Wow. It seriously has been a while, hasn’t it? Honestly, I’ve been wanting to blog since such a long time, but there was a huge of problem which I couldn’t overcome—I had no internet and, obviously, without internet there’s no way I can blog. Since last blog entry, lots has happened, it’s unbelievable. My life seems to be more eventful than a movie I tell you. And I’m not over exaggerating- although I do wish I was.
My father went to India a week or so back and the very day he reached India, I caught a fever. It wasn’t a minor one either as I had a temperature of 103. I came back from school dizzy, shivering and with a fever. Let’s just say it was not a good combination at all. I didn’t do anything that day except sleep of course. Or at least I tried to sleep, but I was feeling really uneasy. Perhaps it was because of the fever or because of something else I just couldn’t place. Then we got a call in the middle of the night when all of us were trying to sleep- a call from my uncle. Yes, it was quite the surprise because my uncle usually doesn’t interact with my mother and he was calling her on her cellphone. More than anything, what was unexpected was the news that was conveyed through the phone call.
Yes, it seems like my grandmother- my father’s mother- had passed away a few minutes after midnight [India time, of course]. She was going through a lot of pain and she was really weak. Not to mention she was quite the aged woman, but my logic didn’t work against my tears. What could I do? A mix of the news and my fever was not exactly the best combination there was. Nevertheless, I stayed strong because I was really worried about my father more than anything because it was his mother and also because he was alone in India. My mother texted my older brother in the states telling him the news about my grandmother and the news shocked him a lot as well.
Then again, my Chemistry test was absolutely because of my emotional and mental state at that moment .I found out that I, apparently, can’t concentrate very well with such a fever. And the results of my test really did bring me down. It’s like I re-found a whole bunch of new guilt that was stored in the corner of the cupboard. But that’s over. It was a few weeks back and now things are settling down although it feels weird to stay that I have only one grandmother left and nobody else. Things are stable now and we’re all fine and recovered. We’re strong. We know that it’s better that she was put out of her misery instead of staying on this Earth and suffering so much. Not to mention that she did live her life and tried to enjoy it. And my dad- who loved her so much- was there for her till the very end and I believe that was really appropriate.
So my fever was running for an entire week- 10 days to be exact and it was not pretty. I’d had headaches, stuffy noses, dizziness- the package. I, of course, refused to go to the hospital since I was sure that my fever would diminish and it did eventually. Actually, towards the end the fever started to turn into a cough. A really horrible cough. And to be honest- that cough is still somewhat there, but I’m perfectly fine now. For the most part at least. My little brother on the other hand? Not so much. Yesterday he got really sick. And I mean really sick and he’s getting better, but not by much. His fever is like the people’s moods here. It’s FLYING up and down constantly. We can’t tell whether he’s getting worse or better and the reason for the weird changes in his body. I only pray and hope that he gets better quickly.
To be honest, my original plan was to write more and to write a longer entry. Not because I owe anyone anything because I don’t. It was because I really wanted to, but something happened. As usual, my train of thoughts got interrupted and my flow of writing just stopped. The emotion and state of mind I was in changed and I couldn’t continue with the very same topic. Granted, I could have just moved on to a separate topic, but if I need to do that I’ll probably just write another blog entry. Just to make it more organized. Or something to that extent at least.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Reasons. Changes. Decisions.
I’m a Hindu. Yes. There are many different sub-categories when it comes to Hinduism. I am one who is into Krishnaism. It’s a wonderful thing really, but this entry wasn’t to describe about that, you see.
I used to fast. But not anymore.
I fasted continuously for five to six years during Ramadan due to my personal reasons, but I stopped this year. I won’t be sharing those reasons, so it doesn’t matter. Things changed. Reality sunk in. I had my reasons previously, but now I don’t have them anymore, so why should I? There’s no reason to do it anymore. It’s over. I admit it, that I did fast for two entire weeks this year but I stopped after that.
