I sit here today as I try to ponder on the inner workings of my mind on this silent afternoon, the Sunday after my escapades. It is something I often do after a long bout of extroverted-ness, my chronic condition of expanding more energy than I would care to on various musings of life. So much has happened in the past three weeks, but most of it too private to tell-tale on a public blog. But know this: there's a bitter coffee to my right, just within reach, and then the ever pervasive sound of the ceiling fan running as my mind tries to count its rotations with accuracy. I sit donning a jade shalwar kameez, buttons of the sleeves in place, back straight as it soothes the pain, I am back in the confines of sunny equatorial Lahore, the city of gardens, home to guardrails of the Punjab. I am reminded, suddenly and somberly of my grandfather, typing as I typed, with both hands on his keyboard, fingers pushing buttons, the learnings of his typewriter days being translated t...
Given recent consequential life changes, on both a personal and professional level, I realized that the mindset that I had before and after the conclusion of the event aforementioned, was drastically different. While I do admire our innate capability as sentient beings to distinguish between the change in our circumstance, our environments and our situations, I am not oblivious to the detrimental nature of a relapse to a more mediocre (or contentment oriented) mindset that has been carefully cultivated in response to a significant struggle. That is what was happening to me, and I realized it, and am now writing about it and trying to actively change it. I fell like the effort I put into changing myself for the better, the walls that I had drawn to hold against future charges of regret and disappointment had begun to erode after the sun had come out shining and the rain-clouds had parted. But I do not want the walls to go down, I do not want to be exposed again. Never in my l...
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