Cybermusings

Enjoying the ride........

2011-05-15T03:30:00.000-07:00

I realized some time ago that I was spending a good part of my life in chasing the ghosts of the past. The journey ahead can never be worthwhile if you always keep looking over your shoulder and staring at the wall posts of the past; for that is what exactly they are - stationary wall posts - unwilling and often ill-equipped to move along with you. Life isn't about a single milestone or a single wall post - it is a vibrant collage of beautiful images that make up your life. Sure some images are prominent and life-like, whilst others are hazy recollections of moments best forgotten, but none of them are significant enough to define your life or your existence. People you thought would be a part of your happy ending, often walk away for reasons best known them. People you thought would see you through your lowest lows, sometimes melt away in the face of a tough challenge. You could possibly hate them or hate yourself to rationalize and sometimes intellectually justify the tragic course of events. However, I believe the best way to deal with anger, disappointment and pain is not to throw it in someone else's face or mercilessly crucify yourself, but to let it go; the toughest and ironically the easiest way to deal with it begins with forgiving and embracing yourself. Not even the wisest souls get to live their lives retrospectively; so why must we in our self-deprecating thoughts? Life isn't about 'what Ifs'.

The chosen few

2011-04-11T00:52:00.000-07:00

Have you ever gone through a series of bad experiences - unfulfilling relationships - where you've always given more and got very little back in return; which often feel like feeding the bottomless pit of a black hole; disillusioning jobs - where you oscillate between feeling invisible and feeling worthless; fractured relations - where you're always made to feel like a permanent disappointment? Chances are that either you are a sucker for suffering and feed off it or you're wallowing in the deep end of a pool called self-pity. If you're unfortunate enough not to fall into either of the two buckets - then you belong to a celebrated club of a chosen few. The chosen few are oft-tested by destiny because unlike the commoners, they are made of sterner stuff. The chosen few can always weather more storms and always emerge stronger; doesn't matter how much they crib, complain and shed a few tears along the way - the chosen few are human too after all. So the next time you feel resentful about the fat bonus your colleague took home, or the kind boyfriend that your friend has - don't question their deserving quotient. Just remember one thing - people who are often short-changed by destiny are the ones loved by her the most. There is a reason that she wants you to pick up the pebbles along the way, while the others gloat in the discovery of their "gems". There is a reason why they had it easy and you didn't! In the end people don't necessarily get what they deserve, they get what they had the courage and conviction to wait around for....

Hope floats!

2011-04-11T00:43:00.000-07:00

There are many people you encounter in life who make you feel that life's not worth living after all...however, for every such person there are atleast two who make you believe that there is sunshine back again :)

Dear Diary….

2010-11-02T04:57:00.000-07:00

7:15 am – Alarm goes off...No matter how many times I shuffle the tunes, every sound seems sharp and intrusive early in the morning

7:30 – Stumble out of bed and eat my thyroid medicine….God I do hope that I get a breakthrough end of this month…I cannot imagine waking up to a bottle of Thyronorm on my bedside table every single morning

8:00 – Running late for work and hence I need to stuff my face with breakfast soonish…Non-descript cheela for brekker….Didn’t the hen lay any eggs today?

9:30 – Drift into office at 9:30 wondering the amount of time I waste on the streets of Bangalore, weaving past traffic and hurling abuses at errant drivers (as K would say – son of a b****)

10:30 – Sneak into my J’s shared calendar and block an hour of one-on-one meeting time for my mid-year review. Chuckle to myself at my little victory. I hope J knows that he has unwittingly given me access to his calendar…! My emails are always followed by a little trip down that hallway to “follow-up” if he has read my emails. He usually gives me a warm look of skepticism (almost to say – what does this girl want now!)...Today he tries to mock-wrestle with his door, pushing up against it so that he can block my way! Needless to say the staff is really amused by his little act!

1:00 – Lunch is always a highlight of my day – busy or not. Meals and food according to me are to be celebrated – It’s never a chore (and I guess it shows). Today the caterer has got some delightful rajma-chawal and a cabbage salad…ummm didn’t the doctor tell me to steer clear of that? I brush that thought aside, so that later I can revisit it and blame it on an innocent case of oversight J I enjoy the lunch conversations with my colleagues, at least the bits that don’t get drowned by the rumbling sounds in my stomach…!