Besides my personal reasons, it stopped making sense to me that I stayed hungry for 11-or-so hours without changing my lifestyle at all. In those two weeks I fasted, I realized that I was simply becoming more lethargic and things were going down-hill. It all seemed to be pointless. Things were all still the same. After a month of refraining yourself from everything that’s bad, you just jump back into it all, so what’s the point? I’ll tell you—there’s no point at all it seems to me. It’s as if you’re trying to oblige everyone else by doing something like this. And don’t- don’t tell me it’s not true.
I know him. He’s like me. No. He’s like me vaguely. But barely. I refuse to let us be similar. No way. He fasts every Ramadan and he’s not a Muslim either. I don’t know his reasons; I’ve never asked him for them because I never bothered. However, I do know one thing. After this one month, everything’s going to go back to normal. His temper, his drinking and his smoking. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has been smoking while keeping his fast even. Then tell me, what’s the point of starving yourself completely if you’re not doing anything to improve yourself? Why, darn it? Why? I wish I knew the answer. I honestly wish I did.
But the point is that I chose not to fast. Someday, I hope that fasting will make sense to me again and that I will have the willpower to go forth will my reasons and drive all those obstacles away. When this happens, I’ll gladly re-begin the practice. But no, not this time. Not for now. Maybe next year; maybe the year after that. You’ll never know.
You have absolutely no right to put me down because of that. Glaring at me from the corner of your eyes. Throwing accusations at me when you don’t even know half the story. It’s not your place to do such a thing. The bond, the reason. It’s between me, myself and my God. You have no right to interfere in between and think that I will cave into your social standards and expectations and care about the fact that maybe- just maybe- I disappointed you or that I’m a hypocrite. Because, by God, I can tell you that I’m surely not. I was only using the realized that dawned upon me after all these years to guide me in the direction that I’m going.
I used to fast. But not anymore.
I fasted continuously for five to six years during Ramadan due to my personal reasons, but I stopped this year. I won’t be sharing those reasons, so it doesn’t matter. Things changed. Reality sunk in. I had my reasons previously, but now I don’t have them anymore, so why should I? There’s no reason to do it anymore. It’s over. I admit it, that I did fast for two entire weeks this year but I stopped after that.
Besides my personal reasons, it stopped making sense to me that I stayed hungry for 11-or-so hours without changing my lifestyle at all. In those two weeks I fasted, I realized that I was simply becoming more lethargic and things were going down-hill. It all seemed to be pointless. Things were all still the same. After a month of refraining yourself from everything that’s bad, you just jump back into it all, so what’s the point? I’ll tell you—there’s no point at all it seems to me. It’s as if you’re trying to oblige everyone else by doing something like this. And don’t- don’t tell me it’s not true.
I know him. He’s like me. No. He’s like me vaguely. But barely. I refuse to let us be similar. No way. He fasts every Ramadan and he’s not a Muslim either. I don’t know his reasons; I’ve never asked him for them because I never bothered. However, I do know one thing. After this one month, everything’s going to go back to normal. His temper, his drinking and his smoking. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has been smoking while keeping his fast even. Then tell me, what’s the point of starving yourself completely if you’re not doing anything to improve yourself? Why, darn it? Why? I wish I knew the answer. I honestly wish I did.
But the point is that I chose not to fast. Someday, I hope that fasting will make sense to me again and that I will have the willpower to go forth will my reasons and drive all those obstacles away. When this happens, I’ll gladly re-begin the practice. But no, not this time. Not for now. Maybe next year; maybe the year after that. You’ll never know.
You have absolutely no right to put me down because of that. Glaring at me from the corner of your eyes. Throwing accusations at me when you don’t even know half the story. It’s not your place to do such a thing. The bond, the reason. It’s between me, myself and my God. You have no right to interfere in between and think that I will cave into your social standards and expectations and care about the fact that maybe- just maybe- I disappointed you or that I’m a hypocrite. Because, by God, I can tell you that I’m surely not. I was only using the realized that dawned upon me after all these years to guide me in the direction that I’m going.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
How Can You Try Fixing Something That Isn't Broken In The First Place?
I survived. The first week or so of school is finished and I actually survived. Pretty amazing, isn’t it? Wow. This entry sounded calmer than I intended it to be. In fact, I just now finished reading someone else’s blog entry and I wanted to write an entry arguing upon such a thing, but I digress. Forget it. Perhaps some other time. I’m not in a mood for being argumentative or such at the moment.
