Navigating Solutions and Darkness

Somebody just asked me if I'm doing Nanowrimo and it legit made me even more depressed. To be fair, I've generally been quite depressed for a while. For approximately 12 years, if we're being technical about it. But also for a few months, because this year I have had good weeks as well as bad weeks. It's so bad right now that I'm psyching myself up to do some basic housework through my writing. The agreement I have with myself is that I will write do one or two things around the house for every few paragraphs. And on that note... *Pause* Well, the worst of it is done. Just the time consuming bits left now. It should be a good weekend considering all the good things - even great things - that have been happening. And yet, I feel like a trash fire. I find myself resenting everyone and everything. I find myself losing my goddamn mind. It's only for another month, tries the voice of reason in my head. And I groan, because ANOTHER MONTH? 28 further days of mad...

December 19, 2010 Watch  The inmates d oomed to stay In this here  Prison house/ Counting bars Watching the shadows/ lengthen Across the desolate yard See  The wistful glances  dart  At sky a nd skylark both Freedom and joy both denied  Watch As their hunger grows The world is hard  On fallen stars Fate is harder, pitiless The punishment most serious For losing what most Could never hope to get Most heartbreaking to see Is the way they turn inwards Tearing at each other Killing for the sake of pain buried Deep in desiccating hearts For mistakes old and mistakes young Faults real and faults imagined The last embers of humanity Consumed in misplaced bestial rage Watch them fight Rolling across the yard In furious embraces locked Fashioning sport for the watching world Gladiator-like and self consuming anger Unheeding jeers and catcalls Something beyond humiliation and defeat Co...

Crossposted. October 1, 2010. Yesterday, you sat beside me as I cried. Today, there's no one to hold me as I cry. And that is how I know you're still alive. Because every minute of my days, you're a hole in the world, floating softly next to me, filling my dreams and fantasies, and all my waking hours. I feel myself giving slowly in to the pressure. An evil imp insists that I take the plunge, but I know that even as I slice into the blue depths of the pool, there will be no water to caress my sore skin, to soothe the aching pain that afflicts me. What can I say, except that you walked away on a moonlit night? That the strange loud music in the background drowned out the sound of my heart breaking. What can I say, except that I had no choice but to break the circle to keep myself sane? Princesses know the duties they owe State and people. Royalty from around the world courts us with gifts unimaginable, with more flowers than our castles can hold, with more l...

Derivative: product whose value is derived off of one or more basic variables, called underlying assets. Forwards: a customized OTC contract between two parties where settlement takes place on a future date at prices agreed upon today. Swaps: arrangement between two parites to exchange cash flows in the future according to a prearranged formula.             Interest rate swaps             Currency swaps Market players: hedgers speculators arbitrageurs   Tick: minimum size of price change. The market price will change only in multiples of the tick. Lot: aka contract amount – the minimum amount that can be traded The profit or loss associated with the change of one tick = tick x contract amt. Market cycle: the period over which a contract trades. Final settlement date aka value date: last business day of the month – for inter-ban...

Introduction to Currency Derivatives  Foreign Currency (FX) is the value of one country’s currency against that of another. This arises due to the need to exchange from one currency to another during cross-border trade. Gold was used as the benchmark for valuation until the Bretton Woods system was introduced between 1944 and 1971. This system combines the gold method of valuation with a floating rate system . All currencies were pegged to the USD, and the USD was pegged to gold. The US made a guarantee that other central banks can convert their money to USD at any point in time. Countries agreed to maintain the exchange rate in the range of plus or minus 1% of the fixed parity of the US dollar. In this way, the US currency became the dominant currency. Bretton Woods was eventually suspended, with all countries adopting the floating rate system. Developed countries eventually moved to a market determined exchange rate .  Developing countries adopted a system of pegged cu...

Something has been bothering me ever since I found out my sister has gotten an internship at a top tier law firm in Mumbai, and I just realized what. It's about the selfish angle, of course. That nobody could get me the same thing back when it would have probably really helped me. 👅 Now that that's processed and out of the way, I can go back to worrying about whether she'll be able to do alright there. (And also dream about my shiny new job which actually makes me happy, which is more than can be said for getting such an internship - or even a job at a top-tier law firm.) On a related note, I'm glad to see that I'm able to be an enthu cutlet*  despite the depression. The status of the depression has officially been updated from "moderate" to "low." *Slang for "overly enthusiastic in a harmless way"

'Tis that time of the year again, when I must begin to look at houses, consider exams, and a whole lotta other stressful things. It's in times like these that I grind my teeth in frustration at the memes we millennials make to try and get through life. All those digs at boomers and whoever. It feels hopeless that this is all we can do. Or maybe that's just the allergies talking. To me, it feels like a good day to be depressed. (When is it not?) But that being said, I don't want to be depressed today, and  it's one of those days where I can decide whether or not to be. Welcome to the bluh of moderate depression. The thing about moderate depression is that it actually feels lighter to those of us who struggle with severe depression on a regular basis. You actually feel "happy," even though you have no hope, no faith, no strength to do anything except the bare minimum and then lay in bed. Relativistic bullshit at its best. In addition to all of that...

