Reflection. - 30th November 2014

I need to sit and introspect. It is sorely needed, I'm afraid. Last semester sort of questioned a lot of things I thought I understood about myself, the things I took for granted. So I've decided to write a bunch of self-reflective essays to pass the time, which serve to achieve a lot of things I needed to do these holidays, thanks to a really good friend who gave me these ideas yesterday as we sat chatting over coffee. Her university held a self-reflective workshop and the concept intrigued me.. might be posting a few exercises soon!

As far as last semester was concerned, it was.. decent. I learnt a lot, jumped a few hurdles and climbed a few mountains. After a year of persevering, I finally got the opportunity to perform a few improv shows. That weekend was definitely the most memorable of all my semesters here at NUS.. and it didnt even take place in NUS!

PC- The Improv  Company

I also made a new group of old friends. That may sound contradicting but it's true.

I gave A LOT OF ADVICE. My advice wasn't as heeded as I would have preferred, but it helped me grow as a person, despite the fact that seldom follow the advice I dish out.

T'was a good sem, and I'm glad I got through it.

Thats all I have to say.

More posts coming up! Sorry for the inactivity, Ive finally got some free time now. HOLIDAYS FTW. 

Monsters

I'm friends with the monsters inside my head.
This lyric from Rihanna and Eminem's "Monster" is something that really hits home.
70% of my waking hours are spent thinking about death. Not my death perse, just death. The finality of it all and the pointlessness of the living. I don't want to die, but at this point I won't mind if a car runs me over.
I want to sleep. For a really long time. I suppose I am just tired. Mentally as well as physically. Unfortunately I can't change this. So I guess I just live with this.
I am fine. Just need a change I guess.
Don't worry.
Calm.

I'm friends with the monster inside my head. 

An Open Letter

My dear friends.

There comes a time in life when you feel like your whole world is coming crashing down around you. The earth stops spinning, the rivers stop flowing, and all the air in your lungs remain stagnant. When it feels like the world has deserted you, do not fret, my friends. It is not as bad as it seems. To have known love as you did and to have flourished in a time where love is scorned upon is truly a beautiful thing. Yes, things did not happen as you envisioned; you did not celebrate anniversaries, did not hear wedding bells or grow old together. But you had the courage to imagine it. Do not lose that courage my friends.
Though I seem hard as stone and as cynical of "love" as a grumpy spinster teetering on the edge of insanity, its only because I do not understand. I may have felt those feelings before but I have never experienced the pure joy of having loved and having been loved in return. But know this, the end of romantic love is not the end of life. It is only a small part, an insignificant speck in the vastness and potential of your lives ahead of you. Though you now feel angry, frustrated and morose, know that tomorrow the sun will break through the clouds and you will see the rainbow again. Who knows, you might see it again in a flash of nostalgia that brings back old feelings, and its not a bad thing!
There are several kinds of love in this world. Agape, Eros, Philia and Storge.  Unconditional mental love, physical passionate love, the love between friends, and the love of your family. These feelings are not necessarily mutually exclusive, and one does not take precedence over the other. This is the only advice I give you, keep your love close. Any kind, it dosent matter which. For at the end of the day it is this love that keeps the world sane. I may not be making much sense (it's probably because I am sleepy) but please bear with me for a few more minutes.

The fact that you were unafraid of loving unconditionally, purely and clearly, shows the steadiness of your beating heart. Don't be afraid to experience those feelings again my friends, because the ache you feel right now shows that there is room in your heart to love some more. God knows, your sadness is making mine ache, too.

If you feel hopeless, know that you are loved, my friends. You are always loved. That is the beauty of this world you see, because everyone is always loved by someone or other at a given point of time.
Like now, I love you my friends, please don't forget that, ever.
Your friend forever,
B 

Oh Captain, My Captain.

"No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world."


These words were said by Robin Williams' character (John Keating, creating an unrealistic image for English teachers everywhere) in Dead Poet's Society. And boy, did he believe it. 

The news of his sudden death has gutted me to the core. I had always assumed that someone with such a vibrant personality, one who brought so much joy and laughter into this world to adults and kids alike would live forever. It seems such a cruel sort of irony that he should take his own life in a fit of depression. 