Let’s be realistic for a short moment now. I seriously miss grade 11. Never thought you’d hear me say or type that now, did you? It’s true though. No, no. I don’t miss the tons of studies and the continuous notes that we had to write, but I miss lots of things. The main thing- or rather person, is this really amazing girl named Arfa. Others- it’s a different story with them. It’s because, for me, each person holds a different meaning and valufe I’m directly writing this now because I do miss that gal. I feel a bit- what do you call it- cheerless without her because I’m so used to having her around. So used to someone actually being my friend. If it was a new school, I’d have no problem in making new friends, I can guarantee you that. TWS, on the other hand, it seems like now the student’s bubbles are so concrete that if you try entering, it’s almost as if you’re invading their privacy. Granted, my presence or absence might mean nothing to her since she’s the type of person who can easily gain friends and click with people, but still. It just feels a bit strange. I suppose my bad habit is almost in motion. But don’t worry. I won’t let it come back. I refuse to let it come back. As for the others? Oh, whatever.
Remember. I’m still Richa. I’m a rock star with my freaking awesome moves and I don’t need them!
Lol. Right, I just had to get that out. Oh, but I do wonder what would have happened if I attended Cambridge instead. No. No! Don’t get me wrong! Not because of her. She has nothing to do with my decision okay? I’m just saying what if I /did/? I mean I did want to attend that school in grade 10, so what if I had transferred there in grade 12? Would it have met up to the expectations that I had reserved in my mind? Well, either way, I shall never know now and it’s of no matter to me. What’s done is done.
The meaning? Just keep moving along. Move along and you’ll make it through somehow.
Or something to that extent at least. Hm. Arabic; I wonder how I’m going to catch up with such a subject since I barely even know the alphabets. Granted, I did pass last year, but that was a different story. I was allowed not to pay attention and such. This year, on the other hand, things have changed. Many things have changed. And truthfully, not many have in a good way. Who knew that K’s attitude would change so dramatically? Who knew that my resolve would slowly change because there seemed to have no point in such a thing? Who knew that Y would slightly drift apart now- is it natural anymore? I wonder about that. But rarely. I have no time for such things; to sit and mull about such unnecessary things anymore. Or at least, it feels like I don’t have enough time.
Wow. The mood of this entry really did change quite a bit, but because of the melancholy song playing on Windows Media Player and my eyelids wanting to close, I think I shall just stop this entry here it is since I have seemed to write a bit of what I wanted.
Let’s be realistic for a short moment now. I seriously miss grade 11. Never thought you’d hear me say or type that now, did you? It’s true though. No, no. I don’t miss the tons of studies and the continuous notes that we had to write, but I miss lots of things. The main thing- or rather person, is this really amazing girl named Arfa. Others- it’s a different story with them. It’s because, for me, each person holds a different meaning and valufe I’m directly writing this now because I do miss that gal. I feel a bit- what do you call it- cheerless without her because I’m so used to having her around. So used to someone actually being my friend. If it was a new school, I’d have no problem in making new friends, I can guarantee you that. TWS, on the other hand, it seems like now the student’s bubbles are so concrete that if you try entering, it’s almost as if you’re invading their privacy. Granted, my presence or absence might mean nothing to her since she’s the type of person who can easily gain friends and click with people, but still. It just feels a bit strange. I suppose my bad habit is almost in motion. But don’t worry. I won’t let it come back. I refuse to let it come back. As for the others? Oh, whatever.
Remember. I’m still Richa. I’m a rock star with my freaking awesome moves and I don’t need them!
Lol. Right, I just had to get that out. Oh, but I do wonder what would have happened if I attended Cambridge instead. No. No! Don’t get me wrong! Not because of her. She has nothing to do with my decision okay? I’m just saying what if I /did/? I mean I did want to attend that school in grade 10, so what if I had transferred there in grade 12? Would it have met up to the expectations that I had reserved in my mind? Well, either way, I shall never know now and it’s of no matter to me. What’s done is done.
The meaning? Just keep moving along. Move along and you’ll make it through somehow.
