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.
Because I do, too.
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.
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.
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.
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.


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 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 #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 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 #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


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

The Open Book

If this world is a library, and its people books,
then I am the forgotten volume of heavy words and complicated phrases-
covered in dust, with my yellowing pages,
tucked at the back,
where nobody goes.
You will only be able to find me,
if you look for me-
it might be hard, searching for me,
setting me apart from my likeness,
but I hope you don’t give up.
When you do find me,
I hope the long paragraphs of my history do not bore you;
I hope you don’t put me down.
I hope you turn my pages, with hands as delicate as those tending to a bleeding wound.
I hope you read between my lines.
I hope you discover me, word by word, to be the one to fit your liking;
And if I don’t fit, I hope you don’t read me on halfheartedly-
I hope you don’t continue to hold onto me with the intention of putting me down.
I hope the words that span my existence interest you, and paint pictures inside of your head, the place where I now want to be.
I hope you devour me, with every syllable that I silently serve.
I hope you find yourself completely obsessed with me, unable to put me down,
and so we spend days and nights together,
because although you want to take it slow,
you want to get to know me just as fast.
I hope that when you know you’re inching towards the end,
you slacken your pace just a little, so the both of us have time
to adjust to the loss, that we will have amassed,
as you toss me aside and go looking for another
rhyme that doesn’t end as tragically as this one;
look how my ability to find love is so
abysmal, despite my dilapidated state and spine,
reckless poetic verses and metaphors,
darling, I still failed to make you mine.
“You see now, my love?
I’ve never really been a secret diary-
All this while,
I’ve been the open book,
that no one is willing to read.”



June 2017: The ‘Anonymous Anecdotes’ Project!

Well hello there, guys.

I’ve been looking forward to writing THIS BLOG POST since a long time now! As I had stated in my previous update, June was scheduled to bring you a new project on my blog- and it WILL!

I will be hosting a project called ‘Anonymous Anecdotes’. We all have stories. Some give us strength, and some, weaken us. Some have taught us great lessons while others have given us a good laugh. I intend Anonymous Anecdotes to be that platform where its okay to share, read and relate to each others’ experiences, and all the while learn from them too.
Under this project, anyone of you can send me an anecdote- an embarrassing moment, a loving memory or anything that you’ve experienced in your life the thought of which you cannot let go of. It can be a low point or a high point of your life, your first crush, your first salary, literally anything. But it must be something that contributed into your knowledge of life in someway, as most of our experiences do.  It can be an anecdote about the way something in you changed because of external circumstance or about an emotional change you feel within yourself. Anything. Type out the anecdote you want to talk about, and then describe the way it change you or your perception of life! You don’t have to keep it short or limit yourself according to the number of words; just write it out; whether its your happiness or sadness. There will be no judgement on my part. And the best thing, it will be completely anonymous. The author’s identity will be kept completely confidential, take my word for it. There’s a reason this project is called ‘Anonymous Anecdotes’!

The length of this project completely depends on the number of stories that I receive. I initially chalked it out as a thirty days project, so I’m hoping to run it from the 10th of June to the 10th of July. I’ll start uploading stories on the 10th of June, so be sure to inbox yours before that! The sooner you send them the better.

So please, fire away! You can mail me your stories at and I’ll be uploading them here, so that someone somewhere, anywhere can read it, relate to it, be happy, sad with it, or maybe, even learn something from it!


Book Review: Needful Things by Stephen King

Genre: Horror Fiction
Year: Originally published in 1991
Rating: 4.5/5

There are a very few books that despite the volume they amass, could keep any reader glued onto the pages. Needful Things by Stephen King is one such book.

True to his genre, Stephen King has brought a novel with a fresh thrill that only builds up in intensity as you read on. In the small town of Castle Rock arrives a tradesman. Taking advantage of the closely knit community, he sets up a shop called Needful Things, and successfully shrouds it in a mystery, giving the chatty townsfolk an impetus to make their own assumptions about the kind of store it is. As time progresses and the day of the ‘grand opening’ arrives, the store sees floods of townsfolk pouring in to feed their curiosities. Mr. Leland Gaunt, the apparently charming owner of the shop finds no end to his delight at the positive response to his store, and finds his sales increasing by the day. Each customer who comes in finds an item that they had always desired. However, each item that sales out has a price, a very unique price that the buyer has to pay. But they don’t have to worry about paying the price immediately, just as the tagline of the book describes- buy now, pay later.

Needful Things is just the thing you need if you’re looking for your fill of thriller. The story and the characters have been developed to evolve across the span of the book very efficiently. The plot builds a little slowly, as the book is sub-divided into three parts. But give this book a little time, please. This one’s a big book. There are a lot of details and character development that may bore you in beginning, but it’s only a very important part of the fuller, bigger picture. So please be patient with this one. I understood the importance of these descriptions and details by the end of the book, of course.
For the length of my read, I adopted all the turmoils and conflicts of the characters as my own. So obviously it was irksome to find every character screwing things up almost 70% of the story. Conceptually, the plot is a very engrossing. I swore to myself I would leave the book half read as my exams were approaching, but I was still glued onto it with just one week left for my paper!
The book switches through point of views as it shifts between the characters across different chapters. Multiple stories occur, paralleled through the chapters of the book. Contrary to what I had assumed, instead of confusing me this kept me reeled into the book. I was a tad disappointed by the ending- which went into a little too much science fiction meets thriller and fantasy. It made the book look like a huge buildup to nothing. Hypnosis features very often in the book, right from the beginning, and taints it with a subtle hue of science fiction. The ending, however, brings on a slight cringe because it could be entirely ripped off of a children’s story book. I was not expecting it, so I found it a little weird. The ending is not easily predictable. The main characters do find closure towards the end of the book, but the last chapters did put me in a fix as to whether this would end just fine or not.

Would I recommend reading this book? Yes! This book is for young adults who are into science fiction, horror and thrillers. I love Stephen King, and he never fails to amaze! ‘Needful Things’ is one book you won’t be able to put down.