How to almost 2017

Dear Upa,

                  It's almost 2017. 

And by that I mean it literally is almost 2017, because there are about 36 minutes left of the year. 

I guess I couldn't end the year without saying something. 

I'm at dinner right now, literally in the middle of family in a fancy restaurant and am probably being really rude by typing away on my phone. 

It reminds me of when Yoongs dropped his mixtape in the middle of August when I was out for dinner and I had to excuse myself to the bathroom so that I could watch the mv. 

2016 was the year BTS shined the most, the year they won the daesang.

I don't think I can ever express how much they mean to me in words, or everything they've done for me. I'm a really different person because of them and I'm so proud of them for all they've achieved, and I'm so happy to be starting another new year with them. 2016 was the year we didn't walk alone, we had them and they had us. 

2016 was also the year my favourite people in the world came to Delhi to see me. By the way, I'm really really whipped for you too, I'm not even kidding. If I ever manage to get my Kinsey scale in place we should actually get married. 

2016 was the year I had the best birthday ever. I think birthdays are a really great concept, it's essentially being thankful for someone being born, and I'm glad that I was born.

2016 was the year I learned what it is to be happy. It's not the absence of sadness, but it's finding reasons to smile despite that. It's seeing your favourite people on screen and off, whose smile feels like the best parts of being alive. 

There are 15 minutes of 2016 left, and I'm grateful for your smile. 

Happy new year. 

Bye for now,

Aditi. 

Dear Aditi,

                  I’m writing this to you on your 18th birthday because I want you to remember what you feel right now.

In every letter or message that you read there were two things that were common- the first being how trash you are for Jin, and the second was how you’ve made people happy in one way or another.

I don’t know what this year has in store for you and I didn’t even know if you accomplished much in the past year, but now I do know that you brought happiness into someone’s life, and that’s the best thing I could ever ask of you. 

No matter what happens in the future, this was not a waste. 

If you ever feel like a burden again, which knowing you is not impossible, read those letters again to be reminded of how I feel right now, because Jin was right. 

Tears of happiness do feel warm, after all.

Stay strong and all the best, 

Aditi.

PS: 2017 AND GOOGLE STILL THINKS IM SUSPICIOUS ACTIVITY  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 

This is such a shit post lol

How to Exist

aditi (Sanskrit: अदिति)

noun

the best friend everyone wishes for 

Dear Aditi, 

   You’re pretty dope. By that I don’t mean that you are extremely pretty and also sometimes quite high, but yeah that too. I just mean you are good. I’ve never been one for words or emotions, and you know that. Of course you know that, you actually know more about me than I do. 

Have I ever mentioned just how lucky we are to have you? You are the reason we all haven’t drifted apart. I don’t know how you do it, but you binds us. Saap Ghar legit never meets unless you are around. Therefore my conclusion is that you are glue. 

This year has been pretty terrible, and I love the fact that you managed to look past that but I can’t seem to. The only thing that has made this year not want to completely kill myself is that I that I have something to look forward to, and that is spending time with you. Here is the truth, I am very whipped because of you. Even more than I am with God. And I have no regrets being whipped by you. (  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) i have sinned ) 

Now, let’s get to talking about more important things. Like your love for the colour pink. In moments I cringe at the amount you love the colour, but then I remember how much I love orange and just stay in my lane. And then I look at you in your baby pink clothes and realise that no one less makes pink look that pretty. (And I know Jin, so that is really a compliment.) 

So finally, happy birthday. Thanks for existing. Thanks for existing at the same time as me, because I really couldn't get through this cold harsh world with you (and dance.) Now that you are 18 you can buy me alcohol, so like goals. 

Love, 

Upa. 

How to Fly

fly (flī)

verb

To rise in or be carried through the air by the wind

Dear Upa,

                 Okay, aside from the fact that 2016 was like 10 minutes long, I think (contrary to what literally everyone says) it was actually a pretty good year.

I remember facing an existential crisis last year because suddenly everything around me changed. This year, though, I think the same amount changed, except that now it’s within me.

This year, I fell both more in love and in hate with myself.

It wasn’t a very pretty year, and everyone including me was practically having a meltdown (I wonder why no one else liked this year) but still, I learned so much about myself. I think I know exactly the kind of person I am now, and even though I’m not sure I love her, I think I’m finally starting to understand her, and that’s a start.

I remember worrying about getting my shit together and actually achieving something in life last year. To be honest my shit is, in fact, still the furthest thing from being ‘together’, but I know that I’m working towards it. And for now, I think it’ll suffice.

I remember being socially awkward last year. Unsurprisingly, I’m still socially awkward, but I’m not too awkward to initiate hugs anymore. I’m beginning to realise that sometimes I need to depend on other people and sometimes I’m not strong enough to handle things by myself, and even more importantly, I'm beginning to realise that that’s alright.

I remember having two new years’ resolutions last year: 1)Study hard in 12th grade; and 2)Learn Korean. 

As far as the latter goes, I didn’t really achieve it. I’m not even close to beginning to achieve it. Maybe next year? 

And the first, well, regardless of the result I did work hard. Not hard enough, but one day (hopefully soon) I’ll get there.

I remember being a little scared of being 17. I don’t know if it’s because I feel like I did grow up a lot this year or because I’m mentally an 8 year old anyway so it doesn’t matter, but in around 3 days I turn 18, and I’m not scared anymore.

2016 was so important. There’s so much left to achieve, and that excites me.

Let’s fly with our beautiful wings in 2017 as well.

Merry Christmas.

Bye for now,

Aditi.

How to Orange

Dear Aditi,

  To me, happiness at one point had become the colour orange. I just related it to being happy, but not the oblivious sort of happy  you are happy without knowing the reason. No, this happy was the sort of one you get knowing it's a scary road ahead but you are willing to face it with a smile, okay maybe in my case crib about it while doing it, but I crib about everything so that doesn't count.

But there are also other reasons to like the colour orange. Like the fruit orange. And the smell of the fruit orange. At this point almost all the products I use are orange scented. So yeah, I'm orange trash.

Now it's very rare I get sentimental with more than one line to say but do you remember the first time we had gone to Jappaloupe? The first time we had, I think we were in sixth grade and I used to a comic artist drawing LK Comics. Less worrying times, if I'm being honest. Unless we are talking about my grades, because I used to barely pass in Sanskrit. The important.

