´╗┐Better than OK

I have a list of things to do. The idea is to complete one task every week. 

Normally it takes me more than a week, and sometimes tasks over lap. But it’s ok. It gives me perspective and at least I make progress in the span of weeks to months, rather than months to never.

The past few weeks have been my “put a song on soundcloud” and “put a video on YouTube ” weeks. But then I felt like writing a short story, and I thought I’d skip to “write a blog/short story”.

I started a short story but writer’s block hit me.

It hit me hard and gave me a nose bleed. My head’s been consistently hurting too. Or maybe that’s just my wisdom teeth growing out.

“Oh you’re finally getting wiser”, yeah…..no… It’s not  I’ve never heard that before. I’m Desi. It’s Desi protocol to say these kind of things, but they always forget that a million people would have already said that before them. I guess they hope to be the first.

Other things I expect to hear and have heard from a Desi because I am… me:

“Anushka? Like Anushka Sharma?” (My name is Anushka Abraham, hi.) She’s a relatively new Indian actress and at one point, we both had short hair. I still haven’t grown my hair. Ha! Beat you to it Ms. Sharma!

“Are you a boy or a girl?” Apparently I’m way too flat-chested and for them to see the difference and apparently my sex really matters.

“Why short hair?”

“Are you Sri Lankan? Where you from?” – that’s a complimentary question  because when my hair was longer , it was impossible to be racially ambiguous , but now, now I have slightly better chance. I was even asked if I was Ethiopian! So cool! (No, I do enjoy my culture, I just am a wannabe superhero)

Off topic.

Right, so list of things to do, writer’s block, da da dum…dee dee doo…. The pain began to subside and I sat down.

I forget to breathe through my nose, so I did. I forget to just sit and not do anything, so I did. That didn’t last long, but that’s ok. 

I began to think about the people in my life. And now I’m here. Clearly I settled on the “Write a blog” part.

It has been 10 years since I moved to the UAE and earned the company of some beautiful people. Through my last year of school and university I was graced by the presence of some crazy, quirky, intelligent and simply good people.

10. That’s almost one-third of my life. It’s a big number to me….. (God, this is where the ultimate shitiness of my writing surfaces)

I know some of you have the privilege of speaking to the person you have known since you had tiny toes and big heads, almost everyday. My chuddy buddy (childhood bestie) is in my heart, no doubt.  But our lives flow in parallel streams, and that’s ok. Once in a while there’ll be a crack in the ground and we will get to hi5 each other.

10 years. These wonderful people have been my constants. We (mostly they) have traveled, studied, worked abroad, but we’ve always somehow comeback and found some middle ground. 

It’s comforting. I don’t take it for granted. I won’t check up on them day to day and they won’t know what I ate and how my day was. But it’s ok.  I know them and they know me. We may reunite after weeks or months but we pick up where left off, as if we never left. 

They are , family.

What would this place be with out the familiarity that they bring into my life? How would I look back at my time here when I leave? 

It just wouldn’t be the same.

It couldn’t have been better.

It’s better than OK. This thought is just like that feeling I get when it’s that time of the day, when the sun isn’t too high, nor too low, but it’s dimmed just enough for me to look right at it without squinting. 

Bright, warm, brilliant and welcoming.

Milky Chance – Down by The River


in the long run

for the first time…what a friend of mine said makes sense…he’d often repeat the words “hate the game not the player”…. i’d shoo his words off because it sounded more like a senseless dialogue when he said it…moreover, it was his way of justifying himself in front of me when he did wrong…he hoped the saying would keep him safe in my eyes…it didn’t…

anyway…what i’ve learned is the phrase makes a lot of sense…we’re all capable of extreme good, and extreme evil and everything in between…no one is entirely bad or entirely good…and our judgement of this comes from their actions and intentions…and intentions basically come to life in actions…so it’s their deeds (the game) that make us judge them….but it is naive to assume that one or two things we see a person do can define who they are completely… there may be many aspects to them we haven’t seen…so it seems to hate or dislike something they do, but not the individual entirely…

hate the deed, not the doer… is another way to put it…

and that’s what i need to hang onto now…that’s what i need to trust in now…i am fine with him, her and them….fine…just fine….because i saw so much goodness in them, inspite of seeing worse in their eyes….

so i can be fine with them…respect them as individuals…but i will never be okay, and i do not have to be okay with what they did…and i do not need to forgive what they did, even though i can forgive them, and i don’t need to forget it…and i don’t need to forgive myself either…if i believe i was wrong…i was wrong…and i will be better than that…

it stings to think that it’s been more than 10 years since my life took the most drastic turn, to be ugly-fied of beautified, scarred, tattooed….

and i still remember her voice, her words, her demeanor around 10 to 15 years back, shooing off the cruel truth of the matter…and not much later ridiculing the fact that i was deeply, with out exaggeration, hurt….

and i agreed with her when she said those words, and even before and after……questioned my mind and body’s reaction to it……for years and years, through so many changes and ages…i justified everything and everyone, except myself…

i begged memories to let me be and let me live.,..

if i could forgive them then i could forget as well…right?..but i couldn’t and i still can’t…i learned so much…so how could i wear my knowledge with out scars from the journey?

after all the reasoning, and the restrictions i put upon myself…i’ve come to accept that i don’t need to forget…nor do i need to please anyone…not even her….what was wrong was wrong…in the context, the time, the place, the everything.,…and it still would be wrong….

i was hurt, and there are a million reasons why i would feel the sting as freshly as i did when it happened…if not more, at times….it makes senses to feel abandoned, lack of trust, and most of all indifference…

all her accusations of my detachment, self centered ness and inability to let go, are just as justifiable as her lack of action and poor judgement…and perhaps even more justifiable than the doings of everyone involved…

i will remember it, and relive it…and i will hurt…but i wont be paralyzed…not by fear at least…i should not…i need to grow and revel in all that i can be..i will learn to have a more open heart and stare my darkness in the eye..

in the long run, these are the branches in your life that you come to settle upon, and even after you let the birds find home in your tree, leaves, and flowers and fruits will continue to bloom..


diamonds from a dime-store, thoughts that need to be thought about more..

i love books that make me think… most books make me think….but there are some that make me think more than others….they feed me with more thoughts of the author….normally, i just am impressed by the author’s thoughts… it is only much later that i think about what that thought means to me, or if i agree or not….

my instinct used to be to just disagree…..now i fill the space of available for my reaction with silence….it’s better to think about what you think than just go with typical reactions, i think.. =)


anyway, so i’m only half way through “shantaram” (the book) and i’m a slow reader, but i am enjoying every bit of the book…

today, i came across this…

a thought, that i dont know what to think about…but i am intrigued by it..

“what characterises the human race more, Karla once asked me, cruelty or the capacity to feel shame for it? i thought the question acutely clever then, when i first heard it, but i’m lonelier and wiser now, and i know it isn’t cruelty or shame that characterises the human race. it’s forgiveness that makes us what we are. without forgiveness our species would have annihilated itself in endless retributions. with out forgiveness, there would be no history. without that hope, there would be no art, for every work of art is in some way an act of forgiveness. with out that dream, there would be no love, for every act of love is in some way a promise to forgive. we live on because we can love and we love because we can forgive.”

a totally unrelated song….but a great ‘first thing to hear in the morning’ =D