SaumyaRants

 I wrote this poem a while ago, seems like when I was 15. I thought it'd be a fitting post around the time my twenties are about to begin.   Stop whining to play on the swing, to slide down the slide, laughing through the wind. You're too old for it this time, Act Your Age. You still wanna play pretend? What a weirdo, If you choose to do that, I'm not gonna be your friend,  Act Your Age. "Too old to play with toys now!" I don't know who defined that. I just wanted to buy that plushie-cat. Contary to my belief, however, now one must Act Your Age. Why does she still dress like a child? With her friends, she still runs wild. Put that down, You must study now, You're in high school, you must Act Your Age. Whoever said this, however, and most of the time, it is my brain forgot the most basic thing, the ever so simple thought. While one is 15 they're also 12,10,8, and 5, are they not? And so if I ever hear this again, from others or my own head, I'll tel...

 The journey back home begins with a sigh of fulfillment followed by a thought of determination. Armed with the metro card which brings me immense convenience, I walk briskly and quickly from the college to the metro station, eager to reach the comfort of my home, to my lovely mother and her delicious and nutritious food, to my cute dog which demands pets, to my  bed which seems to call me with great appeal.  Although the destination is fated and the end always provides huge relief, it is not without obstacles and temptations. The surroundings also provide amusement.  Ignoring the appetising aroma of the bhel puri, momo, and ice cream and refusing to join in with the crowds relishing in their taste, I walk further to climb the stairs in a little effort to maintain my fitness. Quickly taking my bottle out of my bag before putting it through the security scan, and getting scanned myself, I head upstairs, wondering whether the sound of the metro is the one I have to sit...

 I ditched my school farewell to go on a trip to Shimla with my mom and her friends. I don't regret it one bit.  I have spoken before about how I'm not particularly attached to my school in The End of School Life . So missing my farewell was not that big of a deal for me. Shimla was spectacular and the trip of a lifetime. Shimla is known for being beautiful. It is straight out of a fairytale. The mountains, the roads, the shops, all are very remarkable and unique.  The mountainous streets were very tiring and new to us plain dwelling creatures. There is an absence of autos in the roads of Shimla and instead there are only buses which were no less than a roller coaster for me, with the meandering roads which also decrease and increase in elevation. During the night the mountains, with their lights look like a grand tapestry. I bought a bubbles toy which made huge bubbles- bigger than I had ever seen before. The sellers blowed them on the street which made the already surre...

 In this post I'm going to recount a few fond memories with my paternal grandfather, Babaji. Most of these are of the time when he used to pick me up from school for a few months in fourth grade. He used to pick me up from the front field of our school and we walked back to the car, often holding hands. I often found a small stone to kick along the way. In the car, there would be always waiting for me a pillow and a bottle of cold water. It felt no less than luxury. He asked me eagerly what I learned in school. I remember one time I told him I had learned a new word- unique. He asked me what it's meaning was and I said different. But that's not an exact synonym, and he explained the nuance in the different meaning of the two words. I remember, earlier he had explained to me the same way how the Hindi words बाल and केश differed from each other. Since he used to pick me up from the field, where a lot of my classmates were waiting to be picked up too, I often asked them how ol...

 I finally got done with school. It was the end of the fourteen years of my life- all spent in the same school. It was supposed to be bittersweet, nostalgic, melancholic and emotional, at least, that's what all media taught me. It wasn't. I loved that it was finally ending. Perhaps it was the lack of vacations for years in a row, the lack of deep friendships, my dip in academic performance, or it could have been the fact that it did not feel like the same school anymore. In 14 years, the school had not only managed to completely change its buildings, but the prayers said in the assembly, its teaching style, its uniform, its colour scheme, the house names, the children's park, its symbol, the copy and book covers, almost everything. Imagine the classroom walls, chairs, tables, staircases, corridors looking almost completely different from your first memories of the school. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for the wider staircases, the ACs, and the washrooms being miles ...

  I think most of us could write something on this title. However, as I have grown and seen how my peers talk about their mothers, and admire mine, I have realized she is not just my mother, but my best friend. Many a times I have heard classmates talk about how one cannot tell everything to their parents, and I have and silently disagreed. To her love not only for me but for everyone, her hardworking nature, her impeccable cooking skills, and her passion, I have learned and have yet to learn a lot from her. Her oiling and combing my hair almost everyday, and her telling me which clothes to wear as I have negative amount of fashion sense. I got awesome hand me downs from her,  I like to wear them. I find it very beautiful and quaint that I'm wearing clothes that she did when she was younger, and almost every time she says, "I can't believe that used to fit me?" I could go on and on about her cooking, I am not joking when I say that the food she cooks is better than th...