Or something to that extent at least. Hm. Arabic; I wonder how I’m going to catch up with such a subject since I barely even know the alphabets. Granted, I did pass last year, but that was a different story. I was allowed not to pay attention and such. This year, on the other hand, things have changed. Many things have changed. And truthfully, not many have in a good way. Who knew that K’s attitude would change so dramatically? Who knew that my resolve would slowly change because there seemed to have no point in such a thing? Who knew that Y would slightly drift apart now- is it natural anymore? I wonder about that. But rarely. I have no time for such things; to sit and mull about such unnecessary things anymore. Or at least, it feels like I don’t have enough time.
Wow. The mood of this entry really did change quite a bit, but because of the melancholy song playing on Windows Media Player and my eyelids wanting to close, I think I shall just stop this entry here it is since I have seemed to write a bit of what I wanted.
Sunday, September 06, 2009
►I'll Stick Around And See How Bad It Gets; I'll Settle Down And Deal With Old Regrets◄
She stared at the paper, emotions and events swirling through her mind. There was nothing except silence pulsing throughout the house and she broke it with fingers vigorously pressing at the keyboard. None of it was supposed to occur, but it couldn’t be stopped. They had said that it was to be deserved, but why was the world so cruel?
So at 3:44 in the morning, what I decided to do was write a blog entry. I was craving for comments, really, since they make my day but I found that there’s no point to care anymore if people don’t bother commenting. It’s really their decision and I have no right to force others or push it upon them. Along with a blog entry, I also decided to write a poem (or rather, just a gist of my thoughts) of which you’ll be reading below.
Each scar tells a story,
one of failure or of glory.
From the outside, with time, they’ll heal
But deep inside, I can still feel.
Different they are for each and every person
Prod if you may, but they’ll only worsen
Trying to be in this world good and clean
Corruption started young- at the age of thirteen.
No choice, we had, but to go through it all.
So why is it only tears that I recall?
So school is starting soon. I thought I was completely prepared for it. Mentally and emotionally, but I’m not. My resolve is breaking down. It’s starting to really break down and I don’t want it to be that way. I want to have all of it back. I want to bring myself out of that world and put myself where I really am supposed to be. I don’t want to continue to delude myself into believing all these other things. Things that should come true, but never will. I need to focus and I need to just stay there. I need to think and I need to stop. I need to just get it all out. But they’re all fake. There’s no point even really. They’re all stuck in their own little world; who has time to take care of other people’s woes and worries? If only.. If only. So close, yet so far. But as days pass by, it continues to go even more far. And now.. It seems to be almost out of my reach.
So at 3:44 in the morning, what I decided to do was write a blog entry. I was craving for comments, really, since they make my day but I found that there’s no point to care anymore if people don’t bother commenting. It’s really their decision and I have no right to force others or push it upon them. Along with a blog entry, I also decided to write a poem (or rather, just a gist of my thoughts) of which you’ll be reading below.
Each scar tells a story,
one of failure or of glory.
From the outside, with time, they’ll heal
But deep inside, I can still feel.
Different they are for each and every person
Prod if you may, but they’ll only worsen
Trying to be in this world good and clean
Corruption started young- at the age of thirteen.
No choice, we had, but to go through it all.
So why is it only tears that I recall?
So school is starting soon. I thought I was completely prepared for it. Mentally and emotionally, but I’m not. My resolve is breaking down. It’s starting to really break down and I don’t want it to be that way. I want to have all of it back. I want to bring myself out of that world and put myself where I really am supposed to be. I don’t want to continue to delude myself into believing all these other things. Things that should come true, but never will. I need to focus and I need to just stay there. I need to think and I need to stop. I need to just get it all out. But they’re all fake. There’s no point even really. They’re all stuck in their own little world; who has time to take care of other people’s woes and worries? If only.. If only. So close, yet so far. But as days pass by, it continues to go even more far. And now.. It seems to be almost out of my reach.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Just A Word Of Assurance Or Two Is All I Need- Is That Too Much To Ask For?
