A Bowl of Elusive

What’s your purpose in life? That is such a loaded question, isn’t it? I am thirty-two years old, going to be thirty-three in a few months and I sure as hell don’t know my purpose. I remember a few years ago, when asked what I truly desired, I would say, “a tension-free life, where I didn’t have a stressful job, with tyrannical bosses and upcoming deadlines breathing down my neck all the time”, and yet, today when I have it, life is still stressful, albeit for different reasons. My wife, who is way smarter than I am, told me that your purpose should be different than your desire or your ambition. For her, it’s service – to children & humanity. Her purpose is a noble one and I wish I could say I had the same. That got me thinking – does your upbringing shape your purpose? My wife was raised in a devout Christian household, where the concept of church and community was instilled in her early on. But was that the sole reason for her having such an honor-worthy purpose in life? Probabl

I remember all of us sitting in the dining hall at our place in Sambalpur. I wasn’t more than five years old at the time. My grandfather was seated in his usual wooden recliner, with my grandmother by his side in a matching chair, while my father sat at the dining table peeling mangoes for everyone to eat. I was on the floor fiddling with some toy of some kind while my father was entertaining his parents with anecdotes from his time in the armed forces. After a while, the conversation shifted to me and how I was such a big responsibility, especially since my father was raising me alone. My father looked at me with pride and announced that I’d become “a doctor or an engineer” when I grow up.  My father’s plan was to be hands-on with my upbringing and to a large extent he was. But it was short-lived, as just five years later, he died of kidney failure and I came under my grandparents’ care. They were good people and their style of parenting involved giving me a wider berth to grow creati

I have always found it difficult to make friends. Normal day to day interactions make me nervous. And yet, I’m often perceived as very confident and outgoing. Welcome to my world where opposites co-exist. I laugh & I smile. And I find it tedious. You see, I grew up in an unconventional setup; no parents; no siblings; raised by grandparents. And at one point of my life, I was an abuse victim. Mix all that up and you have a recipe for either a socially awkward guy or a psychopath. Thank God I am the former. (Still haven’t ruled out the latter.) For a large part of my life, I have been perceived as “weird”. When I was in school, I was widely unpopular for no apparent reason. I was most nice to people but they’d ridicule me or not talk to me at all. I kept trying to get into people’s good books for a while, but when that didn’t work, I gave up. I started getting into little tiffs with people who wouldn’t accept me. But I haven’t been the violent or disruptive type so my tiffs w

Of late, I have been coming across more and more instances that point toward the devastating effects that insecurities have on shaping a person's personality. It is terrifying how utterly irrelevant matters are capable of instigating such paralyzing insecurities in our minds. I have broached this topic in many of my earlier articles, specifically referring to my own insecurities. I think it is time we took a closer look at this demon that most of us share. For instance, an ex-girlfriend of mine faced a lot of ridicule at the hands of her classmates in school for being too "thin". This made her insecure about her build and that insecurity stayed with her till she met me. I pointed out to her the fact that all supermodels are slim and people all around are body-shamed for being plump. I have been called names like "Yeti" and "Daanav" for being tall and heavy. But this article is not just about body shaming and its effects. It is about the effect

The pursuit of happiness has always been a tricky one. I am no one special. I am an average guy born to average difficulties like any other person. But I don't stay happy. Now I am not sure whether other people do but I'd like to think so. Otherwise, what's the point of living?  I do experience bouts of happiness every now and then but it is usually followed by patches of melancholy. I don't understand it. Although my life had a rocky start, things kept getting better. It was more or less a smooth ride since my eleventh year, but joy always eluded me. Other people seemed to notice it too. I put up a happy face all through childhood and even became the class clown, but I could never manage to make or keep many friends. I had a lot of admirers though, and for quite some time, the attention I got from them kept me going. But attention is no substitute for self-esteem. My self-worth or rather the lack of it kept on eating me from inside. It affected everything,