Tag Archives: Ordinary

The Joy of Being the Old School Ordinary Girl

It was in grade 6 when someone talked to me for an hour and said, “you’re really old school, I like it!’. I smirked like a clueless girl – immediately went back home and checked what did ‘old school’ mean. There I was, the most appropriate phrase of the universe was found and every time I had to describe myself I loved saying, I’m an old school person.

Only when I grew up did I realize the true meaning and an invincible joy of being this old-fashioned plain girl. All the fun was in the ordinariness I believed in. While everyone’s hashtags looked like this – #potd, #clubnight, #beachparty, #iphone, #hookingup; mine looked like these – #vintage, #virginiawoolf, #mandalas, #peace, #selflove, #soulmate.

I don’t believe in categorizations, so I won’t say a person who parties won’t read books or someone who hooks up can’t ever fall in love; it’s all possible in a single lifetime but being an old school person I did realize that no matter what, I can’t ever make sense of loud music, some bottles of beers and random people calling it the most fun night of their life. I can’t make sense of people who meet someone for four days – fall in love – there are promises of forever made – for the 100th time in their lives. I can’t make sense of people dressing up all jazzy just to be able to match up the environment you’re going to spend your time in. I can’t make sense of photographs that are clicked not for memories but for hashtags and social media banter. I can’t make sense of reading only terribly tiny tales if you’ve never lived a long story for a few months and then cried like a baby that it’s over.

Old school is not just a tag, it’s a way of life. I did struggle a lot – fitting in, making sense of the new glittery stuff I was introduced to each year, the feeling – that may be I’m just a boring person and each one of them are so cool, but to only end up with the realization – there’s an undeniable hollowness within each of us that could only be filled in with things which are more permanent, promising and real.

~ After all the music in the world, you can’t call it a day without listening to Mohd. Rafi, Farida Khanum or John Lennon, Led Zeppelin

Those funky moves, the bass, hipster lyrics, all the loudness is all fine but where is the solace in music if not in the melodious voice of Rafi or Lata Mangeshkar. Taylor Swift, Adele, Beyonce, Madonna – it’s all good but nothing can match what Pink Floyd or Rolling Stones ever did in the name of music.

True, your playlist is often useless when everyone gathers in a room to have ‘fun’, sorry but not sorry, it’s rather good to fail to call today’s most of Bollywood music – music in real terms. Most of the songs composed and written by classic bands used to be poems sung out loud that meant a whole different world in their heads, today, there’s a single line sung through the whole verse of a song.

May be, their music is trending but your playlist is not less than a friend in solace who shares the little dance you have in your head while listening to songs and feeling a thunderstorm of emotions.
“There’s a lot you can tell about a person from their playlist”

~ A diary and a pen to let your heart out can never be replaced by small iPhone notes.

You love to take out your diary every time a though buzzes in your head and penning it down is such a relief, like you just saved a holy life. As much you love using those diaries, the more you love collecting them – a few with quotes, some with floral designs, a couple of them with plain pages and some small pocket diaries. There’s no end to the stationary you can collect, an ink pen, one pen for each colour that exists, gem studded pen and sometimes a barbie pen is lovely too!

Well, how is it going to be equivalent to a small note typed on an iPhone, even the universe can’t conspire to make a diary lover fall in love with the touch of a phone to let out all the bubbles of poems, stories and journals ensnared within you.

~ You’ll choose one out of hundred thousands and stick to them for a lifetime.

Out of 100 people in a room, you’ll be able to befriend just one or two but the ones who’re your chosen friends, they are the ones you’ll stick by in every situation. They will be the ones who’ll see you crying for food and laughing on the worst jokes – for the life to come.

It’s difficult for you to call someone your friend until you don’t have each other’s updates of personal, professional, emotional, sexual life till date – irrespective of the break in between.

You may or may not have time to hangout or chill but there has to be time to listen to the rants, frustrations and emotional outbreaks of your friend. Worst and best, you cling like a true friend in need because may be you know as an old school person, heart can love just a few, too dearly and truly.

Though, I do not intend to say people who’re not old school, aren’t loyal friends but old school is a lot about – ‘one woman man/one man woman.’

~ Before you choose your kind of people, it might take days, months and years – just to be sure.

You are like the most innocent breathing, almost invisible, mammal on earth who’s nothing to do with the human species all around and is so sufficient within oneself that friendship and relationships are just an added bonus that happen by chance – naturally and effortlessly.

You believe in serendipity instead of making things happen just because there should be a social circle. You’ll take days before you can believe in the friendships that happen to cross your way and you need to feel the most comfortable and accepted – including your flaws.

~ There’s a perennial flow of philosophical thoughts in all situations in life.

You can’t stop being a philosophy freak. Food, drives, films, music, games, books, outings, furniture everything has a philosophy and you feel a little more elated when you can share it with people and even more elated if people can make sense of all of your philosophies.

Everything needs to be sensible and reasonable, jokes included. They make you the person you are, the lessons that you learn in life, you start echoing them each day to make your life and the life of your near and dear ones better.

~ You’re a die heard fan of vintage stuff, be it typewriter, fountain pens, kanjeevarams, phulkari dupattas or a polka dot skirt.

Trends are the most useless things to follow for you. There are things which are universal and evergreen and picking them up is your unconscious choice. No matter how much you try to experiment and add colours and versatility to your closet or collections, you can’t stop running back to the vintage for all the glory and glamour in life.

Those Pinterest and Tumblr images with antique stationery, silk threads and picturesque golden black combinations are your weaknesses and you dream of spaces in a single theme, that is vintage.

~ You love writing letters, journals and making handmade cards to show affection and love.

There’s nothing that can suffice enough your emotions as much as a letter. Though mostly you might end up writing these letters to your own self because you adamantly believe no one knows the worth of them as much as you do.

Gifts are gifts but a handmade card does all the heart melting for you. Someone’s emotions penned down in pictures, words is a golden effort to win your heart.

You also collect all these letters carefully to make sure you can one day open your box of treasure and relive many memories in a single moment.

There’s a lot more that can be added to the world of an old school soul. They feel years older than the rest of the people around them and proudly so.

They grow up with a sense of mystic and it’s harder for them to fit in and make way for the things they want to do and the lives they want to lead but they hardly give up and become who they believe they really are, by heart and soul.

This article was featured on Filtercopy first.

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Love of the ordinary

There’s so much love
in the patience of
ordinary things;
Paintings on the