Sometimes, I wish I hadn’t made such a decision of coming here. I did not have a complete decision in it, of course, but I could have at least tried to prevent it. This all- it’s eating me up inside. Decisions, lies and betrayal. How much more can it go on- I keep thinking and wondering about that and yet, I never get a reply back.
However, I got a reply back today. Just one small one and it made my heart sink because if I hadn’t supported that decision maybe things would have been better- just maybe. I wanted to let go- just end it all because it seemed to be so simple but I felt so guilty and bad saying that. I felt hurt thinking something like that and almost empty because it’s a part of my life and I can’t just leave it like that. It’s impossible so I shall hang on to my hope. I shall keep trusting in God and just having faith that things will be okay in the end. And I’m sure it will. It’s just a matter of trust and patience.
A combination of being frustrated confused, irritated- it’s no fun, I can guarantee you that. Granted, I’m a strong person so I know I’ll survive through it all. I will do my best and I will try to and I know that I can do it. What about him though? He’s alone and it’s so hard to reach at the place where he is. Trying to pick up the broken pieces, trying to glue it back together.. And only having the same thing happen the next day. Tell me, how much longer can this go on? But I know that no matter how many times I keep asking and repeating it, I won’t get an answer. Not yet.
Instead of saying that you’re fine and instead of just being so unclear and making me feel so distant from you, why didn’t you tell me the truth? I found out the answer, I really did. You trusted me- you really did love me. And you still do. You were trying to protect me- us. You’re not superman and I’m not naïve. I know this world and I know how things are. I wish- oh, I wish things could be how they were supposed to because you don’t deserve something like this. You really don’t.
I’m an open person- a person who lets free. A person who’s a small enigma, but if she wants to give in, she will. A candid person who can be hated and liked and who wants to just help others. That isn’t a sin, right? Maybe there’s just no place- no place in this corrupted world. But no. I cannot be like that other person. The one next to you being so diplomatic or two-faced, I cannot.
I’m not foolish, I can promise you that. I’m trying, I really am and I’m just hoping and wishing things would work out.. If I get stuck in the past and keep regretting things, nothing will happen. All I can keep doing is thinking about you and praying. If I do that, I’m sure everything will be okay. And things will be okay because God is with us. And he's guiding the way for us. He'll do what's best for us- he definetely will.
However, I got a reply back today. Just one small one and it made my heart sink because if I hadn’t supported that decision maybe things would have been better- just maybe. I wanted to let go- just end it all because it seemed to be so simple but I felt so guilty and bad saying that. I felt hurt thinking something like that and almost empty because it’s a part of my life and I can’t just leave it like that. It’s impossible so I shall hang on to my hope. I shall keep trusting in God and just having faith that things will be okay in the end. And I’m sure it will. It’s just a matter of trust and patience.
A combination of being frustrated confused, irritated- it’s no fun, I can guarantee you that. Granted, I’m a strong person so I know I’ll survive through it all. I will do my best and I will try to and I know that I can do it. What about him though? He’s alone and it’s so hard to reach at the place where he is. Trying to pick up the broken pieces, trying to glue it back together.. And only having the same thing happen the next day. Tell me, how much longer can this go on? But I know that no matter how many times I keep asking and repeating it, I won’t get an answer. Not yet.
Instead of saying that you’re fine and instead of just being so unclear and making me feel so distant from you, why didn’t you tell me the truth? I found out the answer, I really did. You trusted me- you really did love me. And you still do. You were trying to protect me- us. You’re not superman and I’m not naïve. I know this world and I know how things are. I wish- oh, I wish things could be how they were supposed to because you don’t deserve something like this. You really don’t.
I’m an open person- a person who lets free. A person who’s a small enigma, but if she wants to give in, she will. A candid person who can be hated and liked and who wants to just help others. That isn’t a sin, right? Maybe there’s just no place- no place in this corrupted world. But no. I cannot be like that other person. The one next to you being so diplomatic or two-faced, I cannot.
I’m not foolish, I can promise you that. I’m trying, I really am and I’m just hoping and wishing things would work out.. If I get stuck in the past and keep regretting things, nothing will happen. All I can keep doing is thinking about you and praying. If I do that, I’m sure everything will be okay. And things will be okay because God is with us. And he's guiding the way for us. He'll do what's best for us- he definetely will.