3:30 – Finally have a meeting with J regarding my goals and the conversation veers towards the Bollywood starlets flocking him at the Art of Chilling Party in Mumbai (I hope he is going with this somewhere…!) He blames it on his devastating good looks, and I feel that I am certainly not his beholder ;-) Goals get discussed and thrashed out; for the lack of any suitable yardsticks to measure my performance, we decide not to measure it altogether! I have a strong feeling that J has mentally check-marked the box next to a rating of 6 (a superlative performer, who far outperforms expectations)….I blame it on a combination of my devastating good looks and intellect J

4:30 – Set the new goals, and bounce off the email to J, hoping for a revert soon so that I can work towards an untainted rating of 6 ;-) Walking down the hallway, he darts a quick look in my direction and I catch his eye; I am certain he curses himself for making eye-contact, which means more persistent pestering (I am certain he wishes he walked with blinkers on!)

5:30 – It’s time to head to the gym. The first 10 minutes are a punishment, and I really need to drag my heals…However, once I am in the flow it seems all lovely and rhythmic

A letter buried in my inbox.....

2010-11-02T04:27:00.000-07:00

Was just talking about Bombay to my friends, chattering away about places and food and people and experiences, when I suddenly realized that there was one common element to my experiences - my lens, that was you. You romanticized everything - the traffic snares, the local trains, the Bombay rains, the street food, the soaring rents, the house help woes, the lack of space just to name a few. I loved my borrowed lens - every color seemed brighter and sharper than before. For the first time, I felt tempted to discard my 'so what' attitude. You made me believe that life is worth embracing in all its glory - the good, the bad and the ugly.

2010-09-29T03:18:00.000-07:00

That healing touch

Sometimes in life you come across people who touch your lives in ways which you could have never imagined. It might sound silly and surreal, but I believe that these people are God’s angels. This post is an ode to one such person who touched my life – N. When N and I met, my spirit was broken, my confidence shattered and my faith in people all shaken. I was a self-loathing, frail image of my former confident self whose favorite past time was sulking and favorite adventure modules in self-pity. I was sinking; getting sucked into a vortex of negativity, when he reached out for my hand and yanked me right out of it.

All these years, when I had everything in life that could be imagined by “conventional yardsticks”, the one thing which was always missing – that crucial piece from a jigsaw puzzle – was acceptance. N accepted me with his arms flung wide open – never questioning, never doubtful. He helped me appreciate all the colors from the spectrum (including the daunting shades of grey); he taught me the art of loving others and myself. Most importantly he taught me the meaning of unconditional love and acceptance – beyond the realms of philosophy. My life was never the same. He came along and painted my life a bright sunny yellow with his magical brushstrokes.

Unfortunately, due to the trappings of a bitch called practicality, N is not a part of my life anymore. For the sake of our own sanity, I can’t reach out to him and tell him, how much I prize him and value him; how much I respect him and adore him; and most importantly how much I am grateful to him. About a year and a half back he resuscitated me back to life and gave me happiness that I had never seen before. So for all these things and more N, I would like to say THANK YOU. The words in this post are not enough to measure the depths of gratitude in my heart.

Thought for the day

2009-11-07T23:27:00.000-08:00

"People who have the capacity to weather many storms are the ones who are oft-tested by destiny"

Enlightenment!

2009-10-27T06:52:00.000-07:00

Enlightenment is best, when it is shared.....even when it is with the invisible or non-existent reader....

Pardon me for these incessant ramblings, but I am reluctant to let go, especially since I have found my voice after a very long time :) Hence I take the liberty to share my "enlightenment"

Time travelling......

2009-10-27T05:49:00.000-07:00

I was reading "Eat, Pray, Love" and stumbled upon these lines, which made me travel back in time.

"David's sudden emotional back-stepping probably would've been a catastrophe for me even under the best of circumstances, given that I am the planet's most affectionate life-form (something like a cross between a golden retriever and a barnacle), but this was my very worst of circumstances. I was more despondent and dependent, needing more care than an armful of premature infant of triplets. His withdrawal only made me more needy, and my neediness only advanced his withdrawals..."

Sometimes in life, when you go through bereavement/loss/misery/emotional upheaval, it almost gives you a sense of misplaced superiority; emotionally you isolate yourself from the so-called "lesser morals", blindly believing that they haven't experienced your quantum of pain. After all my emotional loss is more than your job woes, right?

Reading these lines was not only cathartic by finding resonance in someone's pain, but also greatly humbling; It taught me that on many occasions we attach a lot of importance to our own misery, by quickly discounting someone's pain. This not only leads us to revel and wallow more in self-pity, but also isolates us from many others, in whose experiences we might find our own answers.