 I have had some experience with van life, and have even mentioned it in my " Different Saumyas " post. No, I'm not talking about selling my house and living in a van like recent social media trends might have you thinking, I'm simply talking about commuting to school and back in a van. Like I said in the post linked above, it definitely contributed to my personality. I am not the kind of person who would just not say anything when somebody attempts to be rude anymore. It has also given me a few of my fond memories. One very rainy day, the streets had flooded and the van stopped on the road. The driver (who was the worst out of all I had during my van life) simply stepped out of the car and went into some unknown abyss out of our sight without saying a word . This lack of concern for us was not uncharacteristic of him, more on that later. The van currently had a girl my age, a boy a couple years junior, and of course, me. All was fine and well and we continued chattin...

 Executive Dysfunction is when the brain and body refuse to cooperate. The brain wants to do something, but the body is doing something else. It is different from procrastination such that the person is actively wanting to do the task at hand, instead of leaving it for their future self, but is unable to do so. This makes it difficult for the person to not only do academic or professional tasks, but also the easy and important stuff, like chores or hobbies. Here's a short poem by me, inspired from my experience. I sit in my room  being 'lazy' like always I tell myself that I'm going to  finally change my ways  But at this point I know that it is all a lie I tell myself lets go But I don't comply what is this confusion I can't listen to myself Executive dysfunction greeting me again

 During my board exams, there was a gap of three days after one exam. There happened to be a fair in my city. My parents decided to take me to it. Over there I saw some of the most beautiful and intricate metal work, glass work, waxwork, handicrafts, sarees, and artworks I had ever seen. While it is good that the government is organising such fairs to empower artists, I couldn't help but wonder why these artists had to lead a lifestyle the way they did. I think it is general knowledge that usually even the richer artisans are lower middle class at best.                                             The 'starving artist' stereotype is widespread. However the Indian artisans are different from the lone, starving western artist. The artisan's work is very often being done for...

 We are all familiar with how people generally think that men are superior to women. All of us know how on average, men are much stronger and taller than women. However, the ways in which women are superior to men, for the most part, remain hidden to the common man. It is getting more and more known that women have a longer life expectancy. The reason for that is, in general, that women are more resilient than men. Shorter people also life longer as their heart has to work less to pump blood throughout the body. Even in the COVID-19 pandemic, women showed higher immunity than men. Women are more flexible than men and we also store our fat more efficiently. The reason for this is that our bodies are built to keep an emergency reserve of energy. Now, one might start wondering why women have, in my opinion, all these more useful powers. And for that, my friend, we will go back to the prehistoric era. Majority of us have had the misconception that men used to hunt because they were tal...

I look back and I go to when I was eight I used to look up to my seniors and think they were great They were so hard working, had it all figured out But now I'm that age and I'm just filled with doubt When I was younger everything used to be black and white But now everything is jut hues of grey Everyone seems to think that my future is bright And I don't know what to say I finally understand how quickly time flies I feel so lost, don't know what to do in life Everyone else seems to have it all figured out And I am the only one who is left out But I realized now that it is not all bad In the end, everything is gonna be all right As long as I stay happy and keep working hard What everyone else thinks will lose its might And I will only live for myself Be content with what I have After all, when everyone else has left I will be all that I have

 'mono.' is an album made by RM or Kim Namjoon in 2018. He has been mentioned in my blog before, as the author of one of my favourite speeches and a commendable leader of the group who are one of my favourite musicians. He is also my mom's favourite in BTS for some reason? She just gets good vibes from him I guess, which is true for me too. He has an IQ of 148, is fluent in three languages, has shown considerable growth in his personal life, is thougthful and poetic and was in the top 0.1% in the Suneung exam, which is South Korea's College Entrance Examination. He is also called "God of Destruction" by his fans because of his well-known clumsiness. He was active in the underground hip hop scene before being chosen as the first member of BTS. He started writing at lyrics at the age of 11, and has hid first concert at the age of 14.  Enough about the musician, more about the album. The general feel of this album is like a friend sitting beside you, whose should...

Northern India. Early 1940's. A young girl enters a Government school of a small town in Eastern U.P,Ghazipur. She, along with her sisters, is one of the only girls to do so in the surrounding area. This is because in a path-breaking act, a teacher of that school chose to enroll his daughters into it, since, on paper, there was no rule saying it was just for boys. Other parents follow suit. A few years later, he also chooses to send his daughters out of station for further education. The first woman in the family to graduate from an educational institution in Lucknow, was my grandmother. This is the story of Shree Girija Dayal Singh.  The aforementioned act, to be of such futuristic thinking, was quite rare among people of those times. His feminism, however, wasn't limited to his daughters. In a time where women were told to stay behind closed doors and a piece of cloth (purdah), he used get his wife dressed up in shoes and take her outside on morning walks. Because of how fair...

