An ode to Thought Catalog

I am addicted to Thought Catalog. It gives me a feeling of solidarity with the world. It reassures me that I am not crazy, and not alone - both of which I have begun to feel very frequently of late. If I ever thought that my teenage years were full of confusion and uncertainties, that is nothing - NOTHING compared to my twenties. It's much the same anyway, and I don't know if this is just me but I'm struggling with pretty much the same kind of things - not knowing where my life is going, liking people who don't like me back, being utterly confused by peoples' reactions. The only difference, is that along with the same uncertainties there is an extra sense of guilt.

I feel like by this time I should be smarter, and more sorted, I should have different problems than I did when I was 15, nearly a decade ago. There is a n underlying feeling of scorn and shame that I don't have it all figured out by now. Everywhere I look, I see people who are well on their way to successful careers, my friends have gotten a couple of promotions already; some are married, and an increasingly large number of them get engaged every day; some have moved to different cities, or countries; and all of them excitedly share their perfect lives with the world. And I am single, still living at home, and not 6 months old at my first job. Not even sure that I really am done studying, second-guessing my decision to quit my research degree. 

And this is why I am in awe of the people who write for Thought Catalog. They don't have it figured out either, and they aren't afraid to say it. They tell the stories of their mistakes and their messes with a warm, funny, self-deprecating humour that endears them to me, and I'm sure to their other readers too. Like me, they're braving their way through these twenties, hoping that at the other end, there is clarity and stability. They talk about what they learnt and what they didn't; what they did right and what they didn't; the people they hurt and the people who hurt them. 

Much has been said about the one-dimensionalness of TC articles - that they have the same repetitive stilted way of writing, are targeted at bored, jaded, neo-bohemian and narcissistic twenty-somethings, and have the mandatory pop culture references. These assertions might well be true, but if something makes you feel better about the world, why knock it? So many times I've been  been astounded when I read an essay that sounds like something I might have written, if I got that tone down pat. It's stopped me from feeling stunted and alienated, and reaffirmed my faith in things. That isn't a small feat.

I'd love to make someone a fellow twenty-something feel better about the world. It would be very noble.

Why I dislike Airtel IPTV's Time Shift function

When we first got IPTV at home after years and years of cable, I was intensely happy. No more endless waiting for Roadies/Splitsvilla repeats (yes I was a Roadies AND Splitsvilla junkie, and I'm only a tiny bit ashamed to admit it), no more rushing home in time for a prime time movie, no more waking up at 4am to watch the Oscars (which I have never till date seen, despite thinking every year that I totally will), and best of all, no more scheduling lunch, dinner, study breaks etc. around TV programming. 

Academically, all that still holds, and I no longer do any of those things. But, my TV watching has dropped drastically. And one of the major reasons for that is the Time Shift. I don't follow any show regularly, so it's not like I have something specific to watch, and the Time Shift is really really bad when you just want to chill and watch something vaguely interesting. The sheer pressure of having every single thing that has aired over the past one week available to watch is too much. I spend so much time poring over the week's programming for every channel, in fear that I'm watching this slightly interesting show, when on another channel there might be a far more enticing one. I worry that I'm wasting my time watching a movie that I'll only somewhat like, when I could be watching one that I missed in the theater and had been waiting for. 

I have to see EVERYTHING that's available before I decide what I want to watch, and usually by the time I've gone through everything, an hour has gone by and nothing has seemed more than 80% convincing. Even worse, if I actually am able to decisively choose one show/movie, the overwhelming chances are that I've forgotten which channel and what time it was supposed to be playing, and I'll have to go through everything from the start, trying to find it.  

Time Shift is a boon if you know what you want to watch - I regularly blessed its existence during the Masterchef Australia days. But either most content on TV these days sucks, or I've become far too spoilt by having Torrents. 

Whatever the reason is, TV isn't fun anymore. I miss watching ads too. And movie trailers. But they're repeated sooo often that fast-forwarding them isn't really optional. How many times in one commercial break can you watch a mediocre or downright stupid ads? Sadly, in the skipping, I miss out on the good ones too. 

I tell myself that if it's really good, it'll get shared on Facebook/Twitter. 

I want to read

I want to read. And not an article or movie or TV episode review. Not a Tweet or Facebook or BBM status update, no matter how amusing. Not a blog. Not an email, or five hundred of them. And for heaven’s sake, not a report or presentation or minutes. I want to read a book. Not an e-book. Not a book to proofread. A real honest-to-god, page-turn-able, bookmark-requiring book. 

