Story #38: Beyond The Imperfections (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

I’ve had a privileged childhood. I’m sure it was better than what majority of children in a country like India get. I got everything I needed, had parents who loved me, who cared about me, and what not. And trust me, I’m very grateful for all that I’ve got. 
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But like everything else, nothing is perfect. And for me, it was my parents. My father although a good man at heart, very honest and has high morals, intelligent and knowledgeable but is also very aggressive and irrational at times; maybe it is because of the alcohol. He is not an alcoholic, I don’t think so, but does consume some alcohol on regular basis. My mother is a relatively simple person intellectually. She is not as intelligent and knowledgeable as my father, and this is one of the main reasons they don’t get along very well.
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When I remember this part of my childhood, I remember fights almost everyday. My father screaming; sometimes beating, mother crying, me and my sibling wondering what we should do and in general distress. My mother may make mistakes often, but nothing deserves such treatment from one’s life partner. A lot of times we were the victims to my father’s aggression too. Me and my sibling were slapped as children, shouted at, and what not. Somehow we grew up fine despite all of this happening. 
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There is this one specific incident that changed me and my family. Don’t get your hopes high as this does not have any happy ending, at least not at the time I write this. A lot of such “fights” happened late in evening, after my dad returned from office, and probably drank alcohol. I put fights in quotes because it wasn’t two-way, it was mostly my dad screaming and hurling horrible abuses at my mother in the loudest tone possible. I’m sure all the neighbors heard them. I would not go in too many details about this, because that’s not the point. 
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There were talks about being divorced. I must have been 14-15 years old then, and my sibling 12-13 years old. We were even asked pretty directly who we would want to stay with when our parents split. I don’t think a lot of kids are asked to make that hard a decision that young. It was devastating but somehow we got past it. 
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There was this night. I don’t know exactly what happened, but this was normal by our standards. Dad said something, mom said something. I am not sure. Me and my sibling were upstairs, and didn’t know what happened. Next thing we know, mom comes upstairs crying, and says, “I’ve called the police.” 
Our worst nightmare came true.. Police got involved in all of this, and I guess from this point of time, I could no longer not accept that this was the sad reality. Earlier if any relative asked about this, I said it was okay. Pretty normal. A few arguments here and there and that’s it. But I could no longer deny everything was wrong anymore. 
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I don’t think I should go into too much details about what happened then when the police arrived as I don’t think there is any point. In short, we played pretty chill. Since nothing significant happened that day, and no screams or abuses or violence was involved, there wasn’t much for the police to do. They thought that it was a case of wife getting upset at husband saying something, and the policemen started cracking jokes to make my mom happy. I guess the call was just the outburst of everything mother had to go through. Maybe someone advised her to do it the next time it happens. I don’t know. Policemen asked mom if she wanted my father to spend the night in jail, and thankfully she said no. Police left. Time to sleep for everyone. No conversation.
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I remember sitting on the bed, looking at the whole scene then, when everyone was talking of divorce, police being involved now. I mean, this was major for all of us. Earlier there were talks of divorce, mostly in a semi-casual manner, but after this, everyone was pretty sure something concrete would happen. Father could not believe this had happened to him, and I believe he was pretty sure he could not take this marriage anymore. Mother obviously could not take this, since she had called the police. I was wondering how my sibling felt, very young at that time. I felt bad for my younger sibling to have to go through all of this at such age. In that one second, I saw my whole family completely destroyed. I knew everything would change henceforth; how I would have to choose who to live with, no more usual family things. I felt a large building full of responsibility falling upon my tiny shoulders. I had to do something now in my life, for my sibling and parents. That one moment, It felt like everything froze, and I turned a man from a child. This was the moment that changed me, forever. 
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PS : No divorce took place, usual family again. Me and my sibling turned out fine, without any psychological trauma whatsoever. Of course everything still isn’t okay. There are still many such instances of shouting and cursing, in fact one right now as I write this. But I guess all of us are pretty used to it now. “Being happy isn’t about everything being perfect. It’s about seeing beyond the imperfections” Right? 
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Please don’t feel bad for me. It’s all okay. Things happen. I live an amazing life. I’m very grateful for it. No complaints. I have many amazing people who love me, and likewise.
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Love you all.
Thank you for taking the time out to read this.
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After reading some anecdotes, I felt like speaking to the writers of the anecdotes but unfortunately can’t. But incase anyone wishes to talk to me, my email is abd14789632f@gmail.com.
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It is tough to even talk about something so difficult that one’s family is going through, let alone writing it down. But this person did not only come to terms with the facts to talk about them, but also to write them down in a way that has surely resonated with me. 

