Helping others is a basic gesture known to humanity, bonding together and helping a fellow man or woman. In times of tragedy, the stories of those who help others are inspiring. It includes stories of people who have helped the nation recover from national disasters and terrorist attacks. Some men and women sacrificed their lives to help others. Our, Armed forces and the police force safeguards our country, and many risk their lives for the common good.
But…I believe there must have been a phase in each of our lives when we have expected help from our near and dear ones, but we got no help. I know how disheartening that can be. You expect support and encouragement from people you consider close to you only to be completely rejected, criticized, or laughed at.
It can be tough to swallow all the “noise” around you. It literally boils down to learning how to not care so much about what others think and, conversely, trying to comprehend what goes on in their minds.
Sometimes when people don’t support what you’re doing, it may be more about them than you. Maybe they are insecure or jealous! Or maybe it could be plain ignorance.
It is wise not to take their words to heart. If their criticism isn’t constructive in any way, they may be discouraging you by painting a gloomy picture before you.
Don’t let others’ objections become your truth and limit you from creating what you want in life. Don’t grumble; instead, be grateful! Because anything is possible if you believe in yourself and work hard. Tell yourself you can do this without their support.
It’s very natural to want support and encouragement from the people around you, but it is possible to do what you want to do without it. Next time someone denies extending their helping hand, thank them in your heart; constructively use the denial and do the work yourself!
The word gratitude is derived from the Latin word gratia, which means graciousness or gratefulness, depending on the context). In some ways, gratitude encompasses all of these meanings. Gratitude is a thankful appreciation for any tangible or intangible things that the individual receives. With gratitude, people acknowledge the goodness in their lives. Gratitude also helps people connect to something larger than themselves as individuals — whether to other people, nature, or supreme power.
I agree igniting the gratitude vibe helps us to see that not everything is terrible. But many times, we force ourselves to be grateful. There are certain situations in life when we pretend everything is okay when actually it’s not! By doing this, are we not masking our actual feelings? When we show gratitude to hide the real problem, it can never be a catalyst for happiness!
Many of us have met some people in our life who express gratitude in every situation irrespective of the fact, whether the situation deserves our gratitude or not! Some people keep thanking other people multiple times in return for a small favour. There is another category of people who express gratitude to others for their own achievement. They downplay their talent and success by inappropriately expressing gratitude to other people. These expressions of excessive gratitude can have negative impacts on us.
Thus, consciously cultivating an attitude of gratitude builds up a sort of psychological immune system that can cushion us when we fall. Moreover, scientific evidence shows that grateful people are more resilient to stress, whether minor everyday hassles or major personal upheavals. Hence, the contrast between suffering and redemption serves as the basis for practising gratitude.
The boy was about to snatch the bottle from the lady’s shaky hands, but was interrupted by his ear-piercing phone call. He immediately reached for his phone and answered the call. The boy was alert not to get into any sort of mess with this drunk lady. So he tilted towards the edge of the seat while talking to his friend. “Dude what is it? I’m in the middle of something, wait for my call”, the boy whispered loudly.
Meanwhile this lady could faintly hear a strain of music coming from nearby. Although she was off balance, she managed to get down from the car in search of the music. She somehow managed even with bleary watery eyes, occasionally making wide sweeping gestures with hands. Finally she located that in a distant right end, there was some sort of party going on. She could see three four windows that opened towards the lane, revealing the interior of the room which was decorated in reddish-pink party lights. She was curious to know what exactly was going on in that place and hence decided to move closer in order to have a better view.
She had taken nearly eight to ten wide steps and now the music was somewhat audible to her. She was about to proceed further, but the moment she heard the song, she froze in her place for few seconds. It was the bekhayali song. “Bekhayali mein bhi tera hi khayaal aaye,
(I think about you even when I am not thinking)
Kyun bichhadna hai zaroori? ye sawaal aaye,
(Why is it important to separate? A question arises)”
She was determined not to proceed. The singer’s husky voice texture brought out the vulnerability of stirring lyrics. The track depicted the extreme frustration of a lovelorn Kabir, weaving the narrative into a zone of angst and pain, as opposed to the otherwise soothing song. But then it was… it was her extreme curiosity that forced her to take those steps forward just to see what was going on in there.