I spend about seven-eighth of my average workday reading stuff. No exaggerations at all. Not all of it is necessarily work. Sometimes I get distracted and read non-relevant articles or something that's been shared on Facebook/Twitter. And the remaining one-eighth I write. But then I have to read what I write too, more than once, so it just adds to the total time. 

And yet, it feels like I haven't read anything in really, really long.

It isn't that the stuff I read is boring. Far from it. I often come across really insightful pieces, my Twitter timeline is full of Tweets that are very witty and often crack me up, and sometimes I read something that is so well-written that it evokes envy - why couldn't I have written that?

But I am sick of reading on a screen. I've had an almost constant headache for about two years now, some days it's less, some days it's excruciating, some days it's dormant, but I don't think it's ever going to go away. 

I want to read on paper. I want to hold the book in my hands, turn the pages, spend hours without being called away, not look at my phone, not talk to anyone; just be completely immersed in the universe of the book. Be lost in the story, visualise as I read, not notice if someone tries to attract my attention. For a few hours nothing else exists but me and the book, me and the characters, me and the story. 

Or not even me; just them.

Much later, re-emerge into the real world, adjust my bearings, get used to outside. 

Repeat.

I miss the feeling terribly. 

PPTs

If I wanted a job that involved making PowerPoint presentations I would have taken one of those that I was being offered three years ago when I graduated, which were paying me more than what I earn right now - three full years and a post-graduate degree later. 

AND I'd be making a minimum of THREE TIMES THAT AMOUNT TODAY, if I'd stuck it out at the big fancy corporate. 

Also, I hate Trebuchet MS.

That is all.

Shit people say

The funniest thing about the 'Shit Delhi People Say' and 'Shit Bombay People Say' videos are the comments on them where people go - That is so not how a Delhi guy talks, the guy in the video is obviously from Bombay or This girl is so shrill, she can't be a Bombay girl, she must be from Delhi.

I have two questions:

A. Why are people from Delhi/Bombay making videos about each other? Why wouldn't you want to stick with what you know and make videos about yourselves?

B. What's with all the hatred? I don't understand it. As a Delhi girl, I have done my duty and hated on Bombay as much as everyone else, but only because it offends me when people randomly badmouth Delhi - my pride is injured, I'm obviously going to fight back. But I have never understood it.

I think the videos are hilarious though. I wish we could all find it easier to laugh at ourselves.

Words really are mighty

Last night, somewhere in the early a.m., during a phone conversation, I said something that I thought was very profound. It wasn't received very well - I was asked to shut up and not dispense gyaan at such an ungodly hour, and I immediately thought fine, I am so going to write about this - of course I promptly passed out within minutes of that thought, so it didn't happen.

But still, this is me attempting to explain why I think words are so powerful, and why it surprises me so much that people don't seem to think so.

I am usually very careful about what I say, notable possible exceptions being when I am either very drunk or very nervous, or when I am caught completely off-guard by something. I measure my words carefully, and agonise over using just the right expression to put something across. I am always conscious about how what I say will be perceived by people. Sometimes this manifests itself in ways as ridiculous as me taking twenty minutes to craft an email that essentially has to say something as simple as, we will evaluate the same and get back to you.

And I don't think this is such a terrible thing. Because watching what you say can potentially save you from a lot of trouble. I wonder if I am the only person who does this? Do people usually just say the first thing that comes into their head? I know that there are times when people have thought that I do just say the first thing that comes into my head. But I know that if that's the impression that people got of me, then it's exactly what I intended to convey.

Lately I've begun to wonder often, whether in so many years of being careful of portraying myself in a certain way, I've forgotten who I am when no-one is around.

Being yelled at

And so, just on the verge of completing two months at work, I get my first real yelling. On a Saturday night. While on a conference call. 

I feel sick, and the thought of going in to office today fills me with dread. I'm hurt, disappointed, unappreciated, not just a little angry, and very indignant. 

My mom thinks I should have a chat with my boss. Tell him that I felt he over-reacted to the issue, and that I understood why he was upset with me, and that I would ensure I wouldn't let it happen again, he needn't have been as venomous as he was. Unfortunately, I have never been good at confrontations. In all my years, I have never been able to present my point of view calmly and rationally to someone who isn't predisposed to listen. Any attempt to clarify my stand in such a situation, usually ends with me in tears.

And I don't think bursting into tears while talking to my boss is a very good idea.