Paper-cut Epiphany

I cut my finger today as I was organizing old photographs with my family. It was a photo of my younger cousin, Sid, who was most probably two or three at the time. He was sitting on an old sofa in our apartment in Edison, and looked quite defiant in pair of blue rain boots and bright turquoise overalls. The funny thing about the shot is that the sun was shining only on his eyes and nose, and the rest of the living room had this dark orange tint. He has big lips, Sid does. I think it runs in my family.

Is it too much to ask for an apology, maybe some repentance? Or possibly some sort of sign that whatever occurred in the past was a mistake? I believe so. It sort of is sad to be a lone-star. One never really knows what else is happening in the world besides in the one he holds dear to himself. This year revolves around midnight study sessions, warm tea, and my bedroom. Just me, myself, and I.

These days in which I am stuck inside my house for prolonged periods of time, I think. About life, and death, and everything in between. "Everything happens for a reason." I am horrible with the word trust. I cringe at the fact that people around the world mourn for weeks over somebody they were close to, and then take no time whatsoever to forgive when that person crawls right back to them.

Am I the worst kind of person imaginable? One who only wants what is fair. Or, possibly, a lost soul who wants nothing but peace. How quaint.

All we can do now, my dear Watson, is wait.

Renewal?

Nose currently buried deep within- Like Water for Chocolate: A Novel in Monthly Installments with Recipes, Romances, and Home Remedies by Laura Esquivel.


We're Going to Be Friends- The White Stripes


Snow, snow and more snow. And sadness, as it appears that this school year is the worst. Midterms commenced a few hours back, and English is done and over with. I feel like the only things to console me these days are warm socks and The Beatles. The despised flurries fall almost as if in heaps, and I can't help but wonder what the balmy weather must be like in India at this very moment.

Visit India one day if you enjoy the vibrant hues of the spectrum. Trust me, there is no such thing as tackiness when it comes to clothing and appearance. It's a panorama of sights, smells, sounds, and experiences. What's not to love in adventure?

I don't think I have lost myself these past few months. I am proud to say I know where I am, and what I wish to be. Doesn't that give you a sense of hope, what with the dismal weather and stresses of life? 

Alas, I have forced myself not to watch the third season of Skins UK until after midterms!

She wishes to disappear from the face of the Earth.

Like a small speck of dust left on your coat

pocket, like warm breath after a hot chocolate

battling strong and hard against the frozen

December air. Laugh in all of your undaunted,
fickle amusement. Your chutzpah might as well be
punished.

Paychecks and Predicaments

...and good music.

Whenever I receive a paycheck, it gives me this uplifting joy, and it honestly is the one thing that is giving me great happiness in my life. It's a mediocre high school job, and the pay in minimum wage, but I could care less. It goes to a couple of new college textbooks if I'm in for a splurge, or possibly a month's worth of rent in an apartment somewhere in my near future. So, I guess it's a dim light in the dark, hazy existence I call life.

I am always in some sort of unusual trouble when it comes to my emotions. That, and the actions of others that inevitably affect my well-being. The past few days I have been completely off the loop. On a regular Friday evening, I spent time with my family and did more than half of my pending homework. I haven't done that in months, for "procrastination is key" has been my motto for about three years in the making. I just am incredibly confused, and I am not sure if I can call it hurt, yet it's possible.

Disclaimer to any who read the following: it will baffle you if you are not familiar with my life, so therefore, most of you. If you are, well, this is my way of coping. Basically, another way to answer that constant question: what (or who) do I live for?

Ti, A Drink with Jam & Bread

As of now, tears are flowing through my eyes and down my cheeks. I don't even know why. My whole body feels numb. The crying is not induced by my cold, or because of physical pain, it's internal anguish.

I had a splendid conversation with my mother just now, all sarcasm aside. I could see her with brand new eyes, and for the first time (in quite a long time) she spoke to be with no anger or bewilderment caused by my actions. She spoke to me as a friend. Our conversation lasted all but a half an hour, yet I spoke to her like I haven't spoken to her in ages, millenniums. She entered my room asking for a Chinese tofu noodle recipe, and before I knew it, we were speaking like old times, not as mother and daughter, but as long-time pals, girlfriends from college.

I asked her the views she had on life these days. From gay marriages to the internet, she told me what she felt. I had never been so connected to her. It was as if I could finally see her as someone I had known for years as a partial stranger at times, seen from a distance, yet now I know everything there is to her. Trust me, after sixteen years and now finally realizing my mother's true psyche, it's drastically life-changing.

