Unhappy or Unmotivated?

I stopped blogging about every day's occurrences for a number of reasons. However, the main reason behind this was the fact that it was starting to become an obligation. When I started this blog, I started it simply because I wanted to write- to share, with anyone interested, the things that interest me, that pick at my mind or that matter to me. The 100 Happy Days challenge was something I believed I could do, and being an emotional fool, I enjoyed ranting about charming bits of my days. But I soon noticed that the entire exercise was becoming something I had to do, it was becoming a job of sorts. Teental isn't my job and I don't want to ever punch time cards for it. So, I've been happy, I've had the little joys of life and a number of pictures to go with them, but I have no intention of parading these things deliberately- especially when I haven't much to say about these moments. Sometimes, all you need to do is smile that something happened and allow your mind to tuck it away someplace safe for it to be nostalgia some day.

I was missing out on the writing I wanted to do because I dedicated my blog-time to writing about mundane things. Soon, I began putting it off, leaving the blog unupdated. 'Why?', I asked myself. 'It's simple', a voice replied, 'You're putting it off because it's something you have to do.' This voice was right. I always procrastinate when it comes to assignments, chores, academics, jobs- I always wait for the last-minute panic siren to go off before I get down to getting these things done.

So, what DOES motivate me to write?

MIA and Why- Day Thirty Six to Day Forty Five

She felt her throat close up as she sipped her evening chai. As the evening progressed, her voice deepened to a low, droning gruffness. She sat there, under the fan- for it was hot, and wondered where the germs came from. They may have been giggling from inside her, rolling along her epithelium in roars of laughter, but she would've never known; for she's not only much larger than those little buggers, but is also slightly deaf in her left ear. Shouldn't we be able to hear smaller creatures' whispers better if our ears are larger? But then again, we're no elephant. As she reclined that night upon her shapeless pillow, she wondered if her voice would return. She stared up at the ceiling wondering absently, slowly beginning to feel the onset of phlegm. She decided to put herself to the ultimate test; she closed her eyes and sang Rolling In The Deep. It sounded like a broken recorder...under water...muffled by a sea sponge. Annoyed, she fell asleep.

The next day, she couldn't hear herself. Two cups of tea and a tumbler of warm water didn't help. In fact, it just made her feel hotter and return to her spot on the floor under the fan. Phlegm began to rise up and cause some sniffles. The voice she did get out was now nasal. She didn't dare to sing.

The next morning, she woke up with her eyelids trapped shut. It felt like a cat was sitting on her face, not letting her eyelids budge. But she soon realized it was some weird goo that was holding them together. She beheld a sickly spectacle while she brushed her teeth- one with puffy, bloodshot eyes and a leaky nose. It was hideous.

She spent the next few days battling this barrage of sickness by going to college, taking train rides, talking incessantly and eating sheera. She did put some eye drops every once in a while- she isn't that careless.

This girl, she has a blog, which is coincidentally called Teental as well. She neglected this blog through her blurry-eyed-mucous-nosed days and so, decided to pile up all her bouts of happiness in this one long post.

Ta-dee-dah.

Day Thirty Six: The long lost poem.

Day Thirty Seven: The Wodehouse book and the quiet college.

Day Thirty Eight: The First OG Meeting. Of productivity and procrastination.

Day Thirty Nine: Colourful bangles and a train ride.
 

Day Forty: Pajamas, candles and a light from above.

Day Forty One: The day the cat sat still.

Day Forty Two: Garlic toast, sheera and two cups of chai.

Day Forty Three: Musical feet.

 

Day Forty Four: The official WSD volunteer.

Day Forty Five: The dirt-cheap book sale.

Day Thirty Five

My photograph for today is one of a CD which was given to me by someone incredibly special.

