Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts

Saturday, 6 August 2022

Stubborn Hopes by Shristi Nangalia

05:00

 


I have always been said that fears, remorse and regrets are paralytic. But lately I have realized that the reason for my decision paralysis is.. Hope. 

While things around me take their sweet time to fall into place, I waited. I waited for magic to happen, I waited for signs from the universe, I waited for the wrong to turn right on its own... hoping it was possible and that it will happen tomorrow, or day after, or months after.. 

Soon enough, after perceiving that its unrewarding, I started fearing hope itself.. which seemed to turn even more futile for my growth. I needed answers. Should I hope or should I not? Does hoping involve a strategy? If not hope, what do I hold on to? 

And then yesterday, when I was trying to fall asleep late in the night, my phone buzzed. It was an email from 'The Artidote'. It was their weekly newsletter about self-faith, penned by Jova. I opened the email and started reading... 

What does it feel like to have full faith in yourself?

What must it feel like to hold a deeper knowing that you can trust?

When we dare venture to move beyond what we currently know and experience something new (gain new perspective), not only may we be able to answer some questions we’ve already posed for ourselves… but we may find answers to questions we don’t yet know to ask.

But you gotta dare venture. Otherwise you will remain with the same questions in a loop; coming up with answers based on a limited perspective of where you've already been..

We cannot be afraid of something we don’t know (because we haven’t been there). It's impossible, literally. What we are afraid of is repeating old knowns.

That’s why meditating on what it means (and feels like) to believe in myself has been crucial in this moment of my life. Knowing that I will always know what’s best for me and that I will always have my back, no matter what new territory I reach, has made all the difference.

Some people call it “confidence.” But confidence is really only the belief that you are always capable of learning new things.

I paused for several moments. I re-read it. 

I understood that its not hope that I should cultivate.. It should be belief. A belief that I have what it takes to change my life for the better. 

I understood that I have it all- experience from what's done, acceptance of what's to come and tendance for self. 

Rather than outsourcing good feelings, I promised myself to try to produce them myself with the gifts from life available to me. 

I set up an alarm 30 minutes preceding to what I usually set and tried to sleep.


Written by- Shristi Nangalia
On cover- Smita Sharan 


Wednesday, 13 July 2022

Dream big, they say. by Shristi Nangalia

16:34


how can one hammer wood without a thud? 

how can one stay parched in case of a flood? 


how can one be oblivious of dark clouds 

and focus only on the silver shine? 

how can one wreck all inhibitions 

and let acknowledgements align?


how can one feel satiated in a moment 

when they've craved of a lifetime?

how can one shun the hollers of the head

and the mind's incessant chime? 


how can a heart be full of something

and still miss it? 

how can a throat that is dry and suffocating

doesn't care to admit?


how can one yearn of someone 

more than they should? 

how can one train the touches

and tame the kisses so good?


how can one walk through the rain

without hope, faith and might? 

for now, the only way forward

is to dream of clear skies and moonlight.


Writer- Shristi Nangalia

On frame- Toshni Ghatate 

Saturday, 10 June 2017

Estranged within moments by Shristi Nangalia

18:00
Summer vacation had always been my favourite part of the year, just like many other Indian kids! Maa, papa, bhaiya and I made sure we travel a lot and meet other members of our extended family. Visiting our old family home, visiting nana-nani’s place, hanging out with cousins, sleeping until noon and non-stop eating! Even maa and papa did not follow the ‘you have to bath everyday’ rule!
Well, all of this decreased as we grew up. My grandparents perished one by one and everyone else started fighting for the little land and money that they had left behind. Family became foe and cousins became awkward strangers. We four were left with a forsaken vacation thereafter.
We are all grown up now and these memories have started fading. It was 6 years ago that bhaiya got hired by a construction firm in Dubai. About 2 years later, I got a handsome job in Doha as an art instructor. I was allowed to live out of the country only because bhaiya lived nearby. Maa and papa wanted to continue staying in India. Bhaiya always travelled overnight to my place on festivals and holidays even for a day to make sure I don’t get stranded alone on happy days. We celebrated holidays by roaming about the city, shopping for each other and eating junk for dinner.
During his foremost year in Dubai, bhaiya gifted maa and papa a trip to UAE with his first salary during the summer vacation. I joined them too and we had the time of our lives- reliving old memories and enjoying together like we did in India. Since then, it became a tradition. Every summer vacation, we picked a new spot in the Middle East and spent the most happening time of the year together.
This year was different... this year was special. We all planned to stay at my place and tour Doha. I had saved and bought a gold chain each for maa, papa and bhaiya. It was the first time that I was offering them something. I had also planned to introduce the love of my life to them, and ask them if I could marry him. But, things did not happen accordingly.
A few days before the arrival of maa, papa and bhaiya at Doha, I woke up to a shocking news. I could not digest what I saw on the TV. Many neighbouring countries including UAE had broken ties with Qatar. I did not care about the crisis, I did not care about the accusation made, and I did not care about its certainty... it was not the matter of concern for me then. I could only see a failing plan... a failing tradition.
I did not know how to react. I was angry and anxious at the same time. I wanted to run away from here. Papa sounded very scared on the phone and maa was crying. Bhaiya convinced them that the situation is nothing to be worried about. But then, we all were highly disappointed.
I could feel the nostalgia seeping in. Back in the past, relations got abandoned with the family, plans changed, people separated, amity died. I could see everything repeating.  

For whatever reasons it may be, why making a connection and keeping the relation alive has to be so demanding? Why do most relations end up in a brawl? I had lost faith in humanity once again. No connection ever remains forever. Now, all that I could do is wait... and hope. At least, hope remains forever.

Sunday, 2 April 2017

The Superficial Deity by Shristi Nangalia

17:00
She woke up two hours early that day
to take a bath even before it was dawn,
The poor woman was worried for her daughter
but leaving her at home, crying, she was gone.

To mend the grief, she was all set
but, ‘that time of the month’ delayed her ploy.
Since, she was to tour the holy house,
had to returned ablaze, wishing she was boy.

The holy house was far away from her place.
Yet, she had an unwavering trust,
on the spirit who had the power that week
to fulfill all her wishes, to kill all her disgust.

Three days later, she was then eligible,
to visit the deity, and take her favours.
For which she took with her- rupee notes,
all that she collected over the years.

She waited in line for her turn,
Got kicked, and touched, and cursed on the way.
But, it was heavenly when she finally got a glimpse
of the divinity which sat there in brown clay.

She was not even finished reciting the hymn
when the rupee notes were snatched from her
she was then quickly pushed aside, and outside
and joining hands, she came back home in ardour.

Her daughter’s condition was worsening with time,
but she choose to wait like any other true follower.
By the time she almost lost her hope,
Her rupee notes had made its way into the minister’s quarter.

With no option left, she took the little one
to the family that she had, long before, made her foe.
The aunt who was a local nurse took charge
And fixed her daughter, not saying a ‘no’.

That day, the poor woman learnt a few lessons
of whom to trust and whom to ask,
of who is the giver and who is the taker
and of who to believe and who to unmask. 

संसर्ग | Sansarg

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