I have never been happier.

It’s been a month since my mom left me, alone, in a city whose language I do not speak and people I do not relate with. A month and I’ve met so many people, I’ve made friends, I’ve thought extensively about being alone and adulthood. I’ve managed to somehow be very quick with some people, trust them too quick. It’s not that I regret that decision yet, only time will tell, but im happy now. I’m happier now than I have been in a long time. It’s almost as if the thunder that once shook my spine has now subdued into soft whispers of the sea, barely audible, late at night. The music hasn’t stopped, but it’s a different genre now. The instruments are calmer now, a little more exciting also, but not at the cost of my sanity.

I think about the constant dilemma of being 17, away from the only reality you have known for your entire life. But in a month, the definition of home changes. Living alone and yet you feel surrounded by comfort. When there’s no crying at 3 am, when there’s sleep at 10, when there’s a schedule which is dull sometimes but also consistent and when there’s no screams of alcohol and drugs and addictions, I suppose, even grey seems better than black. And I often wonder if the sudden wash of calm I have let upon my being is a result of a cyclone’s aftereffects? Is this how it feels after a war tears apart a country? Is this how it feels to have an entire island change latitudes after a tsunami? I suppose it’s calmer than during the war, the remnants of what once used to be.

And in the process of enjoying my new found calm, there are bouts of anger and sadness and nostalgia for things that never happened. I feel angry at people for not letting me have a childhood, experiencing universal moments.

The disparity in expression and experience makes me sad and weirdly nostalgic too. Nostalgia for the heavy ‘what could have been’. The question that haunts the collective experience of human race, only because critical thinking was blessed upon us. Growing up and living alone in the capacity I am right now, is giving me perspective too. I am a firm believer that because we live in a world with 3 dimensions, our opinions on issues and topics should be, at the very least 2 dimensional. Thinking about people and cultures and words and art and history not only as an individual who was affected (or sometimes not) is evidence of narrow thinking. Said realisation has made me question the moral compass I once held and how I thought of the actions done by people around me. Everyone wishes they did things differently but most people end up choosing the option that suits them the best in the present. Hindsight is not a strong suit of humans apparently. 

A month I’ve been in a city, she’s pretty and she’s bold and she demands attention. She’s not the kindest of the lot, she’s not the most helpful at times, but she’s there, she’s strong and she lives and breathes determination. She has stood through storms and cyclones and she knows that there will be calm, before and after the destruction and tears, and she’s ready to pull herself back up. She’s not going anywhere. I’ve not met my family in a month and I’m happier than ever. It is calm, it is serene, but the city I live in, is teaching me to not expect it to last forever and be prepared for when the cyclone comes. Tsunamis never last forever, but neither does sadness and neither does tranquility. 

It’s nice to have that reminder often. 

and what am I doing this for?

Recently, I have been thinking about the meaning of life, I hope I didn’t. The thing is, going to class, I often wonder why do I bother? Taking these classes, studying, giving my exams. Why does anyone bother? What is it that binds humans to one profession, one person, one kid, one place? Some answers, are very obvious, the way we have been taught about living is so- narrow, you’d think that we would have suffocated by now. The way we see our parents, and our grandparents, and our friends, their parents, our role models. It’s all very ‘singled out’ one-for-one.  But really, if that was the reason we were to live, if our entire existence was supposed to be held in different rooms, all within familial buildings, why is it that I seek the unknown? I have always thought of myself as a rational, logical person. Philosophy is interesting to think about, but implementing ideas so vague, seems like the most illogical, irrational thing to do, yet recently I find myself looking out for trees, and watching the neon signs as I pass them by, to stare at the temple gates and deities for a second too long, to feel- to really see, hear, touch. It doesn’t take alot of effort too, to notice and to be aware, yet the little extra push, the forcing of oneself to acknowledge their surroundings, to be present, is something humanity has forgotten along the way. We have no tyrant but ourselves. We have made moulds and have expected entire species to fit them.