I've watched his movies as far back as I remember. He was such an integral part of my childhood that I find it hard to believe that people have seen so few of his movies. The first of his movies I remember watching is Flubber. His portrayal of an absent-minded professor was hilarious and perfect. And who can forget Mrs.Doubtfire, remade into so many movies by the Indian film industry. Another movie people tend to forget is Patch Adams, the original father of the Munnabhai MBBS series. 

As a child, watching Aladdin, I had always maintained that the Genie was my all-time favourite Disney character. It was only later that I found out this quirky ball of energy was voiced by Robin Williams himself. It is said that Disney was left with over 16 hours of improvised material, most of it inappropriate for children. 

Which brings me to why he was truly my hero. His comedic talent and love of accents inspired a little girl in the suburbs of an unknown Middle Eastern country to try her own voice out. His razor sharp wit and quick comebacks made her want to strive to bring people laughter and happiness too. He was more than just an actor, he was an inspiration. He also features in my favorite episode of Whose Line is it Anyway?. 

One might ask how such a wondrous, happy and hilarious personality was left crumbling with depression in his life. This is where I get truly serious.

I have always believed that India in particular has been sorely ignorant (or just reluctant to discuss, like so many other topics we won't mention) on the subject of mental illnesses. 
"Why are you depressed? Snap out of it! Aren't you happy that your family is alive and well? That you have a job? It's just a phase it will go." 

Repeat after me:
THERE IS NO SOLID CAUSE FOR DEPRESSION.
Again.
ANYBODY, AND I MEAN ANYBODY CAN GET DEPRESSION.
Again.
IT CAN TAKE YEARS TO COME OUT OF DEPRESSION.
Again.
IT IS LIFE THREATENING.

If you know someone going through this, get your awkward narrow-minded ass out of your chair and HELP THEM.  Robin Williams proved that anyone can go through this terrible thing and it is something not to be taken lightly. How many more people need to die before you can see this? 

As for Rockin' Robin, Oh Captain, My Captain, My hero and comedic role model, you will be missed. All around the world, everywhere.
Genie, you're free. 

A (Large) Note on South Indian Weddings

The previous weekend involved me attending a wedding in Chennai and coming out of it more or less unscathed. Thankfully this wedding did not bleed an array of different colours and at no time did I feel threatened or did "Rains of Castamere" play, so I heave a large sigh of relief.
One does wonder what kind of rituals require a wedding to extend over  period of five days when most of the other cultures finish it in two. It begins with an "engagement" of sorts, although the couple have more or less been engaged for six months or so, leads into a main wedding day with the actual process of being "wed" followed by a reception in the evening. The next day is also fraught with rituals one never understands because no one ever had the habit of questioning anything in their youth.

1.Entertainment through observation (and a failed proposal) 
Since I had mostly no company the whole time, my day was spent either reading, or watching people; the old women sitting in circles and gossiping about one family member or another, old men discussing the latest sports news (it's not a stereotype, I was listening) , young kids running around screaming and knocking over chairs and making you want to drown them in the sambhar, and youngish girls checking out youngish guys, hoping they aren't too closely related by blood. (I am guilty of this :P having oggled a guy I thought was about my age before finding out he was 28 and in want of a wife o.o)
Funny Story: The mum of the same dude I was checking out realised that my mum is very beautiful; in a desperate hope that her daughter looked like her (sorry to disappoint you, woman -.-) asked my grandmother to marry me to her son; then having actually seen me in person, decided I was a child (having  glanced at my face and chest, no doubt, assuming I was about 13 years old) and profusely apologized for the confusion.
Note to Readers: For those of you not from the Southern regions of India, I should inform you that arranged marriages are still very much rampant. And family weddings are the perfect spot for old ladies with children of marriageable age to prowl; waiting to pounce on some poor unsuspecting bachelor with talons holding out wedding proposals. Which probably explains my growing social anxiety for family gatherings.