She took few steps forward and noticed that there was a black sedan abruptly parked diagonally. This was a blessing in disguise for her, because the room and its contents perfectly reflected in the rear mirror of the car. The lady slightly bent her knees and she could see a couple. The girl had turned her back to him and the guy was trying to explain something. The guy was offering the girl a flower bouquet and she was constantly shoving it aside. The lady straightened herself and smirked the couple.
She was about to turn back, but something caught her attention. She bent again and rubbed her eyes for a better view and noticed that in the right corner of the room was a heart shaped cut piece which read “Happy Anniversary”. The lady jolted and straightened up. She forced two three large gulps from the bottle and turned to leave.
She tried to walk hurriedly down the street, but her legs are telling otherwise. They were swaying – left and right. The harsh scent of drink could be smelt of her. She was struggling to keep her balance. It was like some sort of outer body experience. Her legs didn’t work as she told them. Neither did her hands. Nor fingers. Somewhere, deep inside she knew her brain was sending signals telling her what to do. Whether or not her body was listening, was a different story.
She continued to take large mouthfuls of the drink and burst out into peals of obnoxious laughter. “Bekhayali mein bhi..,” she uttered clumsily followed by the peals of obnoxious laughter. It was followed by an abrupt pause. She took another mouthful of the drink.
“Tera khayaal aaye…,” she uttered in a muffled voice followed by a loud abrupt hiccup. And again burst into peals of hysterical laughter.
“Teraaaa khaayyaallll aayyeeeee…,” she repeated and the laughter followed. It was a high cold cackle, piercing the cold smoky air. Her breath came in quick gasps in between her uncontrollable laughter. But deep down she could feel tears gather in the corner of her eyes, threatening to spill over.
She kept repeating the lyrics in a muffled tone and made her way towards the car and that boy. She was almost near the car, and noticed that the boy was seated at the edge of the seat and with a fuming look. As she was about to reach for the handle, they heard the siren of the police van. The boy pulled her inside the car clumsily. “Are you of your mind? Where had you been? Well, I doubt if you have a mind!” he roared harshly at the lady. He was about to settle in his seat and shut the door, but the lady shoved him hard. He fell off his seat as he was off balanced. And the lady shut the door abruptly. “You mad woman! Let me in! Police behind”, the boy screamed from outside and banged the door.
But the lady didn’t bother to listen, neither did she change her seat. She sat in her seat and without knowing in what gear the car was, she sped off in a zigzag pattern. The scene between the couple and the background song was constantly dancing before her eyes. She was constantly rubbing her eyes, as if she wanted to erase them by rubbing them off.
The boy, was petrified. The police van was fast approaching and the lady had taken off. He was frantically looking here and there. He could feel his heart thumping loudly. He could not decide what to do. He could hear the siren approaching him in a lightning fast speed. He was frantically looking, but could not find a place to hide. Meanwhile, he heard a loud thud…
“Sir, how can you choose that slumdog Aman?”, Punit asked his coach disrespectfully.
Mr. Sharma made a quick reply – “Why not Punit?”
“Sir you know very well that Aman can’t afford to lead these….”, Punit smirked.
“Stop your speculative argument Punit, it is none of your business”, Mr. Sharma said with an air of authority.
This argument between Punit and his coach Mr. Sudhir Sharma, did not go down well with the other players. Mr. Sharma noticed it too. But he knew that it was nearly impossible to calm down Punit. So he quickly made his way towards the field to help the other players.
Seventeen year old, Punit was a die-hard cricket fan and was desperate to become a superstar cricketer. He always addressed his fellow students with an authoritative voice. His peremptory attitude was deprecated by all. In other words, he was the only pugnacious member of the R.P. Cricket Academy. The reason behind Punit’s behavior was that he was the son of a famous business tycoon Mr.Vikram Shah. Mr.Shah was a man of principles and he was adored by everyone around him. But it seemed that Punit had not inherited any of his virtues. Moreover, Mr. Shah was the trustee of RPCA, So Punit enjoyed his own reign in the academy.