I put the CD into my laptop and put my earphones on. I was welcomed by a soothing voice talking about what was on the CD. The recording went on to talk about the first song on the list and about why that song was on the CD. Then, the song started to play, and I had on my face the warmest of smiles. The collection of songs is both uncommon and exceptional. The playlist includes songs which are new to me, songs I've heard of before, songs which mean something to us, songs which move me personally and songs that I could listen to always. Each song is preceded by a short recording which talks about why that song is on the disc and what it means.

This gift was inspired from the mixed tapes that Charlie and his friends exchanged in Perks Of Being A Wallflower. That itself made my insides squirm. I was ecstatic when I was given the CD, but it wasn't until later that night when I got home and listened to it that I realized just how beautiful this little present was and just how much joy it would bring. As the songs rolled by and as this incredibly special friend kept talking to me, I went through a wide range of emotions. I smiled, I danced, I swayed, I cried. But throughout, I had warm currents of happiness flowing through my body. I put off the lights, closed my eyes and listened. And I felt like I was feeling beauty, like the music was speaking to me, like it was blowing cool air onto my neck and giving me goosebumps. I was content and happy, I was a nervous wreck. I was moved to tears not only by the wondrous melodies, but also by the thought that this incredibly special person thought of and wanted to put these songs together.

Listening to this one hour's worth of music was nothing short of an emotional journey. Somehow, it walked me through our memories and the past, it showed me the joy in the present and made me look forward to the future. It made me realize how much of our lives we share and how much we mean to each other. It's hard to imagine a world without this friend, a friend who perhaps knows me better than I know myself. It's not just the jokes or conversations or food or train rides we share, it's our lives.

Everything's painted in colourful music.

Day Thirty Four

I got a new OG-diary; one that I will be using from today through August. My little diary excited me, just like any new stationery does. I drew a petrified Calvin on the first page with my favourite Bill Watterson poem surrounding him.

This diary is the start of something wonderful and exciting. I can't wait to fill it with ideas, dates, logs and other important things. I can picture myself thirty years from today, climbing up a ladder and finding this little book at the top of some dusty, old cupboard; and then opening it up to find memories of the one Malhar which was most special to me.

I am quite the romantic fool at times, am I not?

Day Thirty Three

Today, my co-organiser and I went to college for a Malhar meeting. We met at the station and shared a warm hug. It was so lovely to meet her and the fact that we were now organisers, or, as is the terminology, OGs, was finally sinking in. We sat through that meeting noting down all the important points made (and some silly ones to laugh at later). Later, we reclined in the foyer on the benches and rocky chairs with our feet up to discuss and brainstorm about our events. Not only did we brainstorm, we laughed and shared stories and spoke about Calvin and Hobbes. We thought of pranks to play and demonstrated how to look busy when we aren't.
Sitting there, talking, eating Anna's sheera and drinking Anna's chai, I realized how much I had missed college and its comfort. I loved being in college again, just loved it.

College is beautiful in the evenings.

Day Thirty Two

Today I went to the printers near Bandra station, got a whole bunch of photos printed out, came home, cut them out from the printed sheets, cut out many tiny pieces of tape and asked Ilina to help me to make a collage inside my cupboard.

The photos are from my Calcutta trip. And this is what my cupboard looks like now. It looks like memories.

Day Thirty One

Today, I took an aspiring-actress-friend out for a photoshoot. We were hoping to include a few pictures into her portfolio. We drove to Patwardhan park and went in. There, we shot for about half an hour with people jogging by, wondering what we were up to and looking thoroughly interested. It wasn't until today that I realized this girl has some tremendous potential. I think she'll be successful one day, and I hope people appreciate her when she does.

Day Thirty

The following are excerpts from an application to the Literary Arts department for Malhar that I never used. Being an emotional person, I ended up talking about my personal experiences instead of my ideas and goals. The application that I finally submitted didn't have any of these paragraphs to it, but I'd like to share them with you. I wonder if you'll understand much or any of it. Maybe you will.