Family is valued substantially in Indian culture. My mother, being one who spent her childhood and adolescence in that country, has different views on life than an American mother. I asked her what she would feel about me marrying a man other than an Indian. I was afraid of what she might say. I asked,

"Mom, if I were to come up to you one day in the future and declare to you my love for a man, say to you 'he is the highlight of my life and I cannot live without him.' Yet, he is not Indian. What would you say to me?"

She sat for a couple of seconds, looking past me. She met my gaze again and told me she would love and support me no matter what. She understood that the social implications of this country are far different from the male-dominated society back in her homeland. Modern generations, in her eyes, focus on the internet, text messaging, cyber-sex, online dating, and Facebook, things she never had as a child. When I, on the other hand, do. She looked me square in the eye and said the following words.

"You will most definitely come across this one day. Being the bright yet emotional girl that you are, you will face this decision. I want you to know that when it comes to me, I will like any boy that you choose. Please, just let him have a good family background, for the upbringing of a man means the most to me. It affects his personality. His family is who he is, he has an undying and eternal connection to them, that is, if he is a nice boy. One who can love his family is one who can love you. Keep this in mind."

I stared at her, letting her words seep through me, let me crumble, like ice cream melting on a warm slice of apple pie, taking in all of its essence and goodness.

"Also, Rucha, know that as you will get older, the impact of having a family with two different heritages and cultures intertwined will be judged. You will need a great deal of time to adjust to it all. You can love whomever you choose, but know that he will always love his family and culture as well. Sometimes...others will not see this."

She concluded by letting me know that she could see so much of her inside of me. My personality and the way I view the world is almost identical to hers. Tonight, after even one of the shortest conversations with my mother, I broke down into tears. It forced me to look at my life with new (yet at the moment, slightly blurry) eyes. What am I doing? What is my goal? Who am I doing this for? The choices are finally manifesting themselves in my mind, yet which ones do I choose? My mother, I realized can guide me well. I just need to learn to listen.

I feel pained that I have not spent time with someone recently. We were quite connected in the past, and my life as of now has become too busy, and I regret saying that I do not know when I will be able to see him again like I used to. Sometimes, I wish I could let go of my life right now. Yet, just like my mother said, when people have no connections to their cultures, no ties to their family, it leads them to do the wrong things. The immoral ones. Tonight I realized that I am doing all of the right things that I am for one thing: my loving, caring family.

On a lighter side of things, I am also watching The Sound of Music with my younger brother. He finds it hilarious that everyone can sing and dance in a normal setting, and no one would consider them even the least bit crazy. How I wish the world was truly like that.

Happy Christmas decorating, all. (:

One Syllable, One Million Implications

It irritates me when people are against love. "It's something handed down to us. It's magic." Yeah, yeah. I'd jump in front of a train for you, I'd do anything for you. Of course you will. You love me because you're my mother. Or my father. 

It's those significant others you have to watch out for. For us youngsters, society leads us to believe that love is an integral part of life. It's simply "magnificent" and who wouldn't want someone to stay awake with them and to cuddle with, and stare at? It's just that teenagers are incapable of realizing that love at this time is better focused toward family, and themselves. Loving yourself is the first step to loving others, is it not? When people say they "don't believe in love," it's understandable, yet are they heartless idiots with no family? Or no sense of self pride? They "love" what society wants them to love. I personally have not experienced a sort of love one gives to a significant other, but I don't go bashing around others who might be falling into its obvious, inevitable trap. Being well-rounded and accepting of others' characteristics comes with doing just that: accepting. Seeing that people are all different, and, quelle surprise! So are you.

The media is good for one thing: brainwashing the younger generations toward a common goal. Sure, that's youth, is it not? But when adolescence passes by and adult responsibilities come with time, where is this poor child headed? What does he need to see the light? I say indie music should rule the world. And Doc Martens. Until, sadly enough, those become unoriginal, and then society is back to square one. 

Human influence: 1. 

Human intelligence: 0.

Whoops.

Hey, Confusion. Why don't you come around?

So, I feel hurt and just plain old down in the dumps today. Is that even a regular saying anymore? The day started off unexpected, for I had a plan to go into the city with an old friend. Yet now I sit here, alone, and wonder what that girl is exactly thinking and going through at this moment.

The story goes as follows: I have a friend, let's call her Geraldine. Now, Geraldine came here from a foreign country. She does not live with her parents, yet lives with her Aunt, and her husband, accompanied by her other cousins, who are in the same situation as she is in. They have come to America to study and go to college, to basically start a different life. She has far less privileges than your average American teenager, for I guess she is trying to prove herself, to both her parents, as well as her Aunt, and even herself.

What I don't understand is: when she is faced with a problem in which she wishes to do something for herself, in other words, to have some freedom, why doesn't she fight for it? Geraldine, for lack of better words, "loves" to work. Schoolwork, community service, church labor, about any work that a teenager could partake in. Hell, she would get a job, that is, if she could.