In the aftermath of the latest wave of #MeToo, I saw hundreds of people relive some of the most painful moments of their lives. They did this way out in public, engraving onto the internet memories that many of them would have spent years repressing or avoiding. They wrote it down on social media, knowing that hundreds of screenshots would be taken. And all of us talked about the burden of having to perform our pain in the hopes that something would come of it. Not necessarily justice. But maybe for it to serve as a warning to other people. Perhaps some degree of validation of that pain. A deterrent, that this might stop happening to people. People that try to spread awareness about any sort of pain or marginalization – be it feminist issues, mental health awareness, or caste, gender or sexuality based discrimination – are questioned so hard and so often that they end up having to display their pain so they can be taken seriously. They do this in as harsh a manner as possib...

Depression is a horrible thing. It feels like a literal weight that's pushing you down. And it affects everything you do. Imagine walking down a flight of stairs. It's easy enough for your average, able bodied, uninjured person. Walking up takes a little more energy but it's not something that you would even need to think about. Now imagine doing the same thing while carrying an armchair. Not a chair, not even an office chair, but an honest to goodness armchair. That's what everyday life feels like for someone who has depression. You don't dare put it down either, not for a second, because you just know you won't have the energy to pick it back up. And so it goes. You wake up every day and you have the goddamn armchair to carry around, everywhere you go. And you dread it. You dread getting out of bed, you dread even attempting to do anything. You walk so slowly, stuck under this weight, that half the time you're too late by the time you get where you...

December 19, 2010 The vigil continues As shadows lengthen into nothingness And new sounds from the nightmaster’s jukebox Filter in through the air Calling for some ritual Long forgotten by Day Guarded under moth and owl Keepers of the secret way What wordless magic shimmers Grey against this black backdrop? Luring frail and wayward hearts Into nets woven of the forbidden Deeper ecstasies; a new fantasy The lonely sighs of a broken heart Quiet gasps of laughter All offerings at a sacred fire The fumes from their Sabbath Fashioned into a heady brew Bottled madness and liquid sanity Poison and antidote coupled The vigil continues And I watch the stars come out Pinpricks of hope In a vast night of hate Avenging angels bent On a celestial mission for Love The night rain falls In stinging droplets upon my face Mingling with the tears Of a hundred hopeless nights With the piercing silence Of a screaming heart Fe...

I woke up with a good feeling this morning. The sun shone gently onto my face from behind the curtains. I smiled and turned over, too lazy to get up yet. Strangely, I found another body in my bed. Getting up, I found the love of my life asleep next to me. I gazed at the golden band around my ring finger on the left hand. And then I looked back at the unfamiliar face on the pillow next to mine. Somewhere along the way, those precious years seemed to have disappeared. Last night I fell asleep pining for a soulmate, a love that eluded me yet. And the morning dawned on a new life, and someone I'd never seen before. Was it that all those years, I was so absorbed in the quest that I never saw the many soulmates that I passed by? Was it that I settled down with, and woke up next to, something I was still searching for? I wondered whether I’d made a mistake. Was that why I failed to remember? Was it by some strange act of self defense that I refused to acknowledge that ...

Crossposted from Feminist Quill : June 4, 2017 Title: The Ruby Circle Author:  Richelle Mead Year of Publication:  2015 Series: Bloodlines #: 6 Goodreads Rating (Avg.): 4.22 Goodreads Rating (Mine): 5 Business As Usual for Spoilers I really dislike this cover art version of Sydney. Neither this Sydney, nor this Adrian match how I imagine they look. Plot Description:  A ten book saga winds to a close. Nearly all the pieces are in place, and this thing only needs a bit of basic ass-kicking to seal the deal. Simply put, Sydney, Ms. Terwilliger, Eddie Castile and Adrian go off on a magical scavenger hunt in an attempt to find Jill. And there's a magical baby hogging plot space. I began this blog with Mead's VA universe. And now it's finally coming to a conclusion. All of our favourite heroes have been in on the action for a while now, even though I haven't been giving them any mention in the reviews. Now it's time. Lissa and Christian ...