But that was the time you lost your Samsung Corby which I think had some orange colour on it. And you had to use my Samsung Corby instead for the rest of the trip, which in that 1 hour we used to get to call our parents would seem like a problem but honestly I barely spoke to them even then. Most of my calls were just letting them know I'm alive.

Then next time we went to Jappaloupe, we were still in your car and your dad was driving and it was far to early for any normal human to be awake. I think you had some Nokia and so did I. But I had a different Nokia. It was a C6, I think. And my brother owned a black one and I owned a silver one.

Anyway, the phone isn't the important part. Somewhere in conversation our favourite colour came up, and at that time I didn't have one but you did. Yours was green, somewhere from a light green to a leaf green. My tiny brain also wanted a favourite colour, and I looked out of the window to find one and saw the rising sun which made the whole sky a ahade of orange. And I thought that was beautiful and decided that that needs to be my favourite colour. (There is also the fact that Peeta Mellark really liked orange and I liked Peeta so I was like yes orange, but that's a far less emotional story.)

Now when I look back at it, I wouldn't change what that dumb kid said because right now in this moment, I really do love the colour orange.

See you in hell,
Upa.

How to Be Calm

happy

ˈhapi

adjective

feeling or showing pleasure or contentment.

Dear Upa,

                 For someone who’s exams start literally the day after tomorrow, I’m surprisingly calm. I guess it’s because I know that there was so much syllabus and such less time that no matter how much lesser I had procrastinated I would still be this screwed. And for some reason, there’s a strange, twisted sense of peace in that.

I’ve had a rough couple of days (weeks? months? idek at this point) and I thought it would affect me, but I think I made it through almost unscathed. I guess I’m just lucky. I’m not used to being this calm though, and I don’t know how long it’ll last, but I think I could get used to it.

That’s not to say I’m particularly happy. I don’t think I can be happy just yet. What is “happy”, anyway? I feel like it’s too abstract to convey in words, and that’s really weird. My goal in life is to be happy, and I’m not even sure what that is.

If happiness means being content, then I’m not happy. I’m happy that I have a goal, I’m happy that I’m working for it, and I’m happy that I know what will make me happy should I attain it. But I’ll only be truly happy when I’m satisfied with what I’ve achieved, and that’s not going to happen for some time now.

So I guess in an equally strange, twisted way, right now, I’m not stupid enough to be happy.

Bye for now,

Aditi.

How to Rice

Dear Aditi, 

   So Today I want to talk to you about rice. And no there is no deep philosophical metaphor comparing my love of rice to like fragility of the world. I wish I was that type of writer, but sadly I am not a writer. I am just a passionate rice enthusiast. 

So I was born in the rice land. That is not true, I was born in this city but my parents come from places near the rice land so that should count for something. Although, my mom was born in the same city as me but she was raised there. Anyway this is not important. This rice land is very beautiful from afar. But when you go near it, it’s still beautiful. But no, you need to go nearer. And then you will see the muddy muddy paddy fields where this beautiful thing called rice rests upon. It’s such a beautiful tale, isn’t it? Coming up from the dirty, rising from nothing, defying gravity. Be like rice. 

Rice may be white, but to me it’s like gold. Not all gold is rice. But sometimes it is. Now it may not have the same shine as the normal gold, but it shines in my eyes. And isn’t that what really counts. I think it is. Typing that got actually tears in my eyes, and it has nothing to do with the fact that I poke my nail with my nail a while back. Nope. I am just thinking of the purity of rice. So pure, so fresh. 

Rice. Rice. Rice. Rice. 

Rice. Rice. Rice. Rice. 

Rice. Rice. Rice. Rice. 

Rice. Rice. Rice. Rice. 

Rice. Rice. Rice. Rice. 

Rice. Rice. Rice. Rice. 

Rice. Rice. Rice. Rice. 

Rice. Rice. Rice. Rice. 

Rice. Rice. Rice. Rice. 

Rice. Rice. Rice. Rice. 

Rice. Rice. Rice. Rice. 

Rice. Rice. Rice. Rice. 

Rice. Rice. Rice. Rice. 

Rice. Rice. Rice. Rice. 

Rice. Rice. Rice. Rice. 

Rice. Rice. Rice. Rice. 

Love, 

Upa. 

How to Find A Solution

Jugaad

(colloquial) a mechanical solution to a problem, work around to skip or solve a problem

Dear Upa,

                 I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. 

It's been that way for a while now, but I think I've reached a point where I've stopped pretending I know what I'm doing because a) it's too much effort, and b) no one else knows what they're doing, either. 

I don't have a plan. 

I have a goal, for now, but I have no idea how to achieve it. I'm literally making it up as I go, completely plan-deficient, winging every little problem that comes my way because honestly, I'm too tired to panic. 

Somewhere between working my butt off for a math UT that was a joke for the school and a stupid migraine that wants to kill me and other small problems that keep passing like buildings on a highway, I think I'm completely done. And the funny thing is, I'm actually good. 

Seriously, there has been an alarming hike in my "completely done with everything" level. It's working for me, actually, less thinking and more doing. 

I think this is good, whatever this is, and it's happened so many times this past week already. I'm getting my work done, I haven't gotten in trouble (yet) and I panic lesser, or for shorter amounts of time. 

Maybe it'll be a while before I actually have a plan. Maybe I'll never have a plan. Either way, I know I'll find a temporary solution to it so it doesn't bother me at the time. 

Every problem has a makeshift solution, and I realised I'm good at finding them. 

Unless it's math, of course. 

Bye for now, 

Aditi. 

How to Find Your Purpose

Dear Aditi,
   So I've had to write 3 Statement of Purposes in the past week. That didn't go so great.  I feel like at the start of 11th grade I had my whole life planned out, and I was sure of what I want to do, but as the months progressed I kind of lost pieces of my passion along the way. I did pick up new things, and dropped a few unnecessary ones along the way but I lost track.

I lost track of who I am, and what I want to be. And it insane to know what you want to do for your whole like when you are 17 and a sheltered child who never had to fend for himself but, I am suppose to. And a while ago, I did. Now, I kind of do.

It's still design. Of course it's still design. That's like my only talent, god knows writing isn't one because why do I use so many commas. Like at this point might as well make a whole sentence with only commas. But anyway, to find your way you must lose your way.
Well, I'm very lost and now I got to find my way.  