2.The Process of Eating.
The process of providing the food is large ordeal; not only for the hosts, but frankly for the guests as well. Don't get me wrong, the food is beyond amazing, and usually the prime incentive for most of the guests' attendance. Except that the food comes in a specific order on a banana leaf which leaves no friction for the eater to consume his food in any normal manner; specially since the sweet payasam (kheer) is served first directly on the leaf and the first five minutes consists of everyone trying to somehow lick it off their fingers. If not successfully cleaned, the sweet eventually runs into all the subsequent courses and generally creates a huge mess. Then there's your fellow eaters (?); generally consisting of charming sights like large dark males licking their entire hand as curd runs down their fingertips; also large dark females making large slurping noises as they throw rice into their mouths.
If this wasn't distracting enough, the videographers ambush you with their large cameras with glaring lights; leaving you stranded like a deer in the headlights with food hovering halfway to your mouth; whilst the servers keep piling more onto your leaf. For there is one fact never disputed; There is absolutely NO METHOD to eat South Indian food glamorously.

3.Ritualistic Torment
Feeling terribly sorry for the actual couple itself was something I was constantly doing for those three days. Donned in the heaviest of silks and flowery garlands that generally weigh a ton, they are forced to sit for hours in front of a flame which constantly blows smoke in their eyes. When the knot is finally tied (We South Indians love to take things literally; in this case a necklace called a thaali is tied around the bride by the groom) they zoom into the terrified faces of the happy couple and you just know they are thinking about the subsequent consummation (as are the entire freakin auditorium). The reception is the time to put the couples on display; hours of meeting, greeting and photographing as the couple get more and more exhausted and its written so clearly on their faces that they regret inviting so many. The next morning has rituals as well; the couple show up at the temple again, and whoever is there needs to dissolve sprouts in a bucket; symbolizing fertility and germination and the prospect of a growing family (yay more people to invite in the future). Not to mention the fact that these rituals happen at ungodly hours, prompting a wake up call at 4 am.

Overall I had a lot of fun. Fairly obvious. This blog post is merely an expression for my disdain for the pointless rituals that concern Indian weddings, rather than this particular wedding itself. Also a proof that I am still alive.

Valar Morghulis.

Wanderlust

Wanderlust (n).- A strong desire to travel the world.
Have you ever felt that urge? The strong almost physically painful desire to explore, to experience the infinite world. To wake up in a different city everyday; to eat different food and speak different tongues.

I sometimes envy people who seem content; they are so happy staying put in the place where they were born; happy to settle and live. The reason is that my wanderlust hurts. It is painful beyond existence. For a major side effect of wanderlust is frustration; that vexation of not being able to quench that thirst of yours. For the billion or so reasons you can't travel (economic/family issues) just add to your blood pressure of wanting to get the hell out of the place you are currently stuck in.

And I'm not talking family sight-seeing sprees; I'm talking week long treks completely alone, just you and your camera, no package tour for you; just pure exploration. Going completely hipster here but you know what I mean- albums of highly filtered landmarks and coffee shops. Beautiful architecture and wonderful people. All this completely alone.

And even if you did have the chance to see wonderful places, it is never enough. For wanderlust is something that you can never quench; leaving you with this life-long feeling of dissatisfaction enough to drive any self-respecting person crazy.
I guess for now, London and Paris will have to wait.

Existential Crises

Notice the Plural. Crises. While normal people question their existence probably once or twice in their lifetime (See- "Mid-Life Crisis"), I seem to do this once a month.

The dictionary defines an Existential Crisis as "a moment at which an individual questions the very foundations of his or her life: whether his or her life has any meaning, purpose or value."

That pretty much sums it up. The sudden moment in your life when bolt upright in your bed wide-eyed and ask yourself just what the Felix Felicis you are doing with your life. Whether your life would ever amount to anything, whether you are making your life count. This however has some dire consequences, one of which includes you wondering whether you should bother doing anything with your life at all since you are going to die eventually anyway.  You're left to ponder the pointlessness of your existence in a lonely corner of your room while all your friends are out partying on a Friday night. 

You are left pretty much looking like this

I shall introduce a new term at this point: "The Mini Crisis" *cue widespread thunder and lightning*. This is something I get approximately twice a week, specially after consulting with my tutor in studio, and once every hour after crit. This crisis is the kind you get when you are fine with most of your life, except your career goals, or your passions. You're perfectly ok with how you live, your friend circle, what you guys do to hang out; basically you're short term goals are sorted out. It's when you surface after a particularly bad bout of criticism that you start questioning details of your life. What am I doing? Why did I take this course? Why am I doing a degree if I dont like it? I wanted to do something else, why am I doing this?