Following Up Of the Past, Consequences and Such
I’m thankful- I’m extremely thankful to the Lord for my IGCSE results. Granted, I wish I could have done better, but I’m satisfied with my results, I really am. It feels like all that I struggled through was actually worth it because I do feel like- for once- when I tried, I actually got the worthy results back. Usually, it’s such that I try and try and yet nothing comes out of it- at least not ever since I’ve switched schools. Oh, gosh, though, but this time I got the results I think I deserved- the results that I actually studied for. Now, please, from my words don’t assume that I got overly brilliant grades because I didn’t. I got grades that I felt were satisfactory for me and I believe that’s enough. And, really, don’t think I’ll actually be mentioning my grades here because, if you know me, you’d know that I’m the type of person who isn’t too fond of disclosing my grades to another.
[This mainly refers to grade 10 and 11-- and the present]
Whenever I see people in academic brilliance, I feel happy for them, and yet , internally, I feel a bit disappointed because I wonder why I haven’t been able to get the same. And don’t think that I didn’t used to try. I used to sometimes blame others- the teacher mainly- saying that they weren’t good enough because, honestly, they weren’t. As I continued to say that, though, it seemed to be like nothing but an excuse so I knew that I had to do it by myself. And that’s what I did- I worked hard and tried; I kept trying- and yet things didn’t work out. I wanted- and I want- to do everything in my power to avoid failure because that was something that I simply couldn’t afford. Towards the end of grade 10 and the beginning of grade 11, I felt really down because it seemed like no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t succeed because my grades weren’t rising. They were dropping from A’s to B’s, C’s and D’s and that was something I wasn’t used to at all. It was hard to imagine me- a straight A and B student getting her first D on her report card. It was frustrating; absolutely frustrating. Not because it was on my report card- because I had been trying and yet my results were low.
Consequently, my expectations for my board exam results were extremely low- B’s and C’s but god was really merciful and he didn’t give me even one C, of which I really am thankful for. As I mentioned before, I didn’t get /great/ or /excellent/ grades- I know plenty of people who got better grades than me, but it’s alright because I’m satisfied with what I got. I just need to apply for the schools and see where I can get in for AS levels now. And hopefully, I’ll get in the school I wish to attend.
Also, I would highly appreciate it if I got comments as they boost me up to write even further. However, if you don't feel like commenting, it is also alright of course x]
[This mainly refers to grade 10 and 11-- and the present]
Whenever I see people in academic brilliance, I feel happy for them, and yet , internally, I feel a bit disappointed because I wonder why I haven’t been able to get the same. And don’t think that I didn’t used to try. I used to sometimes blame others- the teacher mainly- saying that they weren’t good enough because, honestly, they weren’t. As I continued to say that, though, it seemed to be like nothing but an excuse so I knew that I had to do it by myself. And that’s what I did- I worked hard and tried; I kept trying- and yet things didn’t work out. I wanted- and I want- to do everything in my power to avoid failure because that was something that I simply couldn’t afford. Towards the end of grade 10 and the beginning of grade 11, I felt really down because it seemed like no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t succeed because my grades weren’t rising. They were dropping from A’s to B’s, C’s and D’s and that was something I wasn’t used to at all. It was hard to imagine me- a straight A and B student getting her first D on her report card. It was frustrating; absolutely frustrating. Not because it was on my report card- because I had been trying and yet my results were low.
Consequently, my expectations for my board exam results were extremely low- B’s and C’s but god was really merciful and he didn’t give me even one C, of which I really am thankful for. As I mentioned before, I didn’t get /great/ or /excellent/ grades- I know plenty of people who got better grades than me, but it’s alright because I’m satisfied with what I got. I just need to apply for the schools and see where I can get in for AS levels now. And hopefully, I’ll get in the school I wish to attend.
Also, I would highly appreciate it if I got comments as they boost me up to write even further. However, if you don't feel like commenting, it is also alright of course x]
Friday, July 31, 2009
•|°|• Predictable storylines, Garish Makeup and Lots Of Scheming •|°|•
My superb friend, Arfa, did not only succeed in making me feel guilty but also in urging me on to blog. I do realize that I haven’t blogged in about three weeks and I apologize for that. What can I do though? Time is ticking and not stopping for anyone, whether it be you or me.
