Story #37: Past, Present, Future? (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

Past, present, future; the three things that define our lives.
Do they really?

People often ask me about me past experience. What all did I do in school? Was I a good student? What all hobbies I had?

If not my past, they are way too interested in my future. What do you plan to do after two years? What do you want to become? What’s your ultimate goal in life?

Each time, I feel, hang on, please. Let’s discuss our present lives. Let’s talk about where we are right now, at this moment. 

Our generation has just forgotten the meaning of living in the present. Either we are too sad about the past, or too scared about the future. 

This has led us to not value things in our lives, more importantly, the people in our lives. Nothing is permanent; that’s the biggest truth of life. 

The people you love, live with them in the present. Do not think about the past or what’s going to happen in the future.

You must be thinking, it’s not easy to have such a perspective about life. But trust me, it’s the best way. 

I had my experience which taught me this. I don’t want to talk about it much, because it’s gone, it’s in the past. 

I was about ten; very young to understand emotions and people, obviously. I had a brother; lost him when he was not even three months old. The most precious one in my life. At that point, I didn’t even realise what had happened. 

My family made me strong. So now, I realise that indeed, nothing is permanent. You never know what’s going to happen. 

So just love the people you really want to. Enjoy the moments now. Because really, life is just about the present; no past, no future. 


I’ve always seen the present as this, nothingness. The present, to me, is just a fleeting moment; always moving away from us just when we’re reaching to grab it.

But the fact that nothing is permanent forces one into action. Knowing that all we have is right now, even if it’s just a fleeting moment, makes you seize the moment. 

Appreciate what you have right now, because things will not be the same forever. 

-:-

Any opinions, comments or ideas that you may want to put forward to the writer of this story can be mailed to me at ratti.priya5@gmail.com. Positive feedback and constructive criticism are more than welcome. 

(The Anonymous Anecdotes is a project under which anyone can send me a memory, a story or an experience from their life that had a profound impact on them. It requires people to write their respective experience along with the way it changed them or their perception of life. According to the project, these stories are being published anonymously, with the intent of spreading a positive message and a hope that anyone who reads, relates or learns.)

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Story #22: What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

I was in class 9 and preparing for my finals when I lost the person I was most attached to: my Dadu (paternal grandfather). This was an experience that had the most profound impact on me.

I had never experienced the sorrow of losing someone ever. I was devastated. I still get goosebumps writing about it. At first, I was heartbroken, but then I wanted to accomplish all the good things my dadu wanted me to accomplish.

I used to be quite a healthy child and he constantly asked me to lose weight, even though I didn’t really pay attention towards it. But when he left, I got a jerk and went on from being 84 to 60. I did it for him and wished so much that he was there to see it.

I studied with all my will, scored well and kept on motivating myself as if he was there to see me. I wish I could tell him how much I miss him; I just keep on working hard for him.
This experience took away a part of me, but then made me a stronger person in life!


For the most of us, losing someone we love is an experience that brings inevitable pain. More so, when that someone is family.

But sometimes, the things that give us pain somehow end up becoming the sources of our strengths. Pain changes us in different ways: it weakens some to terrible inaction, while it pushes others to take the chances they otherwise couldn’t. 

Use your pain to be a better person. Exploit it, make it your strength. Look back at the point in your life when you were inches far from giving up, at the lowest of you lows; realise that if you could get through that, then you can get through anything.

Befriend your demons, they fuel your strengths.

-:-

(The Anonymous Anecdotes is a project under which anyone can send me a memory, a story or an experience from their life that had a profound impact on them. It requires people to write their respective experience along with the way it changed them or their perception of life. According to the project, these stories are being published anonymously, with the intent of spreading a positive message and a hope that anyone who reads, relates or learns. If you’re interested, you can send me your story at ratti.priya5@gmail.com.)