 The people who tell you not to compare yourself with others are spouting utter Bolshevik. We bloody live in a system that FRICKIN GRADES YOU ON COMPARISON. NOT ON HOW WELL YOU ARE DOING INDIVIDUALLY, BUT HOW WELL YOU ARE DOING WITH RESPECT TO OTHERS. Then HOW IN THE NAME OF MERLIN'S SAGGY Y-FRONTS can you not compare yourself to other people? Literally everyone I know is doing an internship over the summer. Literally. Everyone. And I'm sitting here telling myself I'll learn skills over the summer to get me a really good job next year. WHY? Why does every single thing in this frickin system, society and otherwise make us feel like a piece of shit? 

Then there's that mini heart attack you get when you realise that you are no longer a child and the world dosen't just combine effortlessly to do your bidding. I once had a panic attack just lying on my bed and THINKING about all my future responsibilities. I then curled up under my blanket and cried for half an hour. Talk about denial. 

You know the worst thing? When you see people you know actually doing something useful. Just when you thought you were doing fine and BAM  you relapse into the curled up ball of mess you were when you were questioning your life.

Dragging yourself out of it is quite hard, but it is vital that you do. Because as much as you feel that the world has come to a stop so that you can get out of your little crisis, guess what, life goes on. You'll need to pull yourself together as fast as possible because if you dont,  you will get left behind. Don't let your career choice impede your passion. Do things that make you happy. If you can't, well, suck it up and move on.

Rant Over. Peace Out. 

Time Flies - 11th May 2014

It's been almost five months since my last post. Yikes! I haven't written at all this sem, and I'm disappointed in myself. The stories that fill my head can traverse volumes and volumes, yet my laziness keeps them in my mind. Oh, if only it was possible to imagine a world and it literally comes to life in front of you.
You know what else would be useful? Hermione's goddamn bag. Yes, that little bag which can fit billions of little infinities. I'm a bitter little thing at the moment as I just came out of the semi-annual moving spree. Moving out of my room every sem is the single most annoying thing that NUS can ever make anyone do and it just irks the crap out of  me. Oh my God, another sem has just travelled through my life without so much as a warning. So let's explore this semester shall we?

What did I do this semester?
Looking back at it now, I honestly don't remember working (sorry mum, but it's a fact). The past four months have been full of performances, outings, and shows.I finally survived enough to be backstage at a Bollywood show (which was a success every time I saw it; a show that thoroughly immortalized the thirteen or so songs they used in more ways than one). I also performed in my first ever Improv show; something I've been dying to do ever since I first saw "Whose Line is It Anyway?" on TV!

Speaking of performances, I seemed to be watching a lot this semester. Watched a couple of plays live (it's funny because it was my first time actually watching a show which wasn't produced in school), one of which was my all time favourite musical "My Fair Lady" in MBS!
Let's not forget NUS's best module ever, TS1101E; seriously guys, if you still dont know what to do about your Arts GEM, just take it. It leads you through the world of theatre on the basic level, and gives you the opportunity to hone your acting and performance skills. I rediscovered several passions in this module, and also had a lot of fun doing an Irish Accent and watching real plates get smashed on stage for our Practical

Final!
Oh on this half of  the year falls my Birthday Month: my wonderful gifts made up for my intense workload. Not to mention this video made by my friends which raises the bar for great birthday gifts to a whole new level.
I'll leave the best for last: TARANG. Every year, the Indians of three big universities in Singapore (In this case NUS, NTU and SIM) gather for a solid month of fun and games, competing for the prestigious (haha) TARANG Champions cup (sponsored by Moshi Moshi Bollywood :P )
Won first place with my amazing group in the Comedy Drama (wherein I played a badass- chappal- throwing- Bong- accented Mamta No-Darjee) and had the honour to watch the most talented people on stage with the Western and Indian Bands and the Dance. I look back at that experience now and don't regret a second of it. All those hours practising late into the night, the lost Tarang Weekend, and the after-party (not to mention the glorious friends I made) will forever be inscribed in my heart as one of my fondest memories.

In a nutshell, this semester has been a semester of ups and downs, same as always, except that the roller coaster ride was a fun one. Looking forward a summer of learning and new things. BRING IT ON THIRD YEAR!