Men are from Mars and women.....well we're still trying to figure that one out!

2009-10-27T05:43:00.000-07:00

Women are silly creatures (a good amount of offense meant!)....they look for a reason/a pattern in everything....even though most of their behavior can never be explained with good reason...I might offend my fellow Venetians with this insight, but it's always better to be self-deprecating and accept it graciously, than be slapped on that face with facts :)

Free falling in love

2008-08-12T11:58:00.001-07:00

Falling in love is like free falling....you might be consumed by fear, but unless you allow yourself the privilege of that fear, you can never experience the magic of love

Dwindling numbers and random thoughts.....

2007-08-07T06:31:00.001-07:00

The dwindling numbers on my blog's site-o-meter, suggest some readers taking flight to greener pastures (which in this case happen to be regularly updated blogs!). Self-effacing as it may sound - but currently my blog has very few patrons, and I would do nothing to shoo them away; least of all because of my lazy spirit.

However folks, there are things to do, targets to achieve, mountain summits to climb, and deadlines to meet. More importantly, there are cupboards to clean, house bugs to fog, cobwebs to vacuum, and flies to whisk...

So here is an update of my very busy schedule

TOEFL: My TOEFL exam(Test of English as a Foreign Language) is scheduled for August 11. The marathon test runs into an agonizing 4 hours. After all these years of perfecting my English pronunciation skills, and making sure that "Pomeranian" is not pronounced as "pomerian", I am still tagged as a non-native speaker. Dhobi ka kutta na khar ka na ghat ka. English for most of us, is not a foreign or borrowed language anymore. It's pervaded all aspects of our existence, even creeping into our thought process. I even blog in English... and considering that I haven't received any brickbats for my "rudimentary" language skills, I would like to believe that I should be rewarded an honorary score. So now I need the support of the blogging brethren, in getting a TOEFL waiver!
Turkey: Went to Turkey for a holiday. Shelled out £60 per day for a hotel stay where the bed croaked at night in protest (no I do not weigh 300 pounds!), the tap leaked, the toilet seat wobbled, the air conditioner droned and the electric socket hissed nastily, at my mobile adapter. Should have known better when I booked into a "Hotel Poem", and stayed a room, which was ironically called "Out of Tune". Save for the mishaps and misfortune on this front, the trip was fanatabulous! Had a lot of fun, took a lot of pictures, and marveled at the historical relics. Last but not the least, developed a new found respect for the Sultan of Turkey, who in his life span of 55 years, built a harem for his 200 companions, spent "quality" time with each one of them, and fathered 112 children as an afterthought!
Enrolled for a photography course....For I realised that just like you can't drive a Ferrari 575M Maranello, with the driving skills of a Ambassador Mark IV, you can't use a digital SLR camera, with the skills of a pinhole camera....

Spiderman returns!

2007-08-02T00:12:00.000-07:00

This is hilarious....

http://makkadman.com/

Few of my favourite quotes...

2007-07-23T03:28:00.000-07:00

"Life is like a box of choclates. You never know what you get" (Courtesy : adorable Tom Hanks in Forrest Gump)

"True friends are like diamonds, precious and rare, while false friends are like autumn leaves found everywhere" (Courtesy : "thought for the day, scribbled in a juvenile handwriting on the blackboard, for the Moral Science class, circa 1998)

"A man's face is his autobiagraphy. A woman's face is her work of fiction" (Masterstroke Courtesy : Oscar Wilde. Political correctness can go out of the window, but I agree whole-heartedly with this one!)

"The elevator to success might be out of order, but the stairs are always open" (doodled in S's mathematics notebook)

Feminism

2007-07-21T00:28:00.000-07:00

While indulging in some compulsive remote-control politics, we chanced upon “We the people” on NDTV. The topic of discussion was “Does India need feminism?”. ‘A’ and me decided to settle for it, albeit a bit consciously and uncomfortably. After all, it’s not the best idea to watch gender-centric debates, especially when opinions firmly reside in opposite camps. However, we had our own reasons to watch the programme. 'A' wanted to watch it for his thinly veiled reasons (which male would miss a chance to sneer and scoff at those “rabble-rousing” feminists....they’re responsible for half the strife in the male universe after all!)...I wanted to watch it for reasons aplenty – 1) finally some intellectual stimulation on television; after Ekta Kapoor’s remorseless onslaught of mind numbing “krap”, my mind deserved a cerebral excursion (far from the scheming saas, sycophant sasur, saccharine bahu and spineless pati) 2) would help me wean off Friends for a while (after a run, re-run and a run of the re-run, my therapist suggested some desperate measures might be needed to get over the addiction!) 3) really want to see what “thorny” issues does Shefali Jariwala (of the Kaanta Laga fame ) wants to discuss on the panel 4) should be the real fun to see ‘A’s embarrassed face when feminists start criticizing the nincompoop men!