I love the fact that despite the fights, despite the parents being so vulnerable, this person wrapped this story up with the words that they have an amazing life and no complains.
I, too, like the writer, believe that nothing is perfect. We all have, in our lives that one thing that constantly holds us down; it maybe a disease, a mental problem, or like in this case, family. But you know everything is going to be okay once you realise that you need to come to terms with your circumstance and accept things as they are. Only then, will you be able to make an effort to change the things that bother you. 
-:-

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 #34: Where To Find Good People (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

Hey. I am not a priest, not a soul guide, not a spiritual guru, nor do I have any special power. I am just another human with a standard issue brain and heart. Although I am not so sure why they blame it on the innocent little organ which essentially only pumps blood in our body. But it’s okay, I guess it must be used to it by now. Hopefully. But remember, it’s an opinion. So, don’t buy it like you buy stuff from a super market, think about it and if you find any loopholes, be sure to contact the lovely author of this initiative who will further re-direct your opinion to me. Trust me, I’ll need it. 

Goodness is something which makes sense, because honestly we see enough bad to adequately differentiate it from the good. There is no degree of goodness, there is just goodness. It is not a methodical process which requires learning, maturity or even education. It is something which is inherent in us, engineered in our brain somehow. But unfortunately, a number of people are swayed away from it at a very early stage. It may be the upbringing, the nightmarish childhood or a traumatic incident. Whatever it is, it steals their ability to act good to others, it is as sad as it sounds. I am not trying to justify the wrongdoers of the world, just saying that they have become this way, reversibly or irreversibly. 

We often use our standard human categorisation policies to put our acquaintances into one of the two boxes called – ‘good’ or ‘bad’. But trust me it is not that easy. Goodness or badness is hardly apparent, often camouflaged by moods, environment, notions and experiences. So it would be easier to let down the judgemental walls down that we build around ourselves and let some goodness flow into our lives. 
Now where the hell is this goodness? 
It’s right there. 

We all see it, when a waiter is extra polite to us. We feel it when a random stranger lets us board the metro before him. We feel it when a random woman is carrying 6 bags, still managing to hold her daughter’s hand while crossing the road. We see it when a cow licks off the dirt of another cow. We feel it when an infant smiles at us for no reason. We feel it when a middle-aged uncle returns your phone which you forgot at the restaurant. 
Sometimes the goodness is strong enough to come and knock your door directly. But other times you have to keep an open mind and look for it around you. Trust me, it’s there. Not necessarily in people, not necessarily in nature, not necessarily even on earth, but it’s there. Let’s try to feel it, let it pass the layers of pains and miseries. Into the soul it will go and it will give you a purpose, a purpose to live, to be someone else’s goodness. 

Thanks for reading through. Smile?


This story made me smile!

Well. So much negativity asserts itself in our surroundings, and makes its presence very obvious in our lives.  Our brains have become so accustomed to immediately thinking of a negative situation, that most of the times we become blind to even the possibility of something good happening. 

We need a certain amount of negativity in our lives to balance with the positivity. But imagine how the balance will fall, if we don’t see the good; if we don’t be the good. It will inevitably pave a way into pessimism. 

A lot of things change when we try to change our perspectives; when we try to look beyond the squares and shapes we’ve cut out for ourselves to use for viewing the world. If beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder, then certainly, happiness must also be found by someone who looks at the world with optimism. 

So, look for it; if you cannot find goodness around, find it within yourself. Foster it, then reflect it onto the universe, so that it finds its way back to you.

I’m sure it will.

-:-

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.)

Story #28: A Lone Boulevard (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

Over the two decades I’ve managed to survive on this planet, the most important thing that I’ve realised is that life in fact, is a lone boulevard. You can try and make people stay with you all you want, but that is not going to happen. 

No matter how much you do for them, no matter how much you care for them or love them and no matter how many times you tell them how much they mean to you, they will eventually leave. Because that is the way life works and there is nothing you can do about it. People come and go according to ever changing circumstances, you can’t blame anyone about it. 

“Forever” is the biggest lie, we all promise each other, when none of us know how long that exactly is. 

Sometimes, these things really get to you. It doesn’t matter if it was a friendship or a relationship, when it ends, your heart breaks a little. But you need to realise that you cannot bind someone to stay with you. 