I just really hope whatever I have bullshitted will get me through somewhere. Because I know this is what I want to do, but I don't know what to do with it. Does that make sense? I have a strong feeling that would be a perfect statement if I was studying liberal arts and just studying because I want to study. But apparently designers don't study just because they want to study, they study to get hired. And then get money.

I want money, so I guess that's why I am studying????? I don't know anymore.
And college is starting tomorrow which I am already dreading because ew college. My plan is to sleep all day in college, I say that now. But we know that when the lecture starts I get scared if the teacher will catch me or not and never end of sleeping but also not end up understanding so it ends up being a waste of my time and theirs. I am going to check how much attendance I have and calculate how much I can bunk. I am going to willingly use maths in my daily life. Wow.

Love,
upa.

How to Stress (Come On)

Nepenthe

(n.) something that can make you forget grief or suffering. 

Dear Upa, 

                 I'm so bad at stress. 

But, before you cue the roll of eyes accompanied with an equally exasperated "here we go again," let me elaborate. 

This year is exceptionally hard for everyone our age. Like everyone else, I get stressed all the time and it sucks. It's like I'm being pushed further and further to do better and to do more, and almost every single day is exhausting. Even if it isn't actually physically doing anything the mental stress is more than enough to cause a splitting headache, but here's the thing. 

When the stress is mine, I can deal with it. I can fix it (because my procrastination is usually the cause of it), and if that doesn't happen then I can just choose to not let it bother me. 

But when it's other people, that's when it really sucks. That I can't control, and sometimes nothing I will ever do is going to make it better. Of course, the fact that I'm literally across the country from more than half the people I love most in the world doesn't help much either, it's not like I can show up with cup cakes and the most non-awkward hug I can muster if I hear someone cry over the phone (I've done it before and I would do it again).

Don't get me wrong, sometimes it wears me down to hear problems after problems that other people are dealing with, because it just makes me sad. But I know I'd rather be weary of listening to problems than not listening to them at all and being oblivious to what they're going through. 

It's not just stress about the future, it's so many things together. Honestly, I'm surrounded by the strongest people to have ever existed, because the way I see everyone deal with their life just has me awestruck. I don't have half the problems they do, and I complain about things like back pain or being shouted at by people for doing better than them in tests. It's pathetic, lol. 

It stresses me out to see the people I love stressed, because I can't help them and I can't expect them to let me. That's why I got particularly emotional when I read what Kookie said about his hyungs, how seeing them sad makes him sad. It's so damn relatable. 

I trust them to be able to deal with their problems, because they are stronger than I will ever be. I wish I could make it better, and I do try. I wish they could see themselves the way I see them, and I wish they could know that they're the reason they're going to be okay. 

That life tries to knock them down over and over again, and here they are living, despite it all. 

I just wish they wouldn't take so much stress. 

Bye for now,

Aditi. 

How to Believe in God

Dear Aditi, 

Let's talk about God. And not the Jesus variety. 

So, for the zero people who read these. God is my senpai who I really like and is actual human goals in every sense of the way. She is very trash but incredible at academics, and she is the sweetest human who cheers people through the medium of dog memes. 

Anyway, the first time I had seen and noticed God in college was when she had worn a homestuck shirt to college, and I saw it told Niv and both of us followed her. Now I'm not into homestuck, honestly I don't get it and it's really long and complicated. But Niv is. So I was forcing her to go talk to this person who might be a homestuck fan or just got incredibly lucky as a cosplay. 

Turns out she was into that. And Niv and God quickly became friends. And Niv would come and fangirl to me about her. And it was cute. I was like I wish I had someone I could fangirl over like that about. Then realised I had you, and BTS and Saap Ghar. 

Niv had mentioned to be that God was also into BTS and anime and like almost everything I like. And I had just thought whoa she is a super human, that's a lot of fandoms. But then again I am also part of most of these fandoms. Except homestuck. 

And then I got added in a group. With fangirls and cosplayers and the whole lot of that. And God was one of them. And she was showing off all the Kpop merch her mumma bought her from Seoul. And I was so excited and also a little jealous. 

But she was a cool person who talked in memes, so it really resonated with me, on a personal level. 

And then she invited my group of friends to a Kpop Contest. To watch, and like meet more kpop humans. We all decided we would go for it, nothing could go wrong can it. 

Nope. Wrong. A lot can go wrong. Like rain. A whole lot of rain. And Mona didn't have an umbrella, which isn't really a problem since the rest of us were okay sharing. But she refused and got wet instead claiming it was fun. Honestly, I don't get how that can be fun, but I mean you do you. 

The only problem is that, since she was wet she couldn't come for the kpop thing and the other one loves her so went along with her. Which left me alone to go for the thing with all of my friend circle ditching me and the only hope I had was God. 

And that's when she stopped being a friend of a friend, and became an actual friend. A direct human who l like to interact with without any other reason than I just like them. 

Everything that Niv said about her was true. And she calls me Kookie, or son. Depending on the situation. And sometimes hibiscus to tease me.  

And I mostly call her God. Because God is hilarious. It's a funny name, and makes people confused. She is a genius for coming up with that. 

She is such an incredible person, that I have come to the realisation that she is one of the few people out there I can't stand disappointing. And I am completely whipped to the point where I will go out of my way just to make her happy even when she doesn't ask for it. 

The few people who when I see something in a shop, I will be like God will like that and then buy it for her. But she doesn't like people spending money on her, which makes it very problematic. She also isn't the type to be unappreciative when given a gift so that makes it slightly better. 

And in so many ways God is like you. So pure, and innocent (let's ignore the fact she writes gay smut, but if you ever think about getting a new hobby- I will always read your gay smut ;) ) 

Here is what I want to say. 

I really really like God. 

I even love God. 

But in the most platonic way possible. Okay, not the most platonic- I am always a little gay. 

But it's like the type of admiration that Kookie has for his hyungs. And I am so whipped but I wouldn't change it. 

Love, 

upa. 

How To Make Them Proud

caim

"kyem" n. 

Sanctuary; an invisible circle of protection, drawn around the body with the hand to remind one of being safe and loved, even in the darkest times. 

Dear Upa,

I feel like I'm fairly good at looking after myself. 

I mean, I care about education, I can be reasonably responsible and I'm not completely stupid. I know I'm more independent than quite a few people my age and I don't let myself be sad or stressed about anything for more than a stipulated period of time. 

