When I die and you get the chance to rummage through all that I hoard, you’ll find all kinds of weird ass shit but most of all my precious notebooks. When SSR passed away and they found his diaries, with all kinds of lists and random information, I realized they are quite telling of a person’s inner space and someday, when mine are found, maybe someone will be able to piece together, all of me. Find a way, to send me the Vishesh Tipani!

The past year has been really tough for everyone and has been the loneliest in all my years on this planet. Don’t mistake my cribbing for being ungrateful. God as always has remained in my corner, kept me safe, from disease and from myself! But with the solitude that one is quite comfortable with, there’s been a mix of certain other emotions like hopelessness, cynicism, topped with slight disgust. Let’s blame my misanthropy for it or just my natural instinct when I feel cornered by the herd, that is society at large. One reacts like one did as a child- First step, go into my shell. Second step, remain there till I feel stronger. Third, peep out, figure out no one is there…get on with my life and then if anyone comes near or instigates, turn into a raging bull. Does it work? Less and less, with age. Recently, I realized, that certain things will have to change, as I grow older. One will have to start, standing up for oneself at some point and I have begun that process, too late. With an aggressive personality, like mine you would assume I do it all the time. In my personal relationships, when one is hurt by the rumours that surround one, one tends to just disconnect, disappear and become Mr India (a nickname given to me by my friend). Ideally, speaking, one would love to not care but na, unfortunately one does.

But you got to catch the bull by the horn, at times, this ‘let it be…karma will it sort out’ stuff that I tell myself, might have resulted in people bearing the consequences of their actions but the rumour mills churn at full speed which may seem harmless or entertaining to the people who have the time to indulge in these activities but it can professionally, personally, mentally and emotionally harm others. So, I’ve decided to not to let it be, if you’re going to talk crap about me, I will definitely let you know that I know. No one gets to demean me and then pretend everything’s great. I don’t take anything lying down anymore ( figuratively and literally- sorry I couldn’t help that). This is my new thing, it makes people squirm but so be it!

The other thing, is owning the story. We all got to own up to our crap and the story of our lives. The haters will continue to hate, the gossip mongers will continue to weave stories…record and pass on messages. The one’s who have been infected by the green eyed monster, will continue to detest you for your privileges. The critics will continue claiming that you are brainless, talentless and penniless fool. But inspite of all that, there will still be people out there, who will hold your hand through it. Even if you are all of those things and more, so what? What should you do, stop living, stop doing or stop being?

One had an incredible experience today. Someone shared something on a group about judging people and i’ve been feeling very low, the past few weeks. One wrote back, some personal stuff, I share on this blog all the time but highly inappropriate for a WhatsApp group. I think what I wrote was just a culmination of things- hopelessness and defiance, almost a throwing caution to the wind, like a kiss goodbye. It came from a place of feeling cornered and not from a place of wanting to share, anything in particular. One expected silence, a brushing under the carpet but slowly I started getting the kindest messages on the group and otherwise, too. An outpouring of positivity and love that someone such as myself doesn’t even expect on her demise. Sometimes, the greatest acts of kindness are just words of appreciation. The hoarder in me, is tempted to turn the messages into a tiny scrapbook, that one can look at when one feels, a little too lost or disillusioned. A reminder of sorts, that not everyone is the same, so stop painting everyone with the same brush.