The degradation of the human experience is evident. The ideal life, is no longer one that is satisfied, or happy, it is one which has stability. Does it root from our fear of the unknown?  Or the impoverished way we have learnt to live our lives? In cities as big as New Delhi, it isn’t difficult to find millions, ready to not step out of their comfort zone. To never challenge themselves too hard, to never take a leap of faith. I understand them, I really do. It was very hard for me to click on ‘BA English’ than the glorified, safe, easy- ‘B.Sc’. I defied a mould that day. I defied my own inhibitions about what I should be, I remodelled my destiny. But again, I ask, why did I bother about going to college? Why do I look forward to it? When it is, hopefully, evident that I despise the way our society functions? And college- or rather- institutionalised education is one of the most atrocious thing we have given ourselves? 

I would like to believe it is because of our desire to connect. The biggest leverage we have on other species, the reason why we continue to be at the top of the food chain, is because we have the gift of language, and of empathy.  Other species too, communicate, but the depth of languages and of art that we, as humans, have created is something to admire, each day. We have created a system, a complex symphony of small symbols, that tell how we feel, see, listen. The ability to give these words- sounds, and to add even further complexities to differentiate in their pronunciations, to add even smaller symbols to know how to speak a mixture of these words; the creativity, this is what makes us humans. Then why do we stick to the same old regular jobs? The same old places we grew up in? What are we so afraid of? 

Failure. I’ve talked about failure before, and I still, ardently believe that failure is an event, not an adjective. The reason why humans, despite having the skills, and knowing that they have the resources, fail to act boldly is due to their fear of failure. Fear in itself is binding, and failure is incapacitating. Together, they are bound to doom our growth. Some 150 years ago, most monarchy’s came to an end, capitalisation was on the surge and independent choices were encouraged. A new era- I suppose- of humanity had ascended. One where we were less afraid to try simply because it was the trend, slowly turning familial. People who took risks at the time, are now, surely, dead. But their families are enjoying the fruit of their labour. I am sure they too, lived lavish lives . Others which were too afraid, I am sure, remained so. Incapacitated by their own minds. 

And I understand the need for comfort. What are we if not beings of togetherness. The highest form of punishment to a human is not starvation, or lack of access to water. It is isolation. We are beings of society, and asking even the most illiterate of humans, you’d know that staying alone, causes ‘madness’. So I understand the need to be in familial surroundings. To not change, to fear having to be alone, in a place you’ve never been in, with a person you’ve never been with, to do a job you’ve never done;  even if that same comfort, is causing you more pain than peace. 

Why am I doing this, a tangential question from the problem I set out to resolve. Why am I applying to colleges, eager to be in a different place, to meet people I’ve never met before, to study subjects I’ve probably never studied before. Why? The answer is more simple than my philosophical takes on human civilisation. With living the way my parents, my cousins, my uncles, my role models have lived before, I hope to find hope. Hope to live a life that no one forgets, to impact people. To defend my humanity, to do something that couldn’t have been done by anyone else. To make decisions that inspire other people to do what their heart says, in a system that works mostly on brains. To have the final freedom. Freedom to see, to hear, to touch and feel. To live in places I’ve never lived in before. The world is such a small place, we think too largely of. I hope, that by doing what I am, I can achieve something memorable. Obviously, I mould to the pathways set 150 years ago. Life has made me cautious of risking too recklessly, but I know that if I give my progeny the freedom that I lacked, the resources I lacked, I could, at the very least, know that I am doing all of this, for my people, for hope.

Bye snakers!

Poets and Kings

Inspired by the song ‘soldier, poet, king”

I thought I’d get poet. I got king. Very fitting indeed.

Born with a sword in hand, he was meant to rule
Spoke his words with symphony sadness forever ensued 
They couldn’t be more different even if they tried 
This is the melancholy of poets and kings alike. 

The one with the crown, which shone ever so bright
Wished he could give his responsibilities away, even if just for a night
The one with the mind bound to be hazy, 
Wished he could stop thinking about the horrors of existence
And not be as lazy
They couldn’t be more different even if they tried, 
This is the melancholy of poets and kings alike. 