December 19, 2010 It's another evening And me curled up by the fire The firelight reflected in my eyes Flickers and wavers Giving way to strange stories I smile as my eyes glaze over And a hundred years seem to pass The silence suddenly/ Just at my elbow Something curled up in my lap Like a housecat purrs I stroke it absently and smile As I watch the things that never were There's a pain in the centre of my forehead Right over the frown wrinkle I'm asleep with my eyes wide open I'm dead to the world Even as my hands stroke something Absently, that lies curled up in my lap There's something to be said About these things I see When I'm awake and yet asleep A bit of replay here A bit of fantasy there A sliver of wistful thinking And a song long forgotten A face I've seen many times before In a game I used to play when I was a child All mixed up with the tears I shed My pet curled up in my...

Crossposted. Compose date: September 26, 2010 These things happen.   They’re hard, but we get over it. They're called exams, and they come calling twice every trimester. These other things happen. They’re even harder, but get over it I shall. A drama masquerading as love, which tries to get under my skin, but it too shall go. There is truly something to be said about cutting one's nose off to spite one's face. By now, I’m so used to it that I know the nose will grow back. And if it's a really ugly nose, surely it deserves to be cut off! Then there’s fugliness masquerading as dreams.   They creep about my head all night, and as if that weren't enough, come sit on my open notebook when I desperately need to study. There are these voices I hear in my head at night. Well, not really  in  my head, but at least on the other end of the phone. They're called friends, and they're fun to listen to. Oh, and they like to listen too!!! :) They are t...

Crossposted from Feminist Quill , dated June 4, 2017. Title: Silver Shadows Author:  Richelle Mead Year of Publication:  2014 Series: Bloodlines #: 5 Goodreads Rating (Avg.): 4.37 Goodreads Rating (Mine):  4 I Don't Do Spoiler Free Reviews Plot Description: Sydney has been kidnapped by the Alchemists, the human organization she works for. Their methods for dealing with rogue Alchemists involve imprisonment, torture and brainwashing designed to make their victims more pliable towards their objectives and methods. While she attempts to navigate the various pitfalls of "re-education," Adrian, Jill, Eddie and the rest desperately search for her. Silver Shadows is all action. The only scenes that seem to slow the pace down are - predictably - the ones that involve Adrian's depression following Sydney's kidnapping. Even as she spends months in the dark, resisting torture, Adrian falls off the wagon, spending his days depressed and disoriented. In ord...

Last month, I went for a slew of increasingly exhausting and depressing job interviews. My experiences can be summed up as a combination of "don't want to pay you" and "you're a fresher, you don't have experience in this field." It was irritating to say the least. One encounter that stood out to me was with an HR person at a small financial firm ensconced in a claustrophobic office. I never even spoke with an actual person in the field I'd be working. Just her. She told me flat out that she (they) wouldn't pay more than 16,000/- a month. 🙄 She also questioned me, with great superciliousness, on how "diverse" my CV seemed to be. "I get that you're confused," she told me. "I've been there myself." I looked at the woman in her prim navy blue formals, complete with neatly done hair and polished shoes. (So unlike the chappals I defiantly prefer. And so unlike the faded salwars or tired white shirts the ot...

When my bestie moved to Cambridge this month, she decorated her room with things her friends had written for her. Among the notes was tagged an old mutual friend of ours, (let's call her Y) someone I'd fallen out of touch with since ages. I felt quite sad that she didn't have anything I'd written to put up, and mentioned that. I then ignored all the other weird sensations and attempted to move on. A day or two later, comedian Kaneez Surka wrote about a problematic interaction she'd had with Aditi Mittal. Mittal, a comedian who has emerged in the last few years as a counter to AIB's fanservice "saleable feminism," had kissed the latter onstage without her consent once. She spoke about how it made her feel uncomfortable, and how Mittal had turned "hostile" following that. She requested an apology, which was immediately given. And so slow are our reactions when it comes to uncomfortable transgressions of personal space that it took this inci...

It's 3:30 am, the cats are asleep and I'm going to regret cracking open this second can of soda instead of sleeping. Fact of the matter is, I feel exhausted. I feel very threatened. I feel sad that this is not something half the population can even see, let alone empathize with. So I think, "Hey, it's time to write something nice. Hey, you have five posts to put up so go ahead, write something nice." Well, alright, I'll try. I'll try writing a story about a once upon a time. Once upon a time, there was a cat that ran out into the road and was picked up and taken home. She ate so much food her tummy was perpetually a round little ball. She tried to ride the other cat in the house like he was a horse. She lived up to the name she'd been given: Heda, meaning Commander. Once upon a time, there was a lost kitten, who was drenched in water, alone by the side of the road. She heard the dogs barking as they got closer, but then she was picked up ...