My Past Is My Past

Don't ask me why I did what I did. Don't question me about something I did out of my ignorance, years ago. It's over. I've moved on. I don't keep the bad memories with me. There are mistakes that I have done, and yes, it's over.
Don't ask me now why I was like that then. Don't preach to me now. I am not answerable to you. Telling me about my past doesn't make a difference to me now because nothing is going to change.
 I know. I don't need to hear it from you. I don't want to talk about it and you can't force me.
I don't care what you think of me. My past is my past. We learn from our mistakes. I'm different now. Passing year's have changed me. Don't judge me. I don't care. I know what I am. If you think I need to explain myself to you to prove what I am, I'm not going to.
My past is my past. 

Being Fashionably Late Is Not Fashionable. (unless you're a celebrity that is)

You know when people call you to  a party say around 12pm and that party is happening at one of the most sexiest pubs in the city?  You should be there by 12 pm.DOT. Why? I'll tell you.
People think that being a late is fashionable-it is, if your going to the birthday parties happening at some coffee shop or resto-NOT when you are going clubbing. If your late by a half hour at the club, it gets so packed, there wont be place to walk. I had an experience yesterday. The party started at 1, my friends and I went around 3pm, OMG. there was hardly room to stand. it was so overly full. forget dancing, hardly place to even STAND. The dance floor was out of question. We don't hold hands for 2 seconds, we're  lost in the crowd. It was horrible. Sure the crowd was great, the music was awesome, but the pushing and no place for standing was just plain sad. I didn't feel like partying at all. So I learnt my lesson, and the next time I go clubbing, I'll make sure I'm there within the first half hour.

That's Why It's Called A Phase.

There have been so many instances where I hear my friend's go "ooh, I wish I could still be in school" or "I wish   that things hadn't changed" or "I miss that place, wish I could go back", I mean yea, okay, you miss it but why would you want to go back?
The human mind is really contradicting in that area. When we are in school, we see the big girl's and we go, "I wish I was like her", "I did the same thing that she did", "Wish I could just grow up fast!" and stuff like that, and once we're all out and done, we see those places we were so desperately trying to get out of and we now want to go back.
I personally don't do that. When we grow up, we also tend to move forward in our lives. We go up the ladder. Sure, there's nostalgia flying all over the place when you see the small stands you and you're friends used to eat at, but it was a phase. Why would you want to go back? Given a chance to enjoy you're entire life in one phase, would you take that? Would you not want to grow up and make something more?
I never missed what I had gone through. There were of course some extremely bad and some majorly good times, but I would never want to go back. It was a phase, and I'm done. I had fun and that's that. I got a whole new life ahead of me that's so much more exciting! Just the thought of moving from one level to another shows how much we grow, and I think we should appreciate that and be like "I can't wait for what's next" rather than "I wish I could go back".
It's a phase. That's how everything in life will be. Get over it and move on. 

My Articles

I'm part of the site India Study Channel, where I write articles and post them.  (which I've mentioned before, about it in my previous blog). So basically I wrote on a bunch of different topics- abstract, political,etc.
I'm putting up the links for a few of my favourtie. Hope you enjoy!


1.Global & Indian Economic Crisis-causes, effects and solutions.
2.The healthy way of celebrating Ganesh Chathurthi.
3.What is orientalism?
4.Is the world a subjective term differing on the basis of perception?
5.Can auditor's be blamed for the losses of the company?
6.The 70 year old hero of Japan
7.Why Gandhi chose the Non-violent movement?
8.Right to Information Act
9.India's battles & the ruling of Peshawas.

You can check out my other articles from here My resources.

Don't get on the bus.

I travel by the APSRTC buses of Hyderabad. I've been going by these buses for a few months now and have learnt the bus-culture (exclusively metros and air conditioned buses).  There are 2 chairs reserved at the starting of the bus only for senior citizens and physically handicapped. (Hyderabad buses reserves the front part of the bus for women and the back for men).  Generally women, PHC and older citizens can grab those seats, but if any one else other older citizens sit in them, and the oldies start coming in, then we have to get up.
What REALLY ticks me off is the fact that, certain old people who climb onto these buses DEMAND that we get up and actually make this finger-pointing motion to us in a very derogatory way.
Yes, you are old. We respect your wisdom, your experiences and your age, but that is not how you request people to get up.
I mean-you have the energy to walk up to the bus-stop, the energy to climb and make your way through the heavily populated crowd at the front of the bus-door, but you don't have the energy to stand your way to your next stop? What about those who travel from one end of the city to the other? They have to get up just because you think your too old to stand? HELLO.
If you think you don't have to stand in a bus just because you are old, and even though you are in perfect condition, DON'T CLIMB ONTO ONE. Save us the seat. Simple.

The Smell That Traveled Across The World.

In the bus. Staring out the window with my head against the glass, aimlessly looking at the moving people and vehicles definitely made my eye-lids slowly droop.  The sun falling on my face only made me more lazier. People yelling, people climbing onto the bus, the bus jolting-didn't make a difference to me. My head started to hurt since it was tilted to one side. I slowly adjusted my-self, ending up being in the same position as before. The bus started to turn and I opened my eyes to this very spring-like smell. I know this smell. 9 years ago when I went for a field-trip, holding hands walking in two's. We were going to a park. The same smell. Nostalgia engulfed me till I opened my eyes and smiled and looked around. I'm not there though. I'm here.  Among the honking of cars and traffic jams. Among the road's of India. Thousand's of miles away from that field trip. The bus turned onto a bridge and the smell no longer existed. With my smile still dancing upon my lips, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the breeze once again.

Morning.Rain.Me.

I wake up to the mild wetness on my face.I realise that my window was open and it had just started raining. The breeze blowing against my purple curtains and into my room sent chills up my spine only making me pull my blanket tighter around me. I squinted while I looked out of my window.  Greyness engulfing the everything. Depressing. The rain now pouring harder against the buildings made the weather seem sad and sorrowful. The smell of wet Earth was refreshing, and in the distance, a dog howling made me think whether it found shelter from the sky's occasional moody moments. Brushing the hair falling on my eyes away, I slowly got up. Taking off the blankets- with the chilliness pressing against me, seemed very challenging. Not able to appreciate the scenery with a sense of respect made me stagger forward lazily towards the window and close it.  Giving one last look to the mournful beyond, I pulled the curtains close, walked back to my bed and climbed into it.