numerous sharp stones. She was barefoot.

She jumped onto the stones and the sharp stones pierced through her skin. Despite the pain, she wasted no time to rush to the guard of the building and asked him to jump into the balcony of her apartment from the terrace of the building in order to open the main door of her house from inside the apartment. The guard acted immediately.


I do not know how the mother and her child would’ve reacted when the two would’ve seen each other after the guard would’ve opened the main door of the woman’s apartment. Maybe the daughter would’ve stopped crying immediately and would’ve rushed towards her mother. Maybe the mother would’ve tightly hugged her daughter. How the two reacted is left to my imagination.

I applaud the bravery of this woman. Such is her love for her daughter that she didn’t mind risking her life for her daughter. Perhaps, a mother’s love for her child is actually the purest form of love!



PS: The above blog post was written almost one year ago.