At the end, it depends on you, how you take it. You can be upset about it, you can overthink and blame yourself, but that isn’t going to achieve anything. You’re only going to end up hurting yourself.

The best solution is to have no expectations and becoming more independent. Whatever you do for someone, do not do it to oblige them or expect something in return for it. Become the right kind of selfless, but not to the point where people take advantage of you.

We all need to be comfortable in our own skin and appreciate the beauty of solitude, find happiness in being in your own company. The only person who will stick with you through everything is YOU.

Remember the energy you give out in the universe, eventually does find a way back to you.

Your entire life is a book, and the people you meet are merely chapters. Eventually, every chapter has to get over, only then the story can move forward.


I have, by now come across more than one stories that touch upon the subject of finding comfort in your company. It makes me so happy because I believe in it too much, and finding people whose stories actually propagate this view is amazing!

The writer couldn’t be more straightforward in her words. Yes, forever is an illusion that we entertain ourselves with, sometimes. Well, even if you think forever exists, you should be able to be with yourself and know that that is okay. As I have said before, there comes a time in our lives when nothing can pick us up from a downfall but ourselves.

So learn to love yourself, the most. Learn to let go. Remember that life is an echo: you get back what you give. Be positive and happy, and make others around you feel good about themselves. The universe will send the positive vibes back to you, all in good time.

-:-

(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 #21: Was He Even There? (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

Was he even there?
Was that a commitment?

Or maybe, his attempt to come out of something, something even more disastrous in his past. Or maybe, he really meant what he said when he held my hands.

I suppose it was his convenience of not being able to stay alone for quite sometime. If he had really wanted me to stay, stay where I found my home, he would have cared enough for my fears, my dark and my pain, my worst and my all. He was aware of the dark, the grays and the blues but always expected the spring of me. He, who said he won’t leave, had left because now he realizes the world shall shower spring upon him but not me.  The whirl of wind and darkness are heavier than any armor. The dreamer in me did not stop loving him. I just stopped putting it up into my sleeve and making one last effort, every time when it’s the last time.

I already knew why it was necessary to give up on humans, friends and the dearest of friends but wasn’t able to do it any time but now I am trying to figure out how to give up on emotions. They tend to incapacitate you from applying your senses, basic logic in your dark times and leave you shattered with every drop of hope, expecting, imagining, venting yet hoping that this time if he’ll return, he’ll return with no part of him belonging to his past.


Sometimes when people love us, they unconsciously place us within the bounds of terms that are impossible for us to reach; these terms make love hard, and carve out vacuums in relationships where heartbreaks are born.

Love does incapacitate you, but it is beautiful at the same time, in the sense that you fight, you disagree, yet you still work towards an agreement. That is love. Anything that does not require effort is practically a joke. 

So don’t be afraid of walking away from anything that does not give you happiness; let go of expectations to live a happy life; and most importantly, let emotions only so close as to let them wash your feet, not drown you. 

-:-

(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 #18: Little Things (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

I was told to share an experience that affected my life or changed me as a person. To be honest, it is not just one thing but a million little things that happen everyday that affect me as a person.

There are times when I take tension and panic even in trivial situations but when I step out of the house and see people sleeping on the road in this scorching heat, kids selling things at traffic lights to manage their meager means of survival , old and middle- aged men sitting at the stations having amputated arms or legs begging it makes me think how lucky I am to have a shelter over me, a meal three times a day and my body organs in place and a family.

There are times when I feel that I am useless and worthless with no personality and self confidence. But then I see people who have gone through various ordeals or are still experiencing problems way beyond my imagination but they have the guts and the will power to keep a calm face and smile through it. That gives me hope.

There are times when I complain to my father about my silly needs not being fulfilled but when I go out and see the cobbler, the tailor, the rag-picker, the tea seller, I see how difficult it is to survive and earn money and that makes me feel rueful about my past behavior.

There are times when I judge people based on their looks, dressing sense or the way they speak without knowing them but as I get to know about them further I realize my false pre-conceived notions .

These are the little things that I experience everyday which give me hope to live my life a little better.

Though I’m still waiting for the day when something happens that makes me change the way I feel about myself in a better way.

But till that happens I have these little things making me feel blessed and always encouraging me to follow the policy of helping others in any way that I can so that I can bring a little joy in their lives.


Sometimes, some things around us have the capacity to move us and change us, and bring back to life a feeling, this unknown sense of power and capability that had been lying dormant for a long time. At times, these things are huge and consequential to our lives; other times, they are little, almost too vulnerable of going unnoticed. All we need is an eye out to look for such things. 