" I sat there in the massive Xaviers Hall for the first time listening to Father Fraiser delivering his orientation speech to us starry-eyed FYs. He spoke of Malhar and of its brilliance. He called on the CP to say a few words about it. He spoke passionately yet calmly, exaggerating on how our experience as a Xavierite would be incomplete without Malhar.

On my third day of college, I laid eyes upon the Malhar boards. I stood there staring at the various department charts. I hadn’t realized until then that I had to ‘apply’ to get into a department. Literary Arts called out to me. Its application seemed the most intriguing. I’d have to write a series of mini-essays on topics like “Who’s your favourite literary character and why? Write a story as that character.” and “Beards. For or against?” I decided to write an application for LA simply because I really wanted to write THAT application.

A few days later, I walked into LR37 (Ah, LR 37, you wonderful LA workstation) to be greeted by Cynthia Lewis (OG Niche Quiz) who was busy finishing off a sandwich. Nandan Krishnaswamy (bear-hug-giving OC) and the others walked in soon afterward. Cynthia told me a little about each of their events. From there, they went on to conduct a supremely whacky and unexpected interview. I found myself doing extempore, solving cryptic clues, making up anagrams and talking about food.

Acceptance! I got a phone call from Nandan a few days later who said, in his characteristic deep-but-excited monotone, that I had made it into LA and I could start coming for meetings at 3:30 every day. Little did I know then that LA would soon become an integral part of my life. 

During the summer of ’13, I was in Ladakh working for Snow Leopard Conservancy. I had almost no contact with Mumbai owing to sporadic internet and a dysfunctional sim card. Around the 1^st of May, I was miraculously informed that OG applications needed to be submitted. After getting hold of a phone that worked, I made some calls and finally got through to Ishita Chaudhary, OC LA ’13. I was ecstatic to know that this brilliant woman had made OC and the prospect of working under her as OG was fantastic. She encouraged me to send in my application and agreed to conduct my interview over the phone. However, I had only one night to write my application. I decided to give it a shot. Not knowing exactly what was expected of me, I set out putting down my ideas and thoughts and frantically managed to send my application in by the midnight deadline. (God bless Leh’s cyber cafes.) I knew by then that working on Malhar from Leh wouldn’t be easy. Ishita conducted my interview the next day over the phone and said she’ll get back to me about who made the cut the following day. I wanted to be OG, I really did, especially since I’d get to work with Ishita. When she called to say I hadn’t got the position, I was disappointed. But when she enlisted those who did make it, I wasn’t anymore. Even if I was just a volunteer this year, I was going to be working under some of my best friends and all that mattered then was LAve. 

I filled in my volunteer application and dropped it into the box as soon as SY began. I started work two days later. I walked in for my first meeting in 2013 to find all the OGs sitting around and talking. After a warm welcome, I too settled down and before I knew it, I was brainstorming for Extempore. There was neither awkwardness nor the need for introductions. I was home. And it felt good.

  

I fell in love with LA within my first month of working for Malhar. Even before Malhar’12 kick started, I knew I would be coming back the following year. I feel radiant warmth, a feeling of home every time I walk through the doors of LR 37, slip out of my shoes and put on my thinking cap. LA has become my family. It is what defines me as a person and is nothing short of an obsession. "

  

Well, today, I received a phone call just before I sat down to lunch. It was Ishita, a close friend, who has both inspired and guided me through the past year. She yelled "Congratulations!!" into the phone and informed me of my selection as an Organiser for LA, Malhar'14. I was astounded and could barely get any words out of my mouth. She told me that she was proud and happy, that she knew I deserved it and that she was certain I'd do a good job. My mind was numb and yet, ecstatic. I hugged my whole family with utter joy.

Later that day, I received an email welcoming me to Malhar, to LA. The photo that I'm adding is an excerpt from that long email enlisting both the joys and trying times up ahead. I now brace myself for the days and months that lay in my wait. I'm going to be swamped with work, unreasonable deadlines and raised expectations, and I can't wait to be.