Both were tired of living with a burden
One with the role to give away his life,
During the battles of Buxar or Verdun alike 
One living a life that seemed so carefree it was almost an illusion 
Only the poet knew that it was just a delusion  
They couldn’t be more different even if they tried, 
This is the melancholy of poets and kings alike. 

This isn’t to say that they didn’t have their own perks 
But shiny houses could only bring so much identity  
And not having to saving a kingdom could bring only so much serenity 
Living as imposters in their skin, 
They had been curated by their own kin.
They couldn’t be more different even if they tried, 
This is the melancholy of poets and kings alike. 

He woke up at midnight almost every day. 
With ideas blooming in mind, some he wished went away. 
He was a tortured soul having seen the world raw, 
He knew they could chew him up so he had to put up a thick wall

On the other hand, he was fed with gold, 
Silver and diamonds were used to make his home. 
He had no recollection of when he chose to bear the throne, 
He could only remember his years alone. 
There weren’t many, who shared his sadness 
Only few were meant for this madness. 

On a doomed full moon night
Both of them sat up straight, 
As the moon sparked through their windows, 
“why do i have to grow
why do i have to do anything
cant i just let my demons consume me and simply die” 
They knew that was just wishful thinking, 
They knew the moon was their only linking. 
They couldn’t be more different even if they tried, 
This is the melancholy of poets and kings alike. 
This is the melancholy of poets and kings alike. 
This is the melancholy of poets and kings alike. 



Thanks snakers for reading. Love you all!

Does money buy happiness?

I used to think that if I got rich, I would be magically happier.

– Emma Chamberlain

“When I was younger, my answer would’ve have been- yes. I always had everything I need(ed). I had an incredible childhood, but I was always comparing myself to the rich kids at school. It made me feel angry and resentful because their lives seemed easy. Even though my life was incredible. But I still felt bad because I didn’t come from money.”

This is a rough extract from Emma Chamberlain’s podcast. And this is the experience of many children growing up. She goes on to mention how when she had just started making money as a 17 year old, the luxuries she could afford further solidified her belief. But nonetheless, the question still stands, Does money buy you happiness. Well for starters one has to identify what happiness means to them. Is happiness in saving millions for an early retirement. Is it spending quality time with your loved ones. Or is it in meeting the societal demand of a big house, bigger bank account?

For many people, happiness is complex, and as human nature goes, the concept of happiness is every evolving among most populations. From wanting a good nice Hyundai to maybe the cheaper SUV to the next new Ferrari, our wants never stop. And for a second; objectively thinking, that is a good thing. If our aspirations go dormant, so does our will to live and explore. Now, that is not ideal is it? Our goals and hunger to achieve them are not only respondent to our own self image but are also vital for the company we work with, or the people we love. Having no goals is reflective of a sad, sad life. But again, if sadness lies in not wanting anything, is happiness the opposite of it? Wanting all and always?

Well, no. The theory of humanity has always been in  extremeties. We love to believe that it’s all black and white. But ironically, the most interesting thing that we are yet to explore in the human brain is the grey matter. The part that is neither black nor white. Having said that, it is the truth that when your basic necessities are met you will be happy. There is no doubt that someone with a small cramped apartment and having barely any money to feed themselves will not be nearly as happy as someone who doesn’t have to worry about the next meal and the electricity bill next month. The freedom of travel that money gives you. The liberty of having access to quality health care these are all immeasurable. But still, what is happiness? 

Many believe that it is a subjective question impossible to answer. I dont. I think that happiness is when a person does not have to worry about much in their lives. It is not possible to live a stress free life. Stress is not a one off event. It is engrained in our living and you cannot imagine to live without it. But again, happiness, I believe, is when you can stop working for a few days when you dont feel well, you can afford quality education for your kids, provide yourself with good opportunities; when you have a nice little backyard with a dog and life doesn’t feel like living on thorns all the time. Financial independence is not overrated. Pseudo happiness lies in the macro luxuries. In the best red car, in the diamond studded gowns. Things that can wear with time. Education, experiences and moments remain forever, bags and houses they rust and wither. The beauty fades the brain remains. 