On the 1st of November every year there was an inter-city cricket tournament. Punit was always chosen as the captain of RPCA even if there were other deserving candidates, just because he was the son of Mr. Shah.
Punit was actually a good-for-nothing captain. He used to pick up fights with the other teams and only for Punit the entire team of RPCA had been disqualified, many a times in the past three years. Mr. Sharma had had enough of Punit and this time he wanted Aman to lead RPCA. Aman, unlike Punit was like by one and all. He had won hearts by his humility and his mind-blowing cricket tactics. He had amazing leadership qualities as well, which lay hidden because he had never been given an opportunity.
Somehow Punit learned that Mr. Shah wanted Aman to lead the team. He became furious and confronted his coach. But, it yielded no results. The very thought of Aman leading RPCA got on his nerves. He was determined to castigate Aman. “If I inform Dad, he will tell me to relax and try harder next time. Huuuhhhh!!! No, it’s of no use. I’m almost 18, and I can handle my problems, I don’t need any one’s help”, Punit angrily murmured to himself. He clenched his fist in anger and violently swung his arm with the intention of throwing his bat. But just as he was about to release his grip, he felt someone’s hand on his shoulder.
Mr. and Mrs. Kapoor were married since last twenty five years, but the specialty of their marriage was that, every year they fought bitterly on their anniversary, as a result of which they give each other some horribly good silent treatment.
When the silent mode is on, Mr. and Mrs. Kapoor, interact with each other through whatsapp even for simple casual interaction; Mrs. Kapoor had saved Mr. Kapoor’s name as “Impossible” in her phone and Mr. Kapoor had saved Mrs. Kapoor’s name as “headache”.
It was their twenty fifth anniversary, and as usual due to some misunderstanding, Mr. and Mrs. Kapoor, were giving each other some horribly good silent treatment.
“I need space”, Mr. Kapoor texted his wife while settling down in the backseat of his car, signaling the driver to hurry up, “Wow! Join NASA”, Mrs. Kapoor replied as she settled down right next to her husband in the same backseat.
Mrs. Kapoor took out her Lakme Eyeconic Kajal and she looked at the mirror in front of her just as she was about to apply it, but to her surprise, Mr. Kapoor was already staring at her with “you-are-such-a-headache” look on his face, and Mrs. Kapoor reciprocated him with a “you-are-impossible” look, and carried on with her business.
As they were heading towards the outskirts of the city, Mr. Kapoor saw a herd of buffaloes happily grazing and immediately he texted Mrs. Kapoor, “see, your relatives…” and Mrs. Kapoor read the text, saw the buffaloes and replied, “Yeah, my in-laws.”
This conversation brought a smile on their faces, and seeing them smile, Karan smiled whose position is often demoted to that of a driver, once the silent mode is on between his parents, but that’s never an issue for him, because he knows his parents love each other a lot no matter how horribly they fight.
Radha finished lunch and returned to her desk. But she found it hard to focus on her work. No matter how much she tried, glimpses of old-man and his son’s conversation and glimpses of Vansh’s behaviour paraded through her mind. She somehow managed to juggle her thoughts and finish the work. Radha booked a cab to return home as she was having a bad headache and didn’t want to take the bus.
As soon as Radha entered the house, she could hear noises from the kitchen. Radha smiled to herself, she knew Pragya was up to something.
“Masterchef seems busy”, Radha called out loud, and it startled Pragya. “Ohh Rads, you are back. How was your day?” Pragya asked cheerfully.
“Please don’t ask, I have a bad headache” Radha shrugged.
“Calls for an Adrak wali chai (ginger tea) doesn’t it?,” said Pragya.
“Yes, please”, Radha replied with a sigh of relief.
“Well it’s almost ready, but first, you freshen up,” said Pragya in a relaxing tone. Radha smiled and nodded.
Meanwhile, Pragya switched on Tv and arranged four hot Samosas and two cups of steaming hot Adrak wali chai (ginger tea) on the table.
“Inder Bhaiya’s samosa?” Radha giggled loudly, and her face lit up.
“Yeah I got them while returning”, Pragya giggled back.
