Article

Who Determines the Value of your Life?

Should we be valued for who we are? Or for what we do? Should we do good to be valued? For legacy yes, but in general, should groups like ‘family’, ‘friends’, ‘society’ value us for being a part of them or for what we contributed to them? Should we be valued for being or doing? Is man an isolated creature? Or is his value always determined in relation to others?

What exactly is ‘being’? Is it absence of action? Or doing what is most natural to us? So what if we do things we see as natural to us, but are of no value to others? Does it make us less ‘valuable’?

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Article

Who Stole the Weekend?

“Let’s goto a movie this weekend? How about a long drive? How about a get together? How about meeting for drinks?” – Weekends hold a lot of promise. Every Monday starts with a longing only to end on Fridays in feverish anticipation for the two day reprieve. But, what actually happens on the weekend? We oversleep (after all we slogged through the entire week, didn’t we?), laze around and spend 3/4 of Saturday trying to figure out which is the best way to spend the day. But, by the time we make the decision, it is Saturday evening. And, then suddenly our sleeping mind wakes up from slumber and reminds us of all the chores that need to be done that day. What then happens is – depression kicks in. We waste some more time choosing between responsibility and fun.

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Article

The Lost Art of Journaling

My first journal was a blue coloured diary gifted to me by a close friend. It was the year ’97 and the diary was of ’95. But, it didn’t matter to me. I had an ‘official’ book to write down my thoughts. I was super excited to pen what I did that day. And, so started that day, without even realizing, a love affair of a lifetime. But, my journaling habits were on and off. Sometimes, I would write everyday, sometimes once a week or sometimes neglect it for months together. Recently, I realised it had been a very long time that I had written something. To motivate myself, I walked to my cupboard, opened it and squatted down on the floor. Lined to the wall were fifteen journals, I picked one and started reading. Going through the motives, feelings, thoughts of a younger me made me cry, laugh, hate and love myself at the same time. With each journal I could see myself grow from who I was then to who I am today. I regretted looking at the blank pages. Why didn’t I write then? What might I have lost because of that? A memory? A story? A smile? or a small understanding of myself? I had to write again.

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Article

Turning Pro

For a long time now, I’ve cherished a dream to become a writer. But, with no prior experience or skills, came self doubt. But, I wanted to try my hand at something and so in 2007 I started a blog. But, after the initial enthusiasm waned, I stopped writing. I knew I wanted to write, but suddenly it became a chore – the muse was no longer with me. I let the project go stale. But, after some soul searching, help from books, I understood muses don’t stay with anyone for long, and if we want to pursue our dream, we need to persevere with dicipline. I once again decided to write, this time even when I would not have any inclination. I closed the old blog, opened a new one, moved over all the old posts and continued to write. But, still doubts lingered in my heart: Do I have what it takes? Can I actually make it? Can I keep writing, not getting tired or running out of topics? What if history repeated itself? Will I quit like last time? I did not have any answers. But, I knew there was only one way to find out. Soon, blogging to me was not just passion at work, but, a test – do I have what it takes to be a writer? Will I perservere?

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Article

Life on Autopilot

I started doing the report exactly the way I’ve been doing it for the last four years. After an hour a colleague asked me what I was doing, and though I could retrace my steps back, I couldn’t recollect doing them. When on the road, I’d turn my bike automatically towards my most oft travelled route, even when I was supposed to go somewhere else. I’d skim through twitter feed and not remember what I read in the last tweet, participate in conversations but not listen enough, stare at the TV but not really watch, read through the pages but not care enough to remember the character names – Have I become a zombie? Am I turning to an Alzheimer’s patient or have gone numb to life?

I no longer participate in life but run it on autopilot.

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