Becoming

 It's been a long time and to be honest, I don't know why. There was a time when I used to write twice a month or at least every couple of months but for some time, I've hit a rut I believe. Is it because of age? Lack of motivation? Plain laziness or procrastination or just the feeling of not having enough to say. I don't mean to sound dramatic, or melancholic but well, it is what it is. I'm not a writer much to the chagrin of my 16 year old naïve self but yes, I enjoy writing and for my present self, that's enough. I wish people talked about it more. Growing up isn't just about adding new things, places and people but also about them getting away. They're always a part of you,  but in a quieter way. Like echoes in a room you no longer visit as often. Now, you hesitate more. You second-guess. You wonder if saying nothing is better than saying something that doesn’t feel enough. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe it’s just about showing up and making peace with the spaces in between. That's why I'm writing this. A decade ago, a single event would have made me ramble like an idiot, but years have made me realize the significance of absorbing it, first and then talking about it. Or maybe I've just realized that there's more to what can be seen and become a stronger skeptic than I was before. My sister often rolls her eyes and outrightly calls the co-existence of my skepticism and hopefulness, an irony. Which is true and now, I've come to accept it like a second skin. But we all do that, right? In our own, highly individualistic ways, we find and iterate beliefs, which make our lives a little more bearable and peaceful. It's not what our adorable GenZ have called delulu; it's more like a mechanism to help us navigate our everydays. 

Maybe that’s what growing up really is-learning to hold contradictions without needing to resolve them. Skepticism and hope, silence and expression, the urge to share and the comfort of keeping things to yourself. We carry all of it, sometimes effortlessly, sometimes like a weight we don’t know how to put down. And there comes the need to do things for ourselves. Be it sparing some time just for your cup of coffee, or get some extra minutes of sleep; an extra episode of the show you're watching or an uninterrupted reading hour. Maybe just some quiet time to help you feel better and refreshed. A really underrated show called My Liberation Notes hinted this: “Five minutes a day. If you have five minutes of peace, it’s bearable.” That's the thing about stories, it becomes a way to breathe when the world moves too fast. It’s in those moments, curled up with a book or lost in a drama, that I remember I don’t have to have everything figured out. And maybe, just maybe, that’s okay. I recently finished a couple of books (birthday haul courtesy two people who're comfort in human form) - Before we visit the goddess, Lallan's Sweets, Tell me three things, People from Platform 5 and The Lion Women of Tehran. I feel rich having read these since they're all from different genres. I love slice of life but I feel reading across genres is also necessary at times. You never know how and what you're going to love from each book you pick; Or even show. The pandemic gave me a gift to always remember- the chance to fall in the blackhole of kdramas. To watch content with subtitles and the ability to savor it fully. One of the main reasons why you fangirl (or fanboy- rarer species but still believe them to be real) over them is because often it's the way small gestures speak so much louder than words. It's a reminder that sometimes, just existing is enough. Hoping to write more frequently, but abhi ke liye itna hi..