Okay, fine, there are a few things, like the fact that today I realised I hadn't eaten anything in 24 hours except iced tea or that I've managed 3 hours of sleep before 9 hours of classes, but taking a holistic view, I think I can do fine alone. 

But, if I'm honest, the reason I can proudly say that I'm reasonably independent is because of my parents. 

A lot of people I meet are often of the opinion that I'm childish or insane, and all I can say is that they've never met the ones who made me this way. 

My mother is ridiculous. She steals my things and starts cleaning my room everytime she enters it. She buys a worrying amount of saris every week. She's adopted half her office staff as her own children and she argues with my dog. My dad is completely insane. He cracks the worst jokes and says the most childish things that make me laugh loudly in public. He squeals when he sees cute animals and he makes me carry all the bags. 

But my mother is invincible. Honestly, I've never seen her upset or disheartened, except when it's related to her family. She's fierce, determined, and I don't know how a person like her exists, she's magic. My dad, I can safely say that I've never seen anyone kinder or braver than he is. His life has been ridiculously tough,  and he's still the same, laughing, lighthearted person he's always been, and even before I knew what the words "role model" meant, I knew my dad was mine. 

My awkwardness extends even to my parents, and so I don't tell them how much they mean to me nearly as much as I should. 

They're the ones who've seen me at my absolute worst, and they're the ones who are constantly worried about me (except Vandu, is she counted?). Just last week, before my units began, my dad came up to me and started massaging my head and shoulders, saying "Look, the stress that's here, it's leaving" and my mom said that if I want they'll take turns to sleep in the room I would study in so I wasn't alone. 

Moments like these, I realise that no matter how much they may annoy me, despite everything, they love me no matter what, and I don't say this out loud, but I love them and I always will. 

Obviously, it's not always rosy and happy. Like all parents, they embarrass me and say pointless and rude things, and like all kids, I can be rude to them as well. I've never been the sort to worship my parents out loud anyway, but if I'm honest, I owe them everything.

Sometimes I wonder why I want to do well in life. Yeah, obviously, money is important. But it's mainly for them. Sometimes I look at them and wonder how they do it, how they can be so good at what they do and how they can possibly make me any prouder, and yet they do it everyday. 

If, one day, I'm able to make my parents even a tiny bit as proud of me as I am of them, then all of this will be worth it. One day, somehow, I will make them proud. 

I feel like I'm fairly good at looking after myself, but to be honest, my parents are pretty damn amazing at it. 

Bye for now,

Aditi. 

How to know Love

Dear Aditi, 

I can't really say this. 

It is for you to decide. 

Love is love if you choose that it is.

How to Love?

nebulous

ˈnɛbjʊləs/

(of a concept) vague, ill-defined.

Dear Upa,

A fanfic I read recently pointed out the difference between loving someone and falling in love with someone, and honestly, I was horrified. It made me realise something which wasn't exactly helpful to my already existential crisis-prone brain at all. 

...I have no idea what love is. 

And you know that, because we've discussed it on several occasions. No matter how I look at it, I don't understand what love is. 

I've always thought of myself as an awkward person. I don't show emotion at all (unless it's BTS related) and I can't let people know how much they mean to me. But even though I'm an awful excuse for a functioning human being, and I don't know what love is, I guess I do know what it feels like. 

It feels like being unable to say no to them at all because their happiness makes you feel weaker and stronger at the same time. It feels like being ready to stay up all night if it means you can help them pass an exam. It feels like looking for pictures of memories to spam someone with just because they feel like they have nothing to look forward to. It feels like looking up articles on how to get over people so that they don't hurt anymore. It feels like smiling for the first time in a day because of something dumb that person said. It feels like being exhausted but staying up anyway because talking to the person feels better. It feels like not knowing the first thing about how to take care of sick people but doing it anyway, for them. It feels like taking any opportunity to let that person sleep in because they haven't been sleeping much lately.  It feels like thinking of someone's smile to get through a horror movie. It feels like the sound of soft black paws padding across a tile floor. It feels like not having the heart to remove the Jesus stickers they put on your phone cover because it reminds you of them. 

Maybe somethings aren't meant to be understood, just felt. 

I don't know what it is to fall in love, I don't know what it is to love someone, and maybe I never will. But maybe that's not much of a problem.

Maybe some things are best left nebulous. 

Bye for now, 

Aditi. 

How to be Your Bias

Dear Aditi,

Today, one of my design teachers- Indira Ma'am looked at me and asked me what is wrong and why I looked so lost in class. Which is quite unlike me in design class, so she got worried.

And it a very Upasana style I reply- "To lose your way is the way to find the way." Now I was just being BTS Trash, but she didn't know that so she asked me, "And what is the way you am searching for?"

Now, this is the Sunday morning class. I am rarely in a normal state of mind, Sunday morning even less so. I'm not sure what she was expecting from me actually, probably like be the best designer out there, design to innovate, change the world of fashion. You get the gist.

But no, that would have been the normal way to answer something. And God knows I'm not normal. So I pointed to the front of my portfolio. Which has an A4 size picture of Kim Namjoon in freaking Gudetama onsie. Now Indira Ma'am has heard me quite a few times talking about him, and she kind of knows him. She knows he is Korean and a musician. That's about it, but you know what- that's enough. This is the same woman I tried to explain lenny to and well she reassured her believe that I am actually an insane person. 

But you know what, judging my taste in things. That's fine. I'm used to that. 

Instead she was like he is a very pretty boy, too pretty and he looks like me. According to her. Now my mom says the same thing and I don't see it, also Indira Ma'am has kind of adopted me as like a daughter even way that might be a factor. But what I picked up from this is that she thinks I am pretty, and she is very similar to my mom. 

(I have a lot of mothers at this point I have come to realise. There is Mumma, the two Saap Moms, God's Mom, and now this one. I can build a mom army now.) 

Love, 

Upa. 

How to See True Colors

iridescent

ˌɪrɪˈdɛs(ə)nt

adjective

showing luminous colours that seem to change when seen from different angles.

Dear Upa,
                 Part of this letter is directed at a certain Korean.
When I was younger and hadn't developed a thought process of my own, pink used to be my favourite colour. 

But as I grew up, I was taught that pink was a colour meant exclusively for girls and blue was a luxury only boys could enjoy. 

