Good days and bad days

I was having a streak of good days at work. Everything seemed to go right, work got done, clients were pleased, my boss was happy and all was wonderful. I kept wondering when things would start to go wrong. I always tell people to enjoy the moment. And I generally do try to take my own advice, but after a certain point even I started to worry about when things would start going wrong.

And so it happened two days ago. Everything started to go wrong. It seemed like nothing was getting done and every small incident was just blowing up in my face. To top it all my boss, got mad at me for not bringing something to his attention sooner. Given that he doesn’t like to be surprised, it was surely an unpleasant experience for me.

Well… we all have our good days and our bad. What I am saying to myself right now:

– Definitely take my own advice and enjoy the good moments without worrying about when the good time will end

– The good time will end, and there will be bad days. When I have bad days, I should let myself feel awful about it and then move on. Everything gets better with time.

– It’s all a cycle… and if we didn’t have bad days, we wouldn’t know how to appreciate and cherish the good when they come.

To The Women Whose Lives Are Not Love Stories

exceptionally written…

Thought Catalog

Here’s to the women whose lives are not love stories. To those who never expected to find happily-ever-after on their wedding day or the moment their eyes locked with somebody else’s across a crowded café. To the girls who grew up measuring success based on what they achieved for themselves – what they worked through, what they accomplished and what they did not let diminish them along the way.

Here is to women who grew up searching for the dreams that they wanted to realize and the people they wanted to become, not just the man who would sweep them away from the tragedy of their mundane existence. To the women who hoped that their lives would be thrillers, adventure novels, comedies and occasionally pornos but never predominantly romances. Never only a reflection of what they had to offer someone else. Here’s to the women who had bigger plans for…

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Parental Consent

I’ve been dating a guy, on and off, for the last 6 years. We broke up several times, probably because we didn’t think there was a chance for marriage. But then last year, he decided to take the step. He told his parents and they flat out refused. Now, we both come from cultures where get your parent’s approval is an absolute must. And his parents just won’t approve.

It’s not the first time his parents have done this to him. But there wasn’t much of a relationship the previous time. This time it’s different. We’ve been together for so long and just him taking a step should be enough to tell them how much he wants this. But it doesn’t seem to matter to them. And what’s worse is, his siblings are siding with them.

What strikes me as most silly is that they have never even met me. They are denying him a chance at happiness because I don’t fit their profile. They don’t seem to want to acknowledge that their son may have made the right choice. They don’t even care that their son is doing the right thing, marrying a girl he’s been with for over 6 years.

It really is unfair for his parents to not put his happiness before their baseless dislike of me. For them to object so strongly on no grounds shows how selfish and uncaring they are. I know I am simply basing my judgement on their actions, but I can’t help but feel resentment. They are causing both of us a lot of pain.

I’m a parent myself, and I wonder what I would do if I was in that situation. What if I didn’t like the person my daughter wanted to marry? Would I forbid her from marrying him? I don’t know. I can only hope that I raise my daughter to choose the right person. And even if he’s the wrong person, I hope I can raise her strong enough to understand that and make the right choice.


The other night I went out to a bar to catch up with some old friends I used to work with. It was wonderful to talk and reminisce about the wonderful times we had. We used to go dancing all the time. We recounted some of our more interesting nights for the benefit of the new people who joined us.

As we told the stories, I realised something very important. I’ve changed.
The things I did a few years ago, I would probably never think about doing it now. If that night were before, I wouldn’t care that it was a weeknight. I would stay out dancing till the bar closed. I wouldn’t have cared about going late to work the next day or even calling in sick.
But that wasn’t the case that night. It’s not like I didn’t have a blast. But I did worry about waking up the next morning. I was the first one to say, let’s call it a night, which is so unlike me. I didn’t feel bad saying it at all. In fact, it was relief to be home and not go to work feeling awful.
I guess we all have to grow out of things at some point.  My time has come too. It’s not like I don’t enjoy the thought of going out dancing, but I don’t think I enjoy the thought of overdoing it any longer. I’ve changed.

When things eat you up inside

Sometimes the most annoying feeling is to be in a cold war with someone. You know you want things to just be okay again and all you really want is for things to go back to how they were. Yet you’re both being stubborn and no one wants to make the first move. A line has been crossed and there’s no uncrossing it.

Well, I know I’m being stubborn but this time I just don’t want to give in even though it’s really getting to me. I can’t get it off my mind. I’m working longer, spending more time with my kid, reading more and even talking it over with my friends. Nothing seems to help. No amount of talking about it is helping and I just can’t stop thinking about it.

But this time, I’m determined not to be the one to say anything first, even if it’s eating me up inside. Let’s see how long I can hold out….