The Me In Me.

There is no particular direction or aim to this post. You have been fore- warned. I just wanted to write this out.


This post is about no-one in particular and someone in general. It’s screaming without lungs.

Do you know what it is like to be an introverted extrovert? It’s a struggle everyday. I don’t know how that works; but it does. Mostly.

Being a girl has become so increasingly nuanced in today’s world. No, this is no rant about the many injustices we face in everyday life. Please resume reading.

I love laughing at crude jokes and cracking a few well-timed ones. I love reading classics while enjoying the highly commercialised and engaging thrillers. Vivaldi is music while Yo Yo Honey Singh is too.  Proper English floweth like a fountain of pure nectar from my mouth but can instantly change into the coarseness of a truck driver. You see. No balance.

I have been blamed for being overtly sentimental and romantic. It’s difficult to explain that maybe I love those things not because Shah Rukh Khan does it or Nicholas Sparks has written about it. Maybe I just do. And maybe, just maybe I am practical in my thoughts. I have been blamed for being ” too friendly” as well. Too open. I hate turning people away, mostly. I have also been called  taciturn and moody.

“OMG, you don’t reply!” Of course not. I don’t FEEL like!

“So much sarcasm, ouch.” It’s a superpower, sorry?

How does one define themselves?

How does one confine themselves to one particular notion of being?

How does one find a person who understands this conundrum that plagues us all?

But since this is my blog, I’d say, where does one find a person who gets me?

Someone who reads my personality type analysis ( to which I am obsessed to) and says “AHA!”. Who understands that yes I am an engineer, yes I want to get into journalism. I love cars but my finger nails are bright pink or orange. I am a student of science who reads “Astrology: Cancerians”. I am someone who is supremely confident in herself but not overly so. And my head is in the skull fully functional but I love my share of duly earned compliments and flattery.

I am all of the above and none of the above.

I am a “good-natured realist”. (

Now how difficult is that?








4 thoughts on “The Me In Me.

  1. I found this post to be about coming to terms with your sensitivity. The sensitivity also touches upon the sensibility, so you have to come to terms with your being – your inner being as well as your persona – even if it is an enigma to others!

    Away from hyper and other boles, a few things are recommended to hone your sensitivity if you want to “BE” an artist —

    You may start with “Canary Row” by Steinbeck, then go on to explore “To a God Unknown” by the same author.

    You may love to read “Jean Christophe” by Romain Rolland..and if you have already started feeling comfortable with your “self” you can explore “As I Lay Dying” and “Sound And Fury” by William Faulkner” – if you have not already read them in your course!

    Enough of preaching –

    I did enjoy your post as I could see my own reflections when I was that young!


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