Story #2: Loss & Remorse (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

The Anonymous Anecdotes is a project under which anyone can send me a memory, a story or an experience from their life that had a profound impact on them. It requires people to write their respective experience along with the way it changed them or their perception of life. According to the project, these stories are being published anonymously, with the intent of spreading a positive message and a hope that anyone who reads, relates or learns.
Here’s story number two.


November 25, 2015.

He recovered a little from his alcoholism. The last two days were tough to handle but I was used to that as I had seen him like this since I was fourteen. I was really stressed out, angry and was feeling helpless as I wasn’t able to study for the exam which was on the next day. I could see the pain in my mother’s eyes as she helped him lie down. She really loved him a lot but was done with carrying the burden of running the whole house alone. He did not go to work nor out of the house. He sat idle at home and drank all day. He was reluctant to form any social communications and was separating himself from mumma and I. He used to sit alone all the time and cry often. I shouted at him, I fought with him every day and after a point I began to hate him; and that broke him even more. I even tried to help him out but every attempt failed. I thought he was going to be like he was no matter what. 

It was 8:30 in the evening when mumma asked me to get some medicines for him. He took them and I helped him drink some water. I was really angry at that time because a day before he’d puked blood all over the room. His liver was damaged but this wasn’t the first time that he was suffering like this. I felt really bad for him. I wanted him to be healthy and live a normal life with us again.

After some time he began suffocating and was not able to breathe properly. I helped him stand up and asked him what was going on. But he didn’t respond. He was just trying his best to breathe. Again, I shouted at him and said that I was done with him. I said that if he was going to stay like that, then it would be better that he’d die. I did not mean that. I just said that because I wasn’t able to handle his situation anymore. I could not see him in pain anymore. The moment I said those words he stopped breathing.

We took him to the hospital but it was too late. He was 20 minutes late and his blood pressure was -20. He died in my arms. It was a silent stroke that silenced him forever. Mumma was shattered and I was not able to move or cry. What had I done?!

He was in the ambulance when the doctors were taking him for the postmortem. I hugged him for the last time and cried. I wished that I’d done this earlier; I wished I’d have hugged him and told him to come back and start a new life. But it was too late and he was gone.

It’s been two years now and everything has become normal. Mumma is fine and is living her shattered life and here I am, living with this guilt. I shouldn’t have said that. I know he is present somewhere around me, and all I want to say is that I miss you papa, and I am sorry for everything.


I don’t think there is much to be said for this. It takes a lot of courage to go through something like this, and talk about it. We often tend to overlook to transience of life as we find ourselves tangled in the circumstances that surround us. I find myself tangled in small things. But once in a while, I come across stories like this one and they make me realize how important it is to take a step back and see the bigger picture. To love the people we love. To think how fast the moments and people I cherish might be taken away from me. To learn to love all the things I don’t want to let go of. 

-:-

Journey

Before you, to me,
Death was a state of peace, finally achieved after a turmoil full of existence-
After you,
Death is horror to me,
Death is numbness, not peace;
What pushed you, to take the plunge?
Was it yourself, your poor, beaten and battered self that gave your body away to a railway track?
Or was it your anxiety, your depression culminating into one powerful fist that punched you down beyond the yellow line?
Was it painful, getting crushed by wheels, or being reduced into a speed breaker?
Or did you feel nothing at all, except for the shrilling silence persisting in your ears,
Or the heartbeat that throbbed across your body one last time, and then stopped, once and for all?
Because I still wonder if you would find your solace within the soil in one piece-
Perhaps the weight of your problems was greater than the weight of the wagon that reduced you into crumbs of meat;
Pieces of skin, dripping with blood and sadness, lost for options but death.
Tell me, why did you not fight for your breath?
Imagine how word will fall into your parents’ unfortunate ears-
twenty-five,
unidentified,
and dead;
Will they come apart all at once, or will they fall, piece by piece, just like you?
Just,
like,
you:
Lost for words, for questions and answers,
bereft of want, passion, or the desire to mend,
Embarking on a tragic journey
that was never meant to end.