She never has time for herself. Absolutely never, ever. Don't even ask her! This, my friends, is my best bud. My "BFFL." Tell me now, do you see something wrong with this?

She needs help, preferably some sort of therapeutic relaxation from the everyday life of a high school junior. She also needs to be able to sense that freedom and a break is necessary to actually live. You are a teenager, goddamn it. Please just realize this, for the sake of those who actually wish to see you every once in a while. You know, to check if you're alive or not...

It just hit me that I am currently obsessed with the so-called pop phenomenon Bruno Mars. If anyone has heard of this guy, please just look him up. Far beyond your average pop garbage these days, and an actual down-to-earth, talented kid. Not to mention quite adorable.

I've just been living on the edge the past few months since school has started. You ever feel like everything you live for is just focused on this one single thing and there's nothing you can do but fight for it? No compromising, no loopholes in that contract called life. Just live and make the best of what you are given.

Currently reading: Brave New World. By Aldous Huxley. Damn good book, with loads of 1) insight and 2) allusions. My two favorite things!

If I had gone to the city: ramen would be the first thing I would have eaten. Simply scrumptious, a Japanese delight, obviously involving noodles and a spicy broth. Plus many other appetizing things...

Time to do what I do best. Sit on my ass and watch old re-runs of That 70's Show, with leftover turkey and a warm fireplace.

Have a wonderful night.

3:03 AM

Oh, insomnia, you have arrived once again to haunt me.
This morning I watched a short film entitled "Lucia" and it was unquestionably wonderful in its own ways, yet sort of creepy. It focused on childhood fears, and you can imagine the basics. Even if it was presented in Chilean-Spanish, the voice was spine-tingling, nonetheless.

I have SAT class in six hours and just realized I have done absolutely no homework for it. Oh, seems like no sleep tonight. Last night's 10 hour snooze makes up for it, does it not?

Ah, and there's that question lurking in the corner with Turkey-Day arriving soon.

What am I thankful for?

1. my mother and father and brother, Aryan
2. my close friendships
3. music
4. my bedroom, with all of its intricate qualities that make up the reasons I love it
5. clementines, lots and lots of clementines
6. the internet
7. medical advancement
8. my education
9. traveling
10. love, if and when I actually am able to embrace and express it

Just ten things, I guess...

If it's one thing I am sure of, it's the fact that it's getting colder here in the East coast!

 Those leaves have fallen and wintry breezes have begun to blow in, leaving me yearning for a warm blanket and a heated fireplace every now and then. 

I just finished memorizing my poem for the school's annual Poetry Out Loud contest. It's called "Crepuscule with Muriel" by Marilyn Hacker. Quite lovely. Here's an excerpt:

" Late afternoon light, transitory, licks

the place of the absent cup with its rough tongue, flicks

itself out beneath the wheel's revolving spoke.

Taut thought's gone, with a blink of attention, slack,

a vision of "death and distance in the mix"

(she lost her words and how did she get them back

when the corridor of a day was a lurching deck?

The dream-life logic encodes in nervous tics

she translated to a syntax which connects

intense and unfashionable politics

with morning coffee, Hudson sunsets, sex;

then the short-circuit of the final stroke,

the end toward which all lines looped out, then broke)."

Read the entire poem here. [x]




I must finish these outlines and possibly take a nap sometime soon. Goodnight, world.

My Start

Currently listening to: She's Got You High by Mumm-Ra


Most say life is full of chances. Others contemplate that it's a justification of the risks one take. For me, life is about the simplicities, extravagances, and fulfilling conversations that come with being a teenager. School is my life as of now, and I would like to say that it has come to one thing: grades. "Striving for that perfect GPA will be worth it in the end," I tell myself day after day. But will it, really?

What if I end up in as someone who leads a horrible life? What then? I could have gone to Med school, why the hell not. Yet what if that God out there says "Oh look, Rucha's about to be happy. Better go get her."

Then?

What my true question to the world and myself is:
Will the struggles I go through now really turn out for the best, or is it just a mistake on my part to even go through with them in the first place.

I procrastinate. Trust me, I do. Any work I have quickly whisked away like sweat on a marathon runner's eyebrow. It's forgotten and more appealing things manifest in my mind. Short films, or perhaps a late-night watching of (500) Days of Summer will do the trick. As I sit here, the warmth from my electric heater radiating to bring life into my dark, empty room, I wish for the thrills of summer. The careless, humid nights where I could sit on my rooftop and sing songs and talk on the phone all night long, and nobody would care.

It was just me and myself and I.

But then school came along.

Maybe now is some time for Froot Loops and a cold glass of soy milk.