Pink was not just for girls, it was for girly girls, and like a lot of girls my age, I refused to be a girly girl. 

Pink, which used to be my favourite colour, was quickly demoted to my least favourite colour because I was not a typical girl. Girls were weak, and they cried a lot, and I was not weak. I was different. I was strong. I was not a girly girl, and pink was not my favourite colour. 

As I grew a little more, I began to realise that colour had no gender, and monopolising colours was just a part of the heteronormative propaganda of the ignorant. I educated myself, formed my own opinions and all that, but pink never became my favourite colour again. 

Maybe deep down I continued to  associate the colour with the childish fear of being labelled as "weak" or "ordinary". Maybe the colour itself wasn't the problem, the problem was the casual look of judgement that flashed across certain people's faces if I ever told them pink was my favourite colour. It shouldn't have mattered, and I thought it didn't. But it did. 

And then you came along, pink flip phone raised proudly in the air, and suddenly I saw colours that I didn't know existed. 

You weren't one of them, you weren't so insecure about your masculinity that you couldn't admit you loved pink. You effortlessly seemed to destroy stereotype after stereotype, so unapologetically yourself that all I could do was look at it all in awe.

Most people said you were golden, magnificent, shining with such lustre that it looked like you had a light of your own. And I agreed with them. 

Sometimes, you were pale blue. Hiding in the background like the sky on the kind of day when no one notices it. Sometimes you were grey, and on these rare occasions you showed some feeling of sadness, which to me was quite surprising because you seemed to be perpetually happy. On some days you were red, like a fire, burning brightly with all the talent and intensity some of us know you are full of, but most of us seem to miss. Sometimes you were colours I didn't know the names of. When you refused to be an adult and did the strangest, inexplicably childish things out of nowhere, you were the colour bubbles became when they reflect sunlight. When you smiled, your usually golden-looking face broke into a kaleidoscope of colours, kind of like still water turning into water with ripples dancing on it. 

And I loved every part of it. I didn't know what kind of love it was, or what it meant, all I knew was that I loved it and it was real. You made me want to be a better person.

You were iridescent. You were the most beautiful mixture of colours I had ever seen, and I couldn't place you in a box. No one could. You showed different colours from every angle people looked at you. You weren't golden, or grey, or pale blue, or even red- you were pink. 

And suddenly, just like that, pink was my favourite colour again.  



PS: I WROTE THIS TWO DAYS BEFORE HE WENT AND DYED HIS HAIR PINK.
HE DYED AND I DIED
HAHAAHA
HAHSHAH
HA

im dead rip me

how to happiness

dear aditi,

i think happiness is really fucking hard to get, one of the hardest to achieve really. and it gets worse when you want too much, but im not going to tell you to want less because i could never want less.
honestly i dont know why to not feel sad because sadness has always been a recurring theme in my life, not to say im depressed, like the psychological despressed cause i am really not. i studied that in class today, and when the teacher looked me in the eye i smirked at her. smirked. why did i do that. honestly i dont know, maybe it was because i thought she was talking shit and like all psychologist have this really narrow term for normal and anything outside that is abnormal. i have a total of four first cousins, out of which 2 have been medically treated for their different mental illnesses, and that has changed them as individuals i feel. so maybe that's my reason for being untrusting towards them. although i am a psychology student, so i plan to learn what it is before i talk shit about it completely. i had a point to all this. okay maybe i didnt. i never really have a point to anything. i just do what i have to do, and sometimes what i want to do. with age and experience, as god puts it, i have learnt two things. one all nighters are always a bad idea. and two, life will suck the happiness out of you and leave you an empty shell of a person, but then you know what, you can find new forms of happiness. like me. i am your happiness and you will be here soon. and i can hug you and smell you.
you know at this point i don't even care if im not your happiness, but you are mine and im going to be stuck to you for a long time.
love,
upa.

How To Be Zyaada

resilient

rɪˈzɪlɪənt

adjective

1.

(of a substance or object) able to recoil or spring back into shape after bending, stretching, or being compressed.

Dear Upa,

Life really sucks sometimes. 

I’m definitely not the most optimistic person out there and I’m definitely not the strongest, but I do try my best to not be sad about things. I mean, it’s not like I do it consciously, I just automatically start laughing at times when a normal person would cry, so I guess I’m physically incapable of being sad all the time. In fact, the only indication the people around me have when I’m not happy is that I’m not smiling, that’s how they know something’s up, because I’m kinda always smiling. It’s a little creepy when I come to think of it, actually.

But despite my socially unacceptable creepy behavior of smiling all the time, I have to agree that sometimes, no matter how you look at the situation, life sucks. So I try to tell myself to not be sad. 

The first thing I usually end up doing is telling myself how so many people around me have it way worse than I do, and how much stronger they are, but recently it’s stopped working. I mean, how is the fact that other people are even sadder than I am supposed to make me happy at all? I want my friends to be happy, I don’t want them to go through the sort of crap they go through, so how is the fact that they’re going through stuff worse than I am supposed to make me feel better? 

I try talking to friends about it, but then I just feel like a burden and that makes me sadder. Which is stupid and not fair, I know, but I really can’t help it. So my rants are limited to study-related panic attacks which I know are extremely annoying for you guys to deal with, but I mean being friends with me is worth it so it’s okay, I guess.

So then I indulge in something that takes my mind off sadness completely, (i.e. BTS) and that almost always works and I become incredibly happy, but once I stop doing BTS-related things I start becoming sad again.

And it sucks, being sad sucks. Why would I chose to be sad if I could just be happy? Emotions are dumb. Everything is dumb. I am dumb.

So then my last strategy is to simply refuse to be sad. Being sad is not an option. It’s a waste of precious time I could spend laughing over memes. 

As of one of our best friends (Aloo) had said when I had told her that a 98% cut-off is “thoda zyaada only”- “it is, but you’re more zyaada”. 

(“It’s a bit too much”. “It is, but so are you.”)

(I know, I’m totally a better translator than bing)

So, basically, I refuse to be sad, and I urge you to be happy, too. I will bend, but I will not break.

I will be resilient.