So, does money buy you happiness? Yes and no. Because sure it can give you the freedom to explore, resources to have memories and experiences that you otherwise would have missed out on, but on the other hand, in the pursuit of making said money, you may loose on the people you can share the experiences with. Making huge money often has a pattern. 4 wives, 7 kids, all from different wives and girlfriends. You might earn a good amount but you have no family to share the money with. The only leverage is, with insane money, you can buy friends. And the thing is, in todays date, money isn’t that hard to find, but authentic relationships and experiences are worth the world, the world and beyond. 

what is anything anyways??

I overthink. I believe most of us do, or at least have, at some point. or you know those shower thoughts. or like late night weird ass things you question about the planet? like what if an alien attack happened RIGHT NOW, what would I do? or like if I was robbed RIGHT NOW what would be my escape plan? and sometimes your brain tricks you into thinking that this the best use of your time. to make an escape plan, of your own house. but my overthinking has a ✨variety✨

I can think of anything from ‘what if I met harry styles’ to ‘what if I had a more, chilled out family?’ and the last thought stuck with me, for a little while. what if my parents were the more traditional. the more normal kind? what if my brother was more calm and laid back? what if my grandparents were more involved in my life? what if I made more effort in relationships? and so many other ‘what ifs’

these thoughts are overwhelming to say the least. and honestly, they are tiring and a waste of your precious time on this planet, but I understand that it is hard to stop them, they are like this pesky little insect that just won’t leave you. and its hard because people may mistake your obsessive thoughts with being philosophical. which ok to be fair, in my case im kinda like this overdramatic wattapad fantasy writer?? I mean, I basically overdramatise every little thing.

anyways, like I was saying, stoping these thoughts is a long hard process, and im not a psychologist so I won’t even try to mention any techniques, though I’ll mention a few links that might help, right here

but sometimes, we do question everything. our economic status, do we deserve it? or do we deserve less or more? we might even question what it means to be a young adult? to be ourselves? to have friends, or family? at least I did question all of them-

here’s a tiny tad bit of a long poem with everything and nothing all at once. I meant nothing and every damn word in this poem : D

What is anything anymore?

Sometimes I question 
What would be my state
If I had a normal family
Would I still be up at 3 
Overthinking?
Or would my papa 
With his angelic voice
Put me to sleep?
Would he still be drinking away
All his problems 
Or would be he up and awake
And try to make a way 
For his children?
Would my mom be crying
Because she hates her husband
Or would they be a team
Like they promised in their vows
Reality is nothing anymore
People can change with the blink of an eye 
And that is freaking scary 
To be 15 
And know things that shouldn’t be known until later on in life
You grow up faster,
Correction, you are forced to grow up faster
And you loose yourself in the process
What is you anymore?
Do you cry 
Or not? 
Do you smile
Or not?
Do you think of magical fairytales
Or not?
What are you anymore?
You lost yourself 
The second your father 
Raised his bottle to his lips
The same sound that once comforted you
Keeps you awake
Wondering
Worrying
What comes next?
15 year olds shouldn’t be thinking about making money, right?
15 year olds shouldn’t be up at 4 am thinking of a plan to run away, right?
15 year olds shouldn’t be crying silently when the world is sleeping, right?
But what is a 15 year old anymore?
13 year olds shouldn’t hate the man who brought them to life, 
13 year olds shouldn’t be making comics of himself in a world without his father
13 year olds shouldn’t be wishing on someones death
13 year olds shouldn’t have to see their hero drown himself in whiskey and beer, gambling away and crying when he lost
But what is a kid anymore?
A wife shouldn’t want to leave her husband
A wife shouldn’t want to seek for divorce
A wife shouldn’t have to ask her husband to leave their children alone
Correction, her children alone
But what is a working mother anymore?
A husband shouldn’t have to ask her wife for money to gamble away
A hero shouldn’t have to miss out on his child’s life for liquor
A father should have to be the kind of man her daughter would want for herself not the kind of man she is told to stay away from 
But what is a father
What is a messed up husband anymore?
What are friends anymore?
The ones that leave when things get too messy?
Or the ones who stay
And make things worse?
What is family anymore?
The blood that connects them
Or the money that blinds their filthy actions?
At this point I’ve started to question 
Every thing I’ve ever known 
And for that I’m grateful 
Because I’ve known wrong
And treated them as rights
Its time I realise
That nothing is black and white
And nothing is anything anymore.

bye snakers, meet ya later 🐍

Overthinking.

