I’m conscious.
Life’s been handling me a lot of challenges lately, and I’ve been feeling them from a pretty intense place.
I can’t help but feel every tiny detail with excruciating awareness.
I’m conscious.
I’m awfully conscious of every tiny pebble and every rock that hits me breaks me.
People keep telling me to be not so sensitive, they ask me to learn how to keep a safe distant from my feelings, but I can’t.
I’m a feeler.
I always have been.
I emote.
And I emote very impulsively.
Very instantaneously.
Emoting is my way of responding to life.
I am aware of the fact that every time I break down, it makes the people around me concerned. It makes them uncomfortable.
I feel everything.
I’d call it my curse if it were not for the fact that this ability to feel in such intricate detail every high and every low of my life has been the magic gift that’s aided my writing.
It’s been a big week, and it’s gotten me.
I woke up exhausted and tired.
All burnt out.
To be honest, I don’t remember the last time I bothered to have breakfast. I’ve had trouble eating. I go to bed at 4 AM, not because I’m on the phone with a friend, or that I’m texting someone – but because I am unable to balance my four hundred page book, and my academic commitments. I write and write and write, but then a thought – ‘All this, for what?’, and I just freeze, paralyzed with the thought of a tomorrow.
Last night, I literally had a friend look at me – I was having a bad cold, hollowed out cheeks, puffy eyes – and say, ‘Change your lifestyle, babe. This is killing you.’
I took some medicines and went to sleep.
I dreamt about my brother. I dreamt about my Dad. I dreamt about my Mom.
And everything that they’ve taught me. Everything that they have showered me with.
When I woke up, I woke up with these beautiful pile of words echoing and filling my head with a kind of light I haven’t known for a while now.

This is probably my mother’s most favorite quote. I’m not sure about it, maybe it’s something else – but as far as I’ve noticed, this is the one that she’s always told me and Sibi.
The power of words blows my mind.
It’s incredible, how even a fragment of wisdom from your childhood, can turn things around.
I’ve come to terms with everything now. Life may not be all that I imagined it would be like – hell, it might even be an outright fudging mess, but that doesn’t change who I am at the very core of my spirit.
I’m a Dreamer. A Fighter. A Feeler. A Believer.
And nothing on Earth is ever going to take me away from me.
This has turned out to be quite a long post, but the reason I decided to post this anyway, is because sometimes, as the Instagram Generation that likes to pretend we’re all having the time of our lives – we need to occasionally acknowledge the fact that not everyone’s gifted with being so calm and laid back.
We’ll all have our moments of insanity.
Moments of repellent obsession over something we want, but simply can’t get.
For me, that’s how it’s been for the past four years, as I’ve been pushing and pushing and pushing myself with my writing career, that I’ve completely forgotten how to take care of myself.
So this post goes out to all boys and girls, who are ridden sick with your dreams. The ones restless with the burden of passion.
And I know that with the board exams results and the million entrances around the corner, the maniac in you will be unleashed.
You’ll surprise yourself with moments of meltdowns.
I want you to take a step back, and remember that you are important. You are worthy. You are important.
I know the pressure is real. I know it’s important to be successful, but I also want you to believe that it’s equally important to be healthy, hydrated and at peace.
YOU ARE FUDGING IMPORTANT.
Don’t let anything or anyone succeed in making you believe otherwise.
XOXO,
Bala.
P.S. This post is dedicated to Gautami ❤ 🙂 For being so supportive and ever so loving!
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