The debate which meandered from the abstruse (definition of feminism?) to the banal (women’s reservation bill), threw a couple of great insights

• Why does Indian television churn out such disturbing and convoluted images of women? Progressive women (of boardroom material), are scheming, frustrated and utterly lonely. Their happier counterparts are sadly stuck in the dark ages. Their life revolves around mummyji, papaji and "aji sunte ho". The characters come custom made in black or white. Reason - Since when does the "discerning" audience need shades of grey? So while the "white" characters stay squeaky clean, even after character assassinations by evil forces, the "black" ones stay ugly, even after haloed cleansing rituals are performed on them!! Wow....wish real life was that simple...and we were not as complex and layered as these simplistic buffoons!

• Why do parents want their daughters to morph into modern day parvatis (not the Hindu goddess silly, but the “model” daughter-in-law from the dreary soap) on the eve of D-day? I couldn’t agree more with this argument – Always indulged with giddying doses of love, pampering and affection, I was never led to believe that I lived in a world ridden with gender biases.....er....till the suitors came along.....Things around me started changing fast.....attitudes changed (“we don’t live in an equal world sweetheart”)....magically, even beliefs changed (“no such thing as companionship honey, hamare yahaan marriage is about compromises....about sacrifices)....pyaar vyaar can go out of the window....and compatibility – “woh kya cheez hoti hai?”.....I was made to feel guilty for placing importance on some ludicrous intangibles; something which could not be measured by well-respected yardsticks.....The whole process left me confused, isolated and terribly disoriented....like a sapling uprooted from its familiar surroundings and re-planted in an inhospitable terrain....So anyways, this introspection leads me back to the burning question – “why do parents want their daughters to morph into modern day parvatis?”.....and is this even possible, within the relevant context of modern urban sensibilities?......I certainly couldn’t achieve it, not after all these years of mental conditioning, for I mistook the token gestures of gender equality as actual “empowerment”.

• Why do some women persist with their crab mentality, pulling their progressive counterparts to the bottom of the heap? This is something which has bothered me for a long time. However, Shabana Azmi made a very valid statement, which stayed with me for a long time. She stated that we should not use the crutches of such sweeping statements....instead understand the reasons which run deeper....according to her the patriarchal system, a gender-based dysfunctional system, has been so deeply-ingrained into the Indian psyche, that it is impossible for the disempowered women to distance themselves from it....and hence it becomes difficult for such women to empower the next generation....so true and yet so tragic....

Musings for the day....

2007-07-05T00:36:00.000-07:00

Why do people perpetuate their misery? Are they too scared to explore the unknown, stepping outside their zone of familiarity?

Nasally Yours

2007-07-02T03:10:00.000-07:00

In an industry where genuine talent finds it hard to stay afloat, a nasally endowed and artistically challenged singer is driving many out of business. Contemporaries, unceremoniously nudged out of the limelight, are busy licking their wounds. Critics and fortune-tellers, who predicted a humbling downfall, are scratching their heads in wonderment. Talent brokers and music patrons have “gone to the mattresses”. All this while the “aam junta” and ear specialists are going delirious with delight, for reasons best known to them.

So what explains the phenomenon that is Himesh Reshammiya? I reckon it is the immense self-belief and brazen self-confidence. I also reckon that this confidence and self-assuredness is here to stay.

So bring out the cotton swabs guys, before my ears succumb to some mysterious musical infection!

I believe.........

2007-07-01T04:57:00.000-07:00

To someone observing from a distance, my life seemed picture perfect. Physical and material comforts and a cushioned existence in a joint-family set up. However my life wasn't a bed of roses. From the beginning I knew I was different. I had a propensity to rebel against the dictates of prescribed social behavior, and a daring ability to question the "rules". While my fellow mates from Venus were busy fitting the their gender roles to perfection, I stubbornly rejected the stereotypes. Survival of a fiery and independent minded female in a rigid patriarchal set-up was extremely tough. Till much later, I never knew the direction in which I wanted to steer my life. However, I did know that I would use the rudder of conviction to keep me sailing. I also knew that I would never relinquish or surrender my decision making powers to someone else. For me that seemed almost inconceivable.