 Whenever I study a subject that a teacher passionate about teaching taught me, I feel an innate desire to learn that subject. Whenever I listen to songs written, composed, and produced by J-hope, arguably the best dancer in BTS, I suddenly want to dance. The same with and rapping and singing at times for other members too. Programming with my father is a hundred times more fun than normal. Watching an artist draw makes me want open my sketchbook too. Watching a study with me video by a dedicated medical student makes me want to be a topper. Doing balshakti work with my mother makes me want to do that when I grow up too. As you may know by my last post, I do not have set passion, and I have often felt sad about it. But I am certainly a sponge for other peoples'. And I find that beautiful.

The feeling of passion isn't as crystal clear as happiness or sadness. Some people say that it's when your heart starts racing and you get excited for doing something. Some say it's the desire to achieve excellence and be diligent. Most people, according to society, have a passion. For them it usually turns into their job or hobby. For my dad it's programming and reading. For my mom it is Balshakti work and gardening. I, on the other hand have always felt..passionless. I may spend hours doing something and definitely like doing it, and even have the desire to be excellent in it, but it never felt like it was my passion. I always felt a tinge of melancholy because of this. I even had a privilege of having parents who did not impose their unfulfilled dreams on me, because they had none. As a result, I didn't even have any passions imposed on me. Some may say that I'm too young. Maybe they're right.  A couple years ago I started getting worried about this. I do...

 "What do you think the best day of your life is?" " I don't know, it probably hasn't happened yet, and it's going to be pretty exciting."                                                                                                       - A child on the streets of New York when asked by a reporter, paraphrased by my memory, and laziness to check the actual quote. I'm pretty sure a few of those days just happened a few days ago. 23rd and 24th December. Much to my surprise, there was ...

Every year, every month, every week, every day, every second, we make decisions. How big of an impact those decisions make are out of our control, and that is both beautiful and terrifying. It is not a rare occurrence to think how intertwined this world's lives are. You would have had a complete different social circle for your formative years had your parents not chosen that school. Maybe you wouldn't have even made a friend unless you forgot a pencil that day and had to borrow one. Maybe you wouldn't have discovered your favourite artist if the Youtube Algorithm had not chosen them for you. Maybe you still have that habit you picked up from your childhood best friend a decade ago. I wouldn't have discovered Doctor Who if I didn't decide to channel surf that one particular day. What I'm trying to say with all this rambling is, I find it fascinating and amazing how life is such a complicated mess. We are all a mosaic of everyone else's lives. Some people cal...

 Everyone has a thing which constituted the majority of their childhood. As an only child born in the mid 2000's who had access to the internet, that thing for me was flash games. Any game you see a kid playing on the internet was probably a flash game. Flipline Studios, GirlsGoGames, RoundGames, Kongregate and Agame.com were my most frequented websites on the internet. Before you classify me as a couch potato hikkokomori kind of person,  I would like you to remind you that with these games us children bonded, laughed, named characters, and even made game jingles together. The internet was our hangout spot. Why Goodbye, you may ask? Well, this December, Adobe Flash, the software that most of these games ran on, will be discontinued. It was the first thing that happened in this world that told me my childhood had ended. It was emotional, and gut-wrenching, but life goes on. There are some things you can download in which you can play most of these games, but still, it was an e...

Couldn't post last week, hence two posts. BTS, in their song Idol , have explored the idea of one person's being being constituted by many people. That is, one person having many different aspects to them, having three dimensional personalities, rather than just being the person we know them as. A human being consists of many people, all masquerading as one person. This was particularly note-worthy to me since I always used to make, or divide, different versions of me to make different characters in playing pretend when I was younger. So, here are some of them. Cute Saumya Naive and innocent, this version of me seems to be the most common perception of me. She has no ulterior motives, and is always curious like a child.   Intellectual Saumya Oh Jeez I need this person to come back in my life more often now. Diligent and hardworking, she is always very keen on trying her best. She is what gets me my grades. Edgy Saumya This version of me was born when I joined my school van. Su...

 With Christmas nearing, the thought of gifts from your parents, or, quite literally everything you own before you get a job, came to my mind. 2015, I am in Spencer's market. (It is a hypermarket near Bhootnath.)  "Mummy, how much can I buy something for me for?" "Oh IDK, like a 100 or something." Lo and behold, began the search of a 9-year-old girl for something in the stationary section for something under ₹100. I ended up buying a purple gluestick. That amount, a hundred rupees, stuck with me. Even though it has been five years since then, I still feel guilty asking for something which costs more than a hundred rupees. Not that my parents ever enforced that, this feeling just sort of, spontaneously internalized in me. The same year, my mother introduced the idea of giving me something, however small, every month, preferably the 19th, since my birthday is on 19th July. Sort of like a monthly birthday. As a result of my parents' persistence, I have always g...