Bye for now,

Aditi.

how to deal with deadlines

dear aditi,
i am really bad with deadlines. And i mean really bad. i usually finish my work after the deadline and somehow sweet talk my way into submissions. it's a process I seem to have become quite good at in college.
but what i have yet to learn is maybe actually trying to complete the project before the deadline, trying to meet it. maybe, that could be a small possibility.
the other day i was completing kscope work at home, and I was frantically working that my home. my mom asked me why they gave so much work, and when I told her they gave me 2 weeks to complete it and I just didn't do it she gave me this disappointed look. not that she is much better than me, so god knows why she is like this.
and now i have more project deadlines which i fail to submit on time but thankfully the teachers don't hate me that much so i get a bit more time.
but i realise i am a designer, and for what i want to do in my life deadlines will always be there for me, and most designers don't work by the hour but rather work by how much shit they get done, and if i can't get shit done on time well it will be bad
so i'm going to try working on that now and hopefully it'll work out
on time
love,
upa. 

How To Deal With Kids(?)

Dear Upa,

                 My entire existence thus far has been a lie.

I thought I didn’t like children. Not not like, I mean, I didn’t know what to do with them.

A plant? I can probably handle it. A rock? No problem. A puppy? YES PLEASE.

But a baby? What do you do with it? Where do you put it? 

On top of that, they’re ridiculously noisy and anyone who says a screaming baby is cute is either high on drugs or lying. And children tell you if they don’t like you, they don’t even have the decency to lie, and I can’t deal with people not liking me, so I can’t deal with kids.

So, basically, I guess I never really hated kids, even the super annoying ones that run around and scream, they just made me really uncomfortable.

That was, until my dad called guests over. AND THEY BROUGHT THEIR CHILDREN.

I was horrified. I don’t know what they were expecting when they brought their children, to be honest. What were they supposed to do between dads getting drunk and moms discussing maids? Get bored, that’s what. 

And my dad knew that, I saw it in his eyes, mingled with a sheepish, apologetic look as he shuffled three children into my room as I was sitting in front of my economics textbook pretending to study.

There was nothing he could do, he was stuck. But not nearly as stuck as I was.

There were three kids, an eighth grade boy who was taller than 6ft so like wot and two girls, who were sisters, in seventh and second grade. A second grader was in my room and I was supposed to entertain her for 3 hours.

My world came crumbling down around me. It would be bad enough if they were my age, but these were children. I panicked.

And I don’t know if it was the panic, or the relief that no one started crying (except me, but that was internal) or the fact that we actually managed to talk for 3 whole hours, but I didn’t have the worst time in the world. It was… it was fun.

The children were actually pretty cool. The elder kids loved Harry Potter and Percy Jackson, which made things a whole lot easier. They also loved dogs, and they told me about the gossip in their classes which I found cute. I got them food and we ate Bertie Botts Every Flavoured Beans and laughed at each other when someone ate bad ones. I only got Candy Floss, Cherry, Banana, Tooti Frooti and Marshmallow, so my luck was great. The boy tried all the yucky ones and the little shit even fed me a vomit flavour, and I will never trust him again. They were also hilarious, I died laughing on several occasions, we played games and they're honestly adorable. I love cute people. Especially the small one. She told me that a boy told her he loved her and I laughed and asked what she replied, and she said she wanted to take her sister’s tennis racquet and beat him up. She’s seven. 

I poked her cheek several times and wrapped her in a blanket and wiped her face when rasmalai dribbled down it, and it was only when I was washing my hands in the sink that I looked at myself in the mirror and wondered what I had become.

And it wasn’t one-sided. My dad came in at one point and asked the kids, “Is Aditi didi taking good care of you?”, and they all yelled “YES!!!” loudly, and you didn’t hear it from me, but I think my heart swelled with happiness.

I think I’m a child myself and I find kids way more relatable than I find most people my age. 

I think, miraculously, in the 3 hours full of fries that got eaten up by 12 year olds before I could get my hands on them and a seven year old doing ballet in the middle of my room and a lot of toilet related jokes, I realised that I don’t hate kids, and kids don’t hate me.

My entire existence thus far has been a lie, and I think I don’t really mind.

Bye for now, 

Aditi.

How to Comedy

Dear Aditi,
   I want to be busy. I want to be so busy and emotions don't have a chance to bother me. I want to be so busy, that once I get home and lie in bed it's the happiest feeling I can get. I want to be so busy that I am always getting shit done.
Now, I know that normal individually rather not stay busy. And when I am too busy, even I complain about it. But I rather have a lot to do than nothing to do. But that is just a passing thought.
I have taken up a lot of projects to do recently, and I don't know if I'll regret it or not but let's see.
Other than that, this morning during design class we had to do product design. Now fun fact, I'm terrible at product design. It's kind of my weakest link, except maths. So, being the shit I am I didn't take the assignment seriously and designed some sort of tribal mask, and meat mallet and a torture device. That doesn't make me seem normal, but as a designer normal doesn't really exist.
Anyway, halfway through the teacher was like now you have to present your ideas. And I was fucked, but I went anyway and did it with the most serious face I could muster.
And you know what my teacher says after I'm done, 'you should think about being a stand up comedian' 

She was teasing, but I started genuinely thinking about it and realised that if I was maybe a little less of a social disaster that might be an option. Alas, it isn't and I'm still a designer. 

Love, 

upa.

How to Complain

Dear Upa,

       

                I’m trying to look for new things to talk about to bring in some variety, but honestly, I’m drawing a blank. It’s not like my life is particularly multi-faceted, and there’s only so many different ways I can come up with to complain about the things that happen to me. 

For example, my beautiful luck when the mixtape came out. I don’t know why I’m always right about what’s going to happen or why this can’t happen to me when I write papers, all I know is that out of the vast expanse of possible moments Yoongs could have picked to drop ‘Agust D’, it was when I was out of dinner with my relatives. I literally excused myself to the bathroom to watch the MV and was shaking like a psychotic person for the rest of the dinner, what is my life.

Then in Eco class sir asked a question and I whispered the answer and he was like “what?” and instead of shaking my head I tried to explain and then he got confused and I was like “what” and he was like “what” and then I became a blubbering mess and went low in my seat and covered my face with my notebook because I was embarrassed to get so much attention randomly in the middle of class and my friends just laughed at me. I may have looked cute to them, but I think they have a bias.