The ones who see, really see like the person writing this story, feel. They empathize. The knowledge that someone, somewhere is way worse off, and has bigger problems to combat puts things in a lucid perspective. Just knowing how someone has it worse makes us appreciate our little lives so much; it makes us thankful for what we have.

So the ones among you who are like the writer of this story, I’m sure you could relate. For those who aren’t, see this as an opportunity to let the writer’s experiences influence you; maybe change you, too. Be thankful for what you have; your something might be someone’s everything. 

-:-

(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 #17: Take Care Of Your Passports, Kids! (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

I guess it happened 4 years back when I had gone to Hong Kong and Macau for my vacations. This was my first foreign trip. So, that gets me to the theme of this writing- Value and Importance of our Passports.

As you might have guessed, I had lost my passports. We were at the ferry port and there, I had unknowingly left the bag which had our passports. We went into the shuttle and a few hours later realized that our passports had been misplaced. My parents got furious and tensed. They went back to the port area and searched at every corner possible. My mom told me that she had even put her hands in the bushes and the bins in order to find the passports.

Later, after viewing the CCTV footage from different angles they found that a street beggar had taken away our bag which contained some gadgets, food items and most importantly our passports. Then tracing his way home, they went to his so called jhopda (hut) which even had an LCD in it.

But, before anyone reading this makes assumptions, I must tell you that the beggar had no wrong intentions and that he had taken our bag so that it wouldn’t get misplaced. So yes, we then took a sigh of relief. And I understood how much important passports are especially when we are in some other country.


Along with the lesson that you must take care of your passports, I think I’d like to draw another lesson from this as well: the inherent goodness of people. The ‘stolen’ bag had everything: gadgets, food, things that an ordinary person wouldn’t be willing to return without any one to claim them. I don’t know if he did it because he was sincere, or if he just said he was taking care of it because he’d been busted; and I don’t really care. All I know is that I will choose to believe the former assumption. 

Somewhere, we all have a person within us who is striving to be good, and do good, no matter what his circumstance or what he gets in return. Selflessness is what its called. 

-:-

(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 #16: Woman Of Her Words (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

I have always been the type that believes – how hard is it to keep you words? I mean, you said it, so now value your words or who else will? But I think, the other type, supposedly those, who in the heat of the moment do as their heart guides, are the happier ones. Not that I’m saying that it is too difficult to keep your words, always. But these days, I see no wrong in not being able to do what you said, you will. I believe that the first group isn’t as liberated as the second and sometimes, we make ourselves a slave to our self imposed restrictions, even when the intention or emotion behind the words decreases in value.
 
I have lately stepped into the category of second type of people where my actions are not as well explainable as they were before. However I, as a person I am a lot more happier than what I was before. I have surrendered to the truth that we are all mere puppets in the spell of our emotions.
The realization to how I have been evolving as a person has been here, all this time. But it recently popped up when I read this- “Bitch, if you want to rant about how that asshole of yours betrayed you this time, then grab a diary before we judge you for getting along, again for a 100th time.”
1. How does that make her a bitch ?
2. Why would a person talking about her life bother you, regardless of whether or not she is going to so as she says? Why can’t we ever be a listening ear to people, without judging them in any way?
3. If she chose to get along, again, isn’t it again totally her choice ?
 
Also, I am still not as liberated of my past to say that she may get along with him, once again because whatever he did is a thing of past. Also, I am also not as headstrong to decide, once and for all that I love him and it is just fine if I keep going back to him.
This whole thing is to say that I need him and this is what my heart guides me to do right now.
I’m trying to keep my principled self at bay and I look forward to change from being a woman of her words, completely, with all intents.

Our words are somewhere our reflections, I feel. But sometimes we all say things that we don’t mean, and mean things we aren’t able to say. Being someone who loves to write, I feel words empower me. But like the instance described here, words can be used negatively too: in judgement, in jealousy, and in hatred. 

It’s a choice, really. Sticking by your words, or living as freely as a stream of thought: without any promises to bind one’s actions, with room to go haywire. Both have their pros and cons, I feel. Some people treat the promise of word as gospel, and it enhances the mutual feeling of trust between people. The other side, however, allows as much freedom as the other one doesn’t. It lets you do whatever you want, without feeling bound to anything or anyone.
So it all boils down to choice, really; choose yours well.
-:-
(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.)