“Aww Prags, you are such a sweetheart”, Radha cuddled her cheeks. Radha and Pragya loved Inder bhaiya’s samosa. The spicy mashed potato stuffing, the perfect coating and finally, deep-fried in ghee was an ideal evening snack. “Hmmm yummmmmm,… Radha said clumsily after taking a big bite.
“Yes, okay. Now you tell me what went wrong today?” Pragya asked.
“These men I tell you”, Radha replied in a disgusted tone.
“Men?” Pragya asked in a curious tone. Radha rolled her eyes and saw Pragya’s typical wicked smile and narrowed eyes. Before Pragya could proceed, Radha got up and brought her laptop.
“Another blog! Rads, please have some mercy on the readers” Pragya teased Radha.
“Well, to be honest, even I don’t know what I’ll write”. I think I have to sort out things in my head first and then pen down something. Radha replied in a confused tone and kept aside the laptop without even opening her blog.
“Common Rads, it’s your head, not a wardrobe that you will sort it” Pragya giggled.
“Very funny,” Radha replied, making a face.
Later that evening, Radha and Pragya finished their respective chores. They ordered dinner. Post dinner, as they were about to retire to their beds, the doorbell rang sharply. Radha and Pragya exchanged glances. They knew it was an old man. As usual, it was Radha opened the door and handed him a bowl of ice. Then Radha too retired to bed but brought her laptop also. Pragya very well noticed it.
“Rads you normally publish your blogs at 4pm and now its 11pm. Are you sure you want to publish something now? I think you should be a little more cautious regarding the content that you publish. After all, it’s just a virtual world”, Pragya said in a serious tone.
“I understand”, replied Radha and kept aside the laptop for the second time without even opening her blog.
They discussed some casual stuff, and in no time, Pragya dozed off. Radha switched off the bedroom lights and tried to sleep. But she could not. She kept tossing and turning in her bed. No matter what Pragya or anyone else says, Radha had a special place in her heart for her blogs. It’s not that, blogging is her medium to express her feelings or gaining sympathy or mere appreciation from her readers, it was probably her way of venting out her pent up emotions.
Radha finally got up and switched on her side of bed light and brought her laptop for the third time. She logged into her account. She wanted to go through the comment section once again, but she dismissed the thought and opened the new post section.
“Prags is right, I shouldn’t be showcasing my feelings publicly. I think I should use mask my feelings”, Radha muttered to herself as she began typing.
“Why does a candle desire to melt? Why does the moth strive for burning? I think the test of this passion is life,… After all every soul is thirsty and every heart has a question,..”
Radha took a deep breath after mindfully typing each word and finally pressed the publish button. She glanced at the wall clock, it was nearly 12am.
Vansh was driving his car when suddenly a lady riding a scooty overtook his car. In spite of the heavy traffic, she seemed to be modestly juggling her scooty through the crowd. In order to save his favorite car from getting a scratch, Vansh immediately applied the brakes. The car screeched and came to a sudden halt. However, this sudden jerk, helped Radha make her way back to the real word. Vansh gave a sigh of relief, as he succeeded in saving his car. Vansh gave a quick glance at Radha, to make sure she is fine and he immediately got down from his car.
“Hello Madam,” Vansh shouted sharply. He wanted to show his anger, but since he noticed a lady rider, he kept his cool.
The lady had already turned her scooty in opposite direction. “Sorry, I have to rush, she managed to say urgently.
“Yes, only you have work, as if I spend the entire day playing tic tac toe!” Vansh yelled, literally fuming inside.
“Vansh leave it, we are getting late, let’s go”, Radha said through the window.
Unwillingly, Vansh turned towards his car, and at the same moment, the lady halted and turned. “I’m really sorry”, she said.
Vansh angrily scoffed, “Keep it to yourself!”
“Pragyaaa” screamed Radha from inside the car. But before anyone could speak a word, they had to hurry because of the deafening honking.
“You know her?” asked Vansh sharply.
Radha could still sense anger in his tone. “She is my bff!” Radha replied cheerfully.
“BFF, like seriously”, said Vansh sarcastically.
“Yes, what’s your problem? By the way, what angered you the most that she was about to dash with your favorite car or she got saved from your lecture?” giggled Radha.