I’ve also been ranting to every person in the universe about Agust D. One of our friends listened to the whole thing and went “I zoned out ten minutes ago” and I was like that’s okay and continued ranting. I also think I embarrassed myself online by ranting to this really nice girl about ‘my small baby look at him I’m so proud this isn’t a mixtape it’s a mastepiece aGHHHGHgh’. 

But I’m trying not to think too much about that. 

One of my friends said that my pen pencil is shit and bought me a pencil and it was PINK because Jin and I held on to it like it was the most valuable thing ever because I was so touched but obviously I lost it and was so embarrassed that I haven’t carried my pouch to school for two weeks.

And I could go on forever, honestly, but I’m emotionally drained because of thinking about Agust D. Besides, you’re not really missing much.

Sorry for being so shit at posting. :(

Bye for now, 

Aditi.

How to Find Your Type of Nerd

Dear Aditi,

So, Bangalore has been fun. It's always been one of those cities that I liked because of the city itself; and not because of the people living in the city. For one thing, the shops here and actual two storied shops. And malls aren't as big here as proper stores are. I don't know what it is about seeing a huge shop of a certain brand that makes me so happy. But it does. I did try to ask my mom to take me shopping but she hasn't agreed to it yet, so I'm not sure when that is going to happen.

Apart from that let me tell you about the people I am living with. So they are very close family friends. Almost like family, and really we do treat each other like that. So family. And I haven't met them in 5 years. I have changed a lot in 5 years. And so has he.

For one his voice is not the kiddish voice anymore, but actually sounds like a boy. He has grown taller and is now only a little shorter than me. He is a ninth grader by the way. He also speaks in this weird american indian accent which I don't know where he picked up from since he has been living in Bangalore, but yeah. But more importantly he is a nerd. I like nerds. I like only nerds. But he is also that pretentious type of one who only believes in what he believes, and I guess I am like that sometimes but the fact that he said he hated Kpop because everything is too bright. How dare he. He also said the stupid North or South Korea joke, which I have heard a million times. Honestly, I prefer to call it Uptown Korea and Downtown Korea but that's a different issue. He and my brother get along really well though because they are actually the same type of nerds. Like a carbon copy of the other. It's scary to see, it's like having another brother and it's a younger brother and I don't like that. But it's not like he has done anything bad yet, so I refuse to make a judgement so fast. I'll give it a few days and then I'll leave Bangalore.

I did meet nerds I actually like at the design firm though. I mean, they were nothing like me and yet we had so much to talk about because at the end of the day we had a similar goal. Some of the people at the firm thought I was a new designer which made me really happy because that means I look the part. Or act like it. Or both. Whatever, it makes me happy. Although, does that mean I look that old? I am not old. Not yet. Old age is catching up to me in an incredible speed, but still not yet.

Love,
upa. 

How Not to Sleep

Dear Upa,

                  Things are going alright. 

I'm going to school, which is good. School isn't that bad, you know. My friends are great, I love my subjects, and school makes me laugh a lot and  laughing is fun. 

The only reason I don't feel like going is because I'd rather sleep at home. For me it's a constant battle between sleep, school, and studying. If I choose any two I can't have the third. Like earlier, I used to study at night and sleep instead of going to school. But then I realised how messed up my attendance really was. Not that I expected anything else, to be honest. So now, I don't sleep. I know it's not the most ideal solution, but I would help it if I could. 

For someone who loves sleep so damn much, I don't do it nearly enough. 

Other than that, a lot of things are happening and it's good. Also, the coming weekend is the first proper weekend I'm going to get since April, and I'm so excited.

I can stay up all night being trash, and I can also sleep. 

It sounds a little too good to be true.

Have fun in Bangalore!

Bye for now,

Aditi. 

How to Fashion

Dear Aditi,
   This blog has a few distinct topics that we always talk about. How the future is scary. Homework is hard. The education system is terrible. Humans are difficult. Lack of social skills. How much we miss each other.
All great topics of discussion but damnit I feel like I need to be more interesting. So I'll tell you about something I studied today. And I know that sounds even more boring, but I have interesting subjects. I swear. Except Eco. Economics is terrible and I hate it with a burning passion. Except this one time we were doing exceptions of the law of DMU and one of the points was drunkards, which the teacher gave instead of addicts or alcoholic. Drunkards. I have laughed a lot about this. This is basically my sense of humour.
Anyway, we had an As You Like It chapter today. Basically it was the whole story shortened to 4 pages. But it was done so terribly I was crying. Nothing was explained. There wasn't enough Touchstone and I was almost in tears behind my fake glasses I wear because I think they are fashionable.
Speaking of fashion, sometimes I wonder why not get into fashion. It seems like a great career choice actually. I mean I am good at it. I understand it. I like it. But then I just sometimes feel like I just don't belong in it. Like if you look at me, I am not exactly screaming fashion. Usually I look like a hot mess, but for some reason that works for me. Don't know how, but it works.
This is a lot like a shit post.
Love,
upa. 

How To Not Know How

Dear Upa,

                

                That happens to me all the time.

I totally know where you’re coming from.

Well, maybe I’m not that affected by the not being able to approach people thing. I mean yes, it is a huge problem sometimes, but sometimes I’m just used to it. Most of the time, I’m not really interested in approaching people anyway. At times it’s not because there’s anything wrong with them, but because my brain completely shuts down and I become hyper aware of everything I’m saying if I really care about what someone thinks of me. Usually, if there’s someone that I really, REALLY want to get to know, I eventually end up getting to know them. The times I don’t I just deal with it.

Basically what I’m saying is that it’s not like it’s not a huge problem for me or that I don’t wish I knew how to fix it, I’m just saying that I’ve gotten used to dealing with it. I think.

That’s the thing about being both shy and socially awkward. I know that I’m not completely socially inept, sometimes I surprise myself, but sometimes my brain completely shuts down and I go blank. Sometimes talking in front of other people TERRIFIES me but sometimes it just comes to me naturally. It just depends on the day. 

I would help it if I could, but I really don’t know how to.

