Story #40: An Anonymous Note (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

Dear you,

I know you are suffering in your own, unique way. I know you have a story, a history and something that gives you pain. I know you have happy moments that you never account for, and sad moments you never forget. I know sometimes you hide your pain and mask your insecurities.
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Because I do, too.
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But I want you to know that you’re the writer of your own story. All the characters, living or dead, are the people you chose to be with, at that moment. Every episode you experience is influenced by the words you say and the things you do. Just like every turn adds on to you successfully getting to your destination, every choice adds onto making what your life is or will be.
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That being said, I don’t want to turn this into a sermon. We all know our choices make or break, but still, sometimes we end up saying and doing things that we shouldn’t have. Negativity fills us up. Things go bad one after the other, repeatedly, and everyone you’ve ever come to love seems to either not care, or be there for you.
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But in times like this, I want you to know that you have the power to change your situation. You always have the power to change the situation. I want you to believe that you do.
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Two years ago I had reached the lowest point in my life. I fell, hard; everything in my life seemed to be going wrong. I was sad, and I was sad all alone. To be honest, I still am. I haven’t recovered from it, but I’ve stopped thinking about it. I’ve learnt to focus my energy onto better things. I’ve learned to give into my emotions, but not too much. I’ve learned that emotions make you weak, and love makes you vulnerable. So I have tried to keep them both as far from myself as possible. I’ve come to know that I am alone, and that no matter what, friendship is, in the end, a beautiful illusion we distract ourselves with. Years spent in school together, times spent laughing, and sleepovers: they all dissolve into ego, selfishness and stop to exist. So I’ve just come to terms with the fact that no matter how much I may love people, they will never love me back as much. I will never be enough for anyone, and that is okay because people always have expectations, and expectations always lead to disappointments. 

This may appear to be a very pessimistic view of life, but I swear, I’m a very happy person and a self proclaimed optimist. Although, I believe now I’m turning into a realist. A realist who knows her flaws well; a little too well to hate them. A realist who for quite a long time didn’t look into the mirror because she hated the sight of her face. Anyway, I’m telling you this because I want you to know how I feel better about myself. 

I try to spread happiness. Try to. There’s something very satisfying in seeing someone smile; more so when I’m the reason behind it. So I don’t really care if its over something silly, or a story I just concocted. I just want to make people laugh. Maybe, I think, making someone happy is my way of making myself happy, because I never seem to be able to do it directly. Also, random acts of kindness. You have no idea how wonderful they make you feel. Wish the person who guards your front gate, buy the balloons from the little boy selling them at the red light, compliment your friend who’s insecure about her looks that she is beautiful, tell your parents you love them; there are so, so many little things that you can do that can literally brighten up someone’s day. They feel good, you feel good: it’s a win-win situation!

I know this because these are the things that no one ever told me. I also know this because I know it works. I wish someone would’ve been kind to me back at a time when I felt weak. I was still in school. I’d been crying for last thirty-five minutes in the toilet; that’s how I used to spend my lunch breaks. I’d stopped washing my sore, red eyes because I knew nobody cared enough to ask me what was wrong. This happened again, and again over different time periods in my life so far (I’m big on public crying, lol.) I’ve had multiple panic attacks inside fully crammed metros, and not one person has had the guts to ask me what was wrong. My point here is, in situations like this, people are afraid of being kind. Why? I don’t know. I just hope the people who are reading this aren’t the ones to turn their heads away when something like this happens. 

I want you to do one more thing. If you absolutely hate your existence, or you’ve just been experiencing bad things one after the other, do this: when you lie down at night, close your eyes and just say thank you to the universe for everything that exists in it for you, or rather facilitates your existence. Start with twenty things. The list will expand, day after day and you will realise the thousands of things that you need to be thankful for. I do this exercise at times when I feel that nothing is working out for me anymore, and it just makes me feel that I have way, way more things than I account for, and that my existence is magnanimous. 

I’ve babbled for quite a while now. I just want you to know that your life will go on; you are a unique, wonderful human being who is here for a purpose. I want you to know that right now is all you have. Smile. You’re allowed to cry. Let it out. Love. You will find love, inevitably, but for once try letting love find you? Everything good that is meant for you will come to you in good time. 

I hope you’re happy, wherever you are. 
I wish you well.

Yours. 

P.S: I listened to this song when I was going through a very low point in my life. It made me cry, a lot, but I also felt really better. I want to add it on here, because, I don’t know, maybe if you too are going through something bad, this could help. I hope it does. 

A Little Too Much (Shawn Mendes)


I cannot believe this is the last time I writing this after-note!

We all at some point feel exactly like the writer has described in the episodes of their life. Sadness, dejection, disappointment and what not. But really, true happiness lies in making others happy- be it through lame jokes (if you’re like me) or acts of kindness. These words have really struck a chord in my heart, and I think I will come back to this story, again. I hope the words have resonated with you just like they did with me. 

On that note, I declare The Anonymous Anecdotes Project as closed! I’m so thankful to everyone who’s contributed and/or read the stories; be it one, two or all forty.