Vansh gave her a disgusted look and Radha burst into laughter. Radha managed to cheer up Vansh and finally they reached their office.
Radha was well known for her efficiency. But that day, she could hardly focus on her work. “Pragya is back in town! How come she didn’t inform me? Is everything alright?” her mind was flooded with thoughts. Just as she was settling down on her chair, few notifications caught her attention. “Rads, I had planned to surprise you, but it got spoiled so unexpectedly. Please don’t get mad at me. See ya after office”, Radha smiled as she read the message. “Prags is back! My goodness, what a surprise! Well, I’m glad she is back, I needed her badly as I’m in a vulnerable state now,” Radha murmured to herself.
After office, Radha went straight to her apartment. Just as she was about to open the door, “booooo” shouted Pragya and popped up from behind the door.
“Aaaiiioooo” Radha screamed… “Prags, you literally scared me! You and your pranks ufff! But I’m glad you are back. Prags, I missed you.”
“I missed you too Rads.” Pragya said as they quickly embraced each other in a tight hug.
Radha and Pragya were best buddies. They were meeting after two months. Pragya had been on an official tour and returned that evening. Their friendship is genuine and they adore each other’s company. Radha is an orphan and Pragya has no sibling, so they are basically sisters from different mothers! Radha was more composed as compared to Pragya. Pragya was always the fun-loving person. No matter what the situation was, she always managed to cheer up Radha. Radha was a nerd and on the other hand Pragya was tech-savy. Nevertheless, their friendship was seasoned with their best and their worst phases of life.
Later that evening they ordered their favorite dinner, and they sat down to watch their favorite daily soap. After sometime they retired to their respective beds. Pragya and Radha were room-mates during their college days. And they are still room-mates even though they have different jobs and different work schedules.
“So what did I miss?” asked Pragya.
“Not much. By the way, why were you riding so recklessly today morning? Every time you create a scene! Radha replied grumpily. And all these while Pragya was busy giving humorous facial expressions as a sign for Radha to stop her lecture. “Anyways, how was your day?” Radha asked casually.
“Well should be asking you the same question,” replied Pragya, narrowing her eyes.
“He is my colleague. But works in a different department. I had already told you”, replied Radha.
“Okay, so are you both..?” chuckled Pragya, “Whattt?? Prags stop it!” snipped in Radha. “Okay okay, just kidding” said Pragya.
“Prags, listen I have to tell you something”. Radha became bit serious as she prepared to say something.
“Go on babe, I’m listening”, Pragya said looking at her friend.
Radha narrated the entire “Happygolucky” episode to Pragya. “Hmm, I see. Rads do have any clue if that person is for real or not? And what if he is not a guy, what if it’s a girl who is portraying as a guy?” Pragya said in a worried tone. “Yeah even I was thinking the same. But then see the comments. I was in two minds after reading them” replied Radha. “Rads are you sure you want to get into this again! I mean are you sure you want to invade those territories again, which hurt you the most”, Pragya asked in a serious tone. “I don’t know Prags. I’m not sure. I don’t know what to do about it? Should I confront him?”, Pragya could clearly sense Radha’s dilemma. “Prags I think more mature and emotionally strong this time. But then, part of me feels the feeling is genuine and part of me wants me to stay away from the mess” said Radha in a convincing tone. Just then the doorbell rang. “Ah the old man”, sighed Pragya.
Radha got up and opened the door and there he was the old man. But this time he asked for ice as well as some balm because he had a bad headache. Radha hurried with old man and wished him good night. She immediately hurried inside, but as usual, Pragya had already slept. Radha smiled to herself. Pragya always had this habit of dozing off in between conversations. But she felt relaxed, seeing Pragya back.
She quietly snuggled into her own bed. She was about to switch off her bed lamp that she realized she hasn’t yet checked the comments on her recent post. She immediately grabbed her phone and tried accessing her blog but it didn’t open. She then got up and tried accessing from her laptop. She managed accessing her blog page, but the particular post and comments were still not loading. “Arrgghhh, this network glitch. Its nearly 12am, what can I do now?”, Radha murmured to herself and kept staring at the revolving cursor….