Bye for now, 

Aditi

How to Talk About your feelings

Dear Aditi,
   I feel like we have just to the point in out lives again where we are always suppose to be studying but also we never are. Or maybe just the point where we have to start thinking seriously again. And it sucks. All my addictions, none of which are drugs, are weighing me down.
Other things weighing me down. Mainly my emotions. So today is one of those rare days where I will full on talk about my feeling with no barriers and possibly no fandoms. So there was this girl in french class. I have never talked to her. Ever. But we always end up making eye contact. But not randomly it's mostly because she is very aesthetically appealing. Like not pretty, but good to look at if that makes sense. And I stare. And then we make eye contact and I never smile. Not once have I smiled at her and she smiled at me. She is basically that one person who I want to approach but don't know how because they don;t seem anything like a nerd or like caring about anything in particular. You know the types who are just in college, but like not trying to do anything better. Like one of the many cattle in our college. Just an extremely aesthetically pleasing cattle. This is not any sort of attraction. I refuse to believe it is.
Anyway, so she is there. And now our now mutual friend and my former crush and I hope you know who I am talking about; befriended her. Just like that. She just went up and talked and boom. She has the 'hots' for her now.
Now I don't have a problem with this but it's frustrating that I can't do that. That I can't just go up to a person and talk to them and I really hate that because I want to be like that. What makes it worse is that she makes it sound like it's no big deal.
So I am jealous about really dumb things but it is really weighing my heart down so I guess normal to talk about your feeling, right?
Love,
upa. 

How To Be Addicted

Dear Upa,
                 I'm supposed to be studying.

Actually, I'm supposed to be studying for quite some time now, but I've just judiciously wasted my time. It's kind of funny now.

I just don't want to work. I think my brain has a work threshold and once it crosses that it just goes like nope and shuts down completely. It's really inconvenient, to be honest. I wish I could do something about it. Actually, I'm pretty certain I can do something about it. I probably should. I just really don't want to.

I even woke up at 5 am to study and ended up looking at memes. I spend a lot of time looking at memes, now that I think about it. Memes are so much better than work.

I've also been missing you guys a lot recently. It's like a sudden attack, striking when I least expect it. Like I was alright for weeks but now suddenly I really miss you people. Don't get me wrong, I always miss you, but sometimes I go a little mad. There has been more than one occasion where I just realise how much happier I am with you around. And while dinner yesterday I was thinking about how just the feeling of Saap Ghar having food together makes me feel more at home than almost anything else.

I guess BTS isn't the only addiction I have, then. And again, there is nothing I'm going to do about it.

Bye for now,
Aditi.

How to write Fanfiction

Dear Aditi,
   I wish I could comfort you in some way. But I do the exact same thing, so me telling you anything about it really wouldn't be valid.
Also, I really wish our chapters were like that. I mean, it's weird yes. But it is interesting. The last english chapter I did was about the decline of birds in India. Except pigeons. Pigeons are just everywhere.
There is this one pigeon that is always trying to get into my bathroom and every morning I try to insult it to make it go away. Maybe closing the window would work, but I work with insults and it's great. I did tell the pigeon one time that he was very loser. The pigeon might be a she, I don't know. I don't care enough to figure it out.
I should try writing pigeon fanfiction, I mean after that really weird naagin smut I wrote this would be rather tame.

"His eyes bore into mine.
The were bright red againist his shiny blue feather.
Everywhere I looked he was there.
It's like I couldn't get him out of my head.
And all the poop.
Poop.
Poop."

Yes, I am a writer. Okay, maybe I am insulting writers saying that. I am better at other stuff. Like rolling my mouth into a ‘W’. I got serious talent.

So, I have a problem. Apart from the other usually stuff. This is the part of the post where I complain about and say I'm going to try to change but go back to doing the same thing again and again.

But the thing is I am sad and I don’t know why. I feel like Antonio in the start of Merchant of Venice. You probably know what I am talking about, and probably can recite the lines. No, I am sure that you can. Anyway, I feel like Antonio. And you are my Bassanio. Portia is Jin, which I think is actually very fitting. Honestly, I don’t remember the other characters nor do I want to at the moment.

The reason I think I am sad is because I am always tired. I slept 10 hours. And at the most useless time to sleep, that is when everyone else is awake. Plus, I don’t really have a reason to smile. Usually my reason to smile is you. And it’s not that you aren’t there. I mean physically you aren’t here, but I am always talking to you. But it’s that there is always something to look forward to. Either you coming here or me going there, but that can’t happen as often as it does and it is just now dawning on me. So my solution is I am going to spend 85 rupees buying a red bull to keep me awake. 

Love, 

upa. 

How To Be In Trouble

Dear Upa,

                

                I literally have no life.

At least, I thought I didn’t. 

But recently, in English class, we did a chapter about a girl who’s so in love with this footballer and so suffocated with the circumstances of her own world that she escapes reality by fantasising about him. It’s a really creepy lesson (right up there with Ranga’s marriage).

She lies about having met the footballer and (spoiler alert) at the end of the lesson she goes to the arcade and imagines him there with her and the whole lesson basically turns into a fan fiction.

This is an actual part of the chapter where she’s imagining meeting him:

“His eyes are on the same level as your own. His nose is

freckled and turns upwards slightly, and when he smiles

he does so shyly, exposing teeth with gaps between. His

eyes are green, and when he looks straight at you they

seem to shimmer. They seem gentle, almost afraid.

Like a gazelle’s. And you look away. 

You let his eyes run over you a little.

And then you come back to find them, slightly breathless.”

See? Told you.

Anyway, the reason I’m talking about this lesson is because I’m worried. I’m worried because, sure, I found it really creepy as one should, but I also related to it. And that’s really scary.

The girl in the story feels suffocated in the real world and uses her imagination as a momentary escape.

When I think about my everyday life, 90% of the things make me happy is related in some way or another to BTS. It may be pathetic, but it’s true. And everything other than that is just sheer panic about studies and work, that I usually try my best to ignore because I don’t have time to panic and it’s a waste of mine and the people’s time. 

It would be a joke if I tried pretending that I don’t use BTS to escape reality, because I totally do. Even if it’s to zone out in Eco class. Thinking about them is like going to an instant happy place. That sounds a lot like addiction.

The only non-BTS thing that makes me happy is my friends, writing (when it’s not BTS) and Dan and Phil. 

I mean I haven’t reached the same level as the girl in the lesson (yet) but I’m pretty sure it’s not normal, and I find that a little bit scary.

But you know what’s scarier? I know it’s probably not good for me to ignore reality sometimes, but I’m not even going to try to fix it.

I guess its gon’ get me in trooubblllleeeee (ooh, ooh)~

I’m sorry I am like this. Who knew having no life could be so stressful?

Bye for now,

Aditi.