City of Stars

City of Stars

*city of stars playing in the background*

 

I often go out on long walks;

palms a little sweaty

skies a little starry.

On nights like these

I often miss:

eyes to drown in

palms to fit it

lips to lock in.

I haven’t understood love

ever.

It has been like a foreign language to me.

I see people conversing in them; effortlessly.

And here I am,

a little too impatient,

a little too prone to

lose things in translation.

But on nights like these;

I am a little hopeful,

a little naïve.

I am blind to love.

Deaf to languages.

Scared to admit.

 

But on nights like these;

I am a little hopeful,

a little naïve.

So, appear.

I will be out on the walks

for quite some time.

Even a fortnight (If it comes that).

I still don’t understand love.

It is still like a foreign language to me.

But when you come,

I will raise my hand,

Leave messages on these stars

(that people write on rocks)

in dots and dashes – the way my heart

skips beats when I see you.

and hopefully,

you will know morse.

The prompt was "Night sky, the moon, stars, and of a romantic tone" given by Nivid Desai.
If you want a custom poem typed on a typewriter; submit a prompt by clicking here

Featured Artwork by Aditi Shastry. To see more of her work check out her Instagram
The girl who loved the oceans

The girl who loved the oceans

It was said that she used to carry

every favourite memory

with her; in a clenched fist.

every favourite thing

on her shelf.

and I would ask,

Where are the oceans

that you love with all your heart?

She would say

“Look into my eyes, silly”

And, I would drown.

Every

Single

Time.

Why Sarahah works.

Why Sarahah works.

Quite recently we have found our timelines flooded with screenshots and status’ about sarahah.com. A few months ago a similar wave was created by famously infamous sayat.me

For a week I have been trying to avoid sarahah and go seek attention and validation in the conventional way – social media platforms.

Well, that’s true. No? Isn’t the core intent of a boomerang, an Instagram Story, a Facebook Live, A Hashtag, A Snapchat message, A YouTube video, to seek attention? Isn’t that the purpose of social media? To spread moments all across the web so that they can trace back to you and form an image of you (that you want)?

I am not at all saying that it is a bad thing. (It could be though).

While platforms like Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat, etc indirectly cater to the need of validation and attention; platforms like sayat.me, sarahah.com, AskFm (I don’t know much about this though) directly scraps the BS and puts forth the naked need of validation. No?

I was sipping coffee today (trying very hard not to put an Instagram story about it) and thinking of why these platforms work. If you are unsure if it works or not; here’s some data:

 

sarahah- google trends

Note the surge in search for sayat.me and sarahah.com in past 90 days. There are multiple instances where sayat.me has surpassed twitter.com and almost has more hits than Instagram.

 

And sarahah.com clearly wins the race (atleast for past week).

Moreover, it has 5 Million downloads on Play Store.

So the question comes (as obvious as it can get) –

Why is it so popular?

With some time on my hand, need for attention and some curiosity – I decided to write about it albeit give my opinion on it.

Here are a couple of reasons:

 

  • Anonymous Opinions FTW!

When someone we can see, stalk (over social media) and interact with, gives us feedback, we instantly co-relate that opinion to their personality traits and their image that we have built up in our minds.

The importance of an opinion is always measured on a scale of how much value that person holds in your life.  We know for a fact that opinions are always measured on a relative scale. Scale being the person’s competency on that matter.

To simplify this – I would take the opinion of an established writer on my poetry more seriously than I would take a 10-year-old kid’s opinion.

Now, with anonymous comments; the scale disappears. We don’t have a scale to measure how much that person matters to us.

Hence, we treat anonymous opinions with utmost urgency. Which is why we give a LOT of fuck about what they say. Which is why we share those opinion and justify ourselves. See, the point is that with that we risk tearing the mask we have so carefully stitched. But we still do it because, for all we know, these could be the very people for whom we wore the mask in the first place.

What I mean is,

ANONYMOUS OPINIONS CREATE URGENCY.

 

  • The Bandwagon Effect

The bandwagon effect is a phenomenon whereby the rate of uptake of beliefs, ideas, fads and trends increases the more that they have already been adopted by others. In other words, the bandwagon effect is characterized by the probability of individual adoption increasing with respect to the proportion who have already done so. As more people come to believe in something, others also “hop on the bandwagon” regardless of the underlying evidence.

The tendency to follow the actions or beliefs of others can occur because individuals directly prefer to conform, or because individuals derive information from others. Both explanations have been used for evidence of conformity in psychological experiments.

What I believe is that it is also an extension of Fear of Missing Out. I think the Bandwagon Effect in this case also works because the need for staying relevant is too damn huge. (I could be wrong)

I am unsure of how much important the feedback is to people or how much it affects them. I have personally come across a lot of people are really bothered about these are going out of the line to justify themselves.

All that this is doing is feeding the need of giving a fuck. And guess what ya’ll? We do. We do give a fuck.
Which is why this works.

Peace out.

 

P.S. These are totally my beliefs. I am open to your views on this. Let me know what you think. And if you want to do so anonymously; here: adityamankad.sarahah.com (touché)

Blur

Blur

Imagine a Grand Prix.
Final lap.
Cars rushing like meteors.
Crashing and Burning,
Twisting and Turning.
That’s how thoughts run
in this tiny head on mine.
That’s the anatomy of the
mind of an over-thinker.
Like auto-correct suggestions
on a keypad;
we think of possibilities.
Like fishing with a thousand
hooks;
we pluck probabilities.
We don’t carry a halo
on our heads.
We carry a blur on our faces.
No No No No No,
We aren’t the faceless.
We are just looking at the
processes running in the background.
Nothing surprises us.
What you are thinking
is already been thought
when we were thinking of
what you will think
when we tell you what we
think when you think of
what we are thinking.

Mind-fuck?
Yes,
That’s our perpetual state
of being.

 

Featured Image captured and edited by @icapturethee

Vials

Prompt: The day you realized that your parents aren’t superheroes.

 

The first thing my parents would do after waking up everyday
was to shut the vials of emotions with a cork.
And they would cross-check it,
equal to the number of times
they would have chai.

Thrice.

Sometimes more on bad days.

Little did they know that vials are made up of glass
and
glasses
break.

So, in anxiety one day when my mother pressed the cork
a little to hard;
The emotions came flooding out
like rays of light through rain cladded clouds.

My father?
No, his vials had a lining of patriarchy
that made it more durable.
His vials had oceans of emotions.
A river came pouring in with
every tear drop that never got out.
And on some nights the oceans would sway,
failing to keep a wreckage at bay.
But the most damage they could do,
was let out a thin stream rolling down his cheek
on cozy nights when no one was watching.

See, I was led to believe that my parents are superheroes.
And that they are right. Always.

See, my parents were led to believe that I am to be protected.
And that the vials are meant to be shut.

But they are wrong, sometimes.
I never needed saviours, ever.

They are just humans.
And that’s enough.

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