Is Overthinking making you a sinner or saint?

Who is a sinner and who is a saint? Two polar aspects of being human. On one side we have someone who knows nothing but evil. Is cruel and someone we dread, on the opposite side of the spectrum, we have an imagery of a person who is more or less “divine”. Someone full of wisdom, knowledge and will always continue to do the right thing, an angel of sorts. But how do we decide, who a person is? Is it their actions? Thoughts? Societal position? Or something they do at night before drifting off to sleep?

Overthinking or Analysis paralysis, is when a person spends way too long, over analysing everything, which can range from life altering decisions to things as minuscule as the breakfast they’ll have the next morning. People can also have a varied “degrees” of overthinking which usually ranges from overthinking a couple of times in a week to being paralyzed while making important decisions and as a result, coming to no conclusion and missing out on a lot of opportunities.  

Sometimes overthinking can lead to a loss of observation and shifts your focus from the larger things in life. It can make you not acknowledge the endless possibilities and instead force you to look and spend your day thinking and analysing situations that may not even be nearly as impactful and this leads to a lot of wasted potential.

In a discussion with an anonymous source on their personal experience with overthinking, they described it as “a defensive mechanism”. In their words, “When you live in a household with parents that are OCD about everything and can be quite sensitive, it starts to make you think a lot more, probably to cope with the ever-increasing stress”. Further, the source explained why overthinking has also been beneficial to them. “I would say that being an overthinker is often accompanied by higher levels of empathy and reflectiveness. It also tends to help you become someone who is future oriented, which is a good trait when it comes to your career”

But that is just the pretty side of the underlying monster. Overthinking can lead to trust issues and insecurities if the overthinker is in a relationship. They can end up believing that an issue is bigger than it actually is, which is usually because they misinterpreted their partner’s actions. Too much of overthinking might even make someone avoidant of challenges and taking risks, which may impede on their ability to form meaningful relationships or achieve social goals.

In an interview with another source, they explained why they overthink. “I am pretty sure, I didn’t choose to overthink, but it chose me. I suffer from OCD and it’s not like most people expect it to be. Sometimes, I just HAVE to wash my hands 5 times, because if I don’t, my mind will convince me that someone I love, will pass away. And it’s not only things as small as washing my hands, it transfers onto obsessively thinking about that one incident that happened 2 years ago. I know that I always doubt my academics, or my achievements, I have felt like I didn’t deserve any of what I have, an “imposter syndrome” if you may. I have an obsession to make my family proud, and I always question if I am doing that. When I say “always”, I mean it. The issue is, I don’t have a clue WHY I want to make them proud; I just do. It’s just sad and depressing. It eats up a lot of my mental space and makes me tired on a ridiculous level. I wish I could stop it, but I just can’t seem to.”

All of the people who I’ve interviewed are teenagers. Humans that are just like you and me. But they continue to live with this unnecessary habit. Causing both pain and focus. Well, I was told to answer the question of whether overthinking makes you a sinner or saint, but I can’t do that. Not now, probably never. Because its not an objective question, it never was. Is obsessively thinking about your future, your end goal, a sin? Is over analysing your partners action a good and noble deed? We can never answer these questions because this “obsession” isn’t chosen by a person, it is inflicted onto them, it is not their fault, they are not the cause, and therefore, it doesn’t make you a sinner OR a saint. It makes you valid. It makes you able to analysis. It makes you wonderful. It makes you human.

-Jahnavi Dhir. 2021