Loads of love!

-:-

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 feedbacks and constructive criticisms 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 #9: To My Passion (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

I learn everyday.
I change everyday.
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I was 10 when it happened. It was a co-incidence, nothing more. It wasn’t a big deal initially. But gradually, over the years, it translated to one of the best things I own right now. It’s a passion. I have stuck to it for 9 years, and everyday it taught me something new. It taught me something amazing. It gave me perspective. It helped me through my lows and celebrated my accomplishments with me.
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I changed everyday.
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What began as a hobby formed most of my life, who I am today. And I don’t think I can ever repay what it taught me. My passion gave me a drive. It gave me courage to face anything. It gave me something I’ll cherish for the rest of my life.
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I change everyday.
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I do apologize for a being a little philosophical about this. It’s in my nature and I cannot help it at times. I wasn’t really sure what else I wanted to write in this anecdote other than things I already have. But then I got thinking. 
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I believe we all have different personalities for different places, we might be different at home than at our school/ college. We might be different when we are out with friends, and you get the point. But I believe that if one wants to discover their true self, they should look in that passion. Who knows, one might even be surprised.
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I am not basing all of this on philosophy, I also called on my good friend experience (we are new friends, by the way.)
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At times, I have been lost myself, but I was always able to find myself, or rather, it (my passion) found me. In the darkest of places I have ever experienced, it never let go of me, or this time around, I never let it go. 
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Anyone reading this post might think that I will pursue my passion as a career. That’s a no. I cannot. But I am not sad about it. I’m just glad I found it. I don’t believe that one always needs to follow their passion. One can just keep it to themselves for the rest of their lives and learn what it has to teach. Everyday.
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To my passion
Thank you.
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My project was titled ‘Anonymous Anecdotes’, so obviously I had predicted to get life experiences from people in the form of anecdotes. This entry, however is one of the few that stood out because it talked about something so positive and inspirational.

Only some of us succeed at finding that ‘one true passion’ in our lives; for that one thing that motivates us, moves us to action, and is always by our side; and I think we can look up to this story for inspiration. 
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This story does not only set an example, but is also a huge inspiration. To love something so much, to have something that you’re passionate about- be it art, poetry, music or a sport, and to stick to it for so long; imagine all the amazing experiences and lessons we’d have to learn to get to know something so well. It becomes both our strength and weakness, and it changes us in different ways. The repetitive “I change everyday” in this story just goes on to show how big of an impact a certain passion has had on this person. 
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So, discover your passions! In the words of Charles Buckowski,
‘Find what you love, and let it kill you.’
Without love and passion, what are we really living for?
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-:-
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(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.)

Six Strings To Salvation

Especially when it’s crafted in maple wood,
A guitar will feel warm and homely like mine;
The strings will lie open in front of you, stretched across its length,
Urging you to strum, to pluck or just a tender touch would be fine.

It’s melody will send goosebumps across your skin and shivers down your spine,
On your touch this lifeless object suddenly sprung to life;
Animated, you will try to place it in your arms ,
It’s hypnotizing beauty, like a lovers’ charm.

Curious at first, gawky next and finally acquainted,
It’s curve will perfectly sit upon your thigh;
You’ll run your fingers across the six strings-
Vibrations, resounding notes low and high.

Your fingertips will venture to briefly touch the fret-board,
But a shrilling pain recoils your hand;
This new touch is alien and hurtful,
Like a thorn pricks your skin, as sinfully as it can.

Dawn and dusk set in and fall multiple times,
Until your fingers will finally settle in;
Acquainted, to make the fret-board their home,
When calluses will develop to defend your skin.

Your fondness of the beauty of a guitar will grow multitudes,
Between rapid acoustics and outpouring emotionally-
You’ll find your happiness exuding through those strings,
And your salvation in this melody.

Last Night

I don’t know when I drifted off to sleep last night,

feeling alone, dimmed lights;
A mind haunted
By the thoughts of the past,
And a mouth silent
Speechless with the grievances of the heart.

I don’t know when I drifted off to sleep last night;

It was cold
And I felt the sensation of your body by my side;
Alien arms hugging me
And my comfort cushions, your proxy .

I don’t know when I drifted off to sleep last night,

Dizziness overcame
And I forced myself to let go for the first time-
So I plunged into the unconscious,
Where you knocked the door; atrocious
the Circumstances were, as you raised a storm;

Wake came, but with an overwhelming terror,
Shutting down, the lids of my eyes giving up-
But you remained, forever lit;
In the folds and crevices of my poor disdained heart
Begging attention,
my kleptomaniac,
conquering my sanity from the start.

Last night, now I remember,
Maybe my recollections are farce;
For the experience of you felt like a hallucination
Doubters would say  real was mixed with false.

But I was enchanted by your scent
Blinded by the spark in your eyes;
Cast by your spell
and fascinated by the sheen of your light.

My kairos, when we were both laid side by side,
That was when
I drifted off to sleep last night.