Insane plots, bright makeup, scheming in-laws, coy daughter-in-laws and children who are too big for their boots—does it sound familiar to you? Yes, it is the basic and common features of Indian soap operas.
Many people, mainly woman, are hooked onto these soaps. They are far from reality and a great escape route for the people as it can take them into the fantasy world where they can forget their worries for a few moments.
Then comes the downfall- many become obsessed with these serials, forgetting that it’s a make-believe world. And also, some get inspiration from it. Not the inspiration that leads you to do something good either. It might influence one in a bad way bringing them to be suspicious to anyone who does anything good without any hidden motives.
They have a ridiculous plotline—not to mention an extremely predictable one and they show violence, physical intimacy that drags on and diminishing family values.
In my opinion, it’s rather sad actually because I know quite a few people who are hooked onto such shows and it’s just pathetic. Don’t get me wrong; I do respect their interests and such but when you know exactly what’s going to happen during the next 6 episodes, why would you ignore your child for those days, sit in front of the television and watch those very episodes from Monday to Saturday? Perhaps someone could explain it to me because I seriously don’t understand it.
Now don’t get me wrong; it’s not like I haven’t watched it before. I refused and used to loathe them- the Indian soap opera. The word ‘used’ is wrong since I still do still date, but my mother convinced me into watching a few of them. I used to dread the clock turning its’ big and small needle to the 6 because I knew as soon as it reached 6:30, it would be ‘drama time’ and I definitely wasn’t fond of it. However, to accompany my mother, I used to sit there and watch the characters on the television commenting on how silly their actions were and what was going to happen next and guess what—it did happen.
Till date, even if I do watch it, it’s simply to accompany someone else since it makes them happy. How could I give up a chance to making someone happy? Ah, the downfall of being me, but that’s beside the point. Now I’ve made myself clear to my mother and my father telling them that I cannot tolerate any more cheesy scenes or any more of the character’s nonsense so I have stopped—absolutely stopped watching these Indian soap operas.
Insane plots, bright makeup, scheming in-laws, coy daughter-in-laws and children who are too big for their boots—does it sound familiar to you? Yes, it is the basic and common features of Indian soap operas.
Many people, mainly woman, are hooked onto these soaps. They are far from reality and a great escape route for the people as it can take them into the fantasy world where they can forget their worries for a few moments.
Then comes the downfall- many become obsessed with these serials, forgetting that it’s a make-believe world. And also, some get inspiration from it. Not the inspiration that leads you to do something good either. It might influence one in a bad way bringing them to be suspicious to anyone who does anything good without any hidden motives.
They have a ridiculous plotline—not to mention an extremely predictable one and they show violence, physical intimacy that drags on and diminishing family values.
In my opinion, it’s rather sad actually because I know quite a few people who are hooked onto such shows and it’s just pathetic. Don’t get me wrong; I do respect their interests and such but when you know exactly what’s going to happen during the next 6 episodes, why would you ignore your child for those days, sit in front of the television and watch those very episodes from Monday to Saturday? Perhaps someone could explain it to me because I seriously don’t understand it.
Now don’t get me wrong; it’s not like I haven’t watched it before. I refused and used to loathe them- the Indian soap opera. The word ‘used’ is wrong since I still do still date, but my mother convinced me into watching a few of them. I used to dread the clock turning its’ big and small needle to the 6 because I knew as soon as it reached 6:30, it would be ‘drama time’ and I definitely wasn’t fond of it. However, to accompany my mother, I used to sit there and watch the characters on the television commenting on how silly their actions were and what was going to happen next and guess what—it did happen.
Till date, even if I do watch it, it’s simply to accompany someone else since it makes them happy. How could I give up a chance to making someone happy? Ah, the downfall of being me, but that’s beside the point. Now I’ve made myself clear to my mother and my father telling them that I cannot tolerate any more cheesy scenes or any more of the character’s nonsense so I have stopped—absolutely stopped watching these Indian soap operas.
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