Even today, some label me as an anti-thesis of homegrown values...but this doesn't faze me. To me, I am more desi than Daalda Vanaspati Ghee. However, with the earthy desiness is bundled a strong sense of independence.

Too bad if others can't digest it!!!

Thinking of you dad, on father's day

2007-06-17T06:26:00.000-07:00

As a child my father's diabolical personality always fascinated me.

His famous temper threatened to bury everyone in its fury. The slightest facial manifestation of a temper trouble - a menacing nerve twitching with raw emotion, angry furrows, and pursed lips, made me and my sister run for cover. My mother was also insightful enough not to ruffle his feathers when he appeared "negatively charged".

However, his temper was not the only trait which defined his personality.

His sense of humor deliciously peppered with measured doses of cynicism, wit, sarcasm and raciness, could knock out even the most bland and straight faced person.

Just yesterday, after waking up from his mid-afternoon siesta he hatched a very productive plan of creating a "unique" Orkut profile for my mother. The shrill enthusiam in his voice reeked of treacherous intentions. Once I gave an appreciative nod of a person "in the know", Dad set about his business.

The "Personal" page of my mother's faceless profile had the following details punched in, much to every pervert scrapper's delight...

Ideal Match - Rajkumar (with all due respect to the deceased star - Maa what were you thinking???)

First thing you notice about me - My five feet nothing frame

Build - A few extra pounds (now my mother is not exactly a "yummy mummy", know what I mean...a few extra pounds is a very modest comment....this was added after some evil chuckles and Hi-5's)

Body Art - Strategically placed tattoo (Well I love my mum like the rest of her brood....I swear I do...but honestly all tattoo parlours would shut shop if she ever decides to get a tattoo ....and a strategically placed one at that!!!)

My idea of a perfect first date - Too late in the day

Turn Ons - tattoos (not again!!), candlelight and wealth (makes my mother sound like a gold digger)

Passions - Nagging my husband and children (way to go Papa, you finally did it!)

Sports - The only one's I've played is Chiti Dhap and Kho Kho (now hide-n-seek on my profile doesn't sound as bad...now does it???)

Living - with partner, friends visit often, party every night (The last time my parent's partied was when my sister finally passed high school with "respectable" marks, a decade ago!)

Good for gags....Isn't it?

Internal Upheaval

2007-06-13T05:12:00.000-07:00

Hassled me: Why 710? Why dear Lord? Why couldn't I break into the elite 750+ club?

Somewhat Unflappable me: Take a deep breadth...Clear your mind and let the rational thoughts prevail...

Rational Thought 1 : Even though you didn't break previous records (read 800!!!) held by some imaginary moderator on your study forum, 710 is a handsome score which fits well in the larger scheme of things

Hassled me (interrupting) : but 710 does not commensurate with my efforts and expectations (more importantly the latter, rather than the former!).

Somewhat unflappable me (cooing pacifyingly): Honey...the score is pretty much in line with your "originally hatched" expectations (remember when you were all starry eyed about breaking the 700 barrier!!)...They might however not be in line with your revised expectations...Remember expectations are a function of thoughts, peer-generated benchmarks (real and imaginary) and past laurels ...which unfortunately renders them dynamic.....which effectively means that you might have felt cheated with a score of 800, in a deliriously optimistic moment!!!!

Hassled me (refusing to let go): But I still don't feel satisfied with the outcome...

Somewhat unflappable me: Satisfaction like optimism is a practised art and not an inborn trait...you need to cultivate these feelings consciously

Hassled me: But doesn't an overdose of optimism breed complacence?

Somewhat (un)flappable me: Being optimistic does not mean that you should allow complacence to feast on your hard-working spirit...It means breathing realism into your expectations, staying miles away from self-deprecation and most importantly learning to let-go.....Put in your best efforts, and clip the umbilical cord, detaching yourself from the pain/pleasure of your performance....Gloating over your success for too long, steals your focus...Likewise obsessing with failure robs you of your confidence....So in the end you see it's all about the power of balance!!!

Of experiments and more...

2007-05-07T03:37:00.001-07:00

Sneaked into a theatre to catch Spidey in action; came out wondering - Why in the name of God, do people experiment with well-established success formulas ?

Just when you turn to the comforting familiarity of your friendly neighborhood Spiderman, he gets a bad-boy makeover!!! Spiderman flirting with his darker side??? He tousles his hair, flirts with unknown strangers, swaggers on the street, and worse still, wears a Gothic grey bodysuit (bumming hard guys!)....I think to myself - why do these rookie directors meddle with the "formula"....Aren't their enough baddies in the world?...Poor Tobey McGuire....He was so convincing as the earnest-looking Peter Parker.... And now he is visibly outside his comfort zone as the menacing Spiderman

The seeds of this “radical” change (read : experimentation ) were sown by none other than Her Majesty’s favorite Secret Service Agent – James Bond. When Bond came out of a long and painful sabbatical (putting casting wars and remuneration woes firmly behind him), I was thrilled to bits. As a die-hard patron of Ian Fleming's classic franchise, I have watched all James Bond movies several times over; So much so that I had learnt to lip-sync the dialogues long before I learnt to tie my shoelaces!!

However, Casino Royale left me wishing that the character was given a dignified burial right after Die Another Day. Even though Casino Royale won the hearts of the most disparaging of critics, and broke all box-office records, somewhere it jabbed hard at my loyal Bond sentiments. Brand name Bond was built around adjectives such as suave, sophisticated, smooth, guarded and invincible ; not around adjectives such as emotional, gullible, reckless and vulnerable. After years of preserving his unflappable tough-guy image, which was deliciously peppered with his philandering ways, Bond finally succumbed to the pupperty of his creators; Overnight Bond became a lovesick ninny!!

Chide me for seeking solace in familiarity, but some character quirks and traits, over-time become the defining soul of any character. And pardon me for saying this - but what's a character without it's soul? What's Chandler Bing without his sardonic sense of humor or Monica Gellar without her obsessive cleaning disorder? Likewise what's Indiana Jones without his swashbuckling ways, or Spiderman without his endearing boy-next-door image? And what's Bond without his ability to score with the ladies?

Voices

2007-04-23T03:22:00.001-07:00

Have you sometimes wondered why silence can be deafening? I have been probing for this answer in the deepest recess of my mind for the past few days, and today is just one of them.

It's one of those days at work (a Mundane Monday to be precise), when the afternoon laze has descended upon us, and the only sound which threatens to break the silence is the mindless droning of the keyboard...The isolated voice in my head, freshly hatched from the idle hour, turns into an incoherent murmuring...Fratured thoughts provide more ammunition to the murmurings which turn into loud whispers..Once these receive the acknowledgement of the wandering mind, they gain enough momemtum to degenerate into mindless cacophony.....By now the jangle in my head is loud enough to be heard by my workstation neighbour...half-embarrassed and half-amused, I shoot a furtive glance in his direction to make sure that he didn't hear it, or even if he did, at least masked it with indifference.....

That's when the elusive answer strikes me, like the obvious waiting to be discovered; silence is deafening when the turbulence inside snowballs to such an incredible extent, that it threatens to break into the sanctuary of the surrounding calm

Destination GMAT!

2007-04-18T23:07:00.000-07:00

It's the 18th of April, 2007. With a May 17th date for the GMAT exam, my adrenalin levels are at an all-time high.

Waiting evokes silly sentiments in different people. However, I am savoring every moment of this process, a tad bit more than my liking. For my sake, I sincerely hope that complacency hasn't crept in. Ironically, the mock tests haven't given me much reason to be laid-back. Even though accuracy is at an all-time high (just benchmarking me against me here!), time management is floundering. GMAT mock tests have been nothing short of shock-therapy. With each successive test has come a rude awakening; a realization that I might not be able to break into the elite, 700+ club.

Had I been a school-going teenager, these "mock challenges" would have demoralized me to an appalling extent. No more. It's not that I have transformed into an unflappable individual, unmoved by failings and challenges; in fact far from it. Neither have the stakes become lesser. It's just that I have been able to cultivate, albeit slowly, the rational seeds of detachment. Wish I can sincerely walk the tightrope between "rational detachment" and "measured involvement".

I have been wading through the stages of preparation comfortably over the past couple of weeks. Although I must confess that I hate being checkmated by SC (Sentence Correction for the uninitiated). They stump me. However, this too shall pass. I feel I am putting an honest effort. And in the end that does pay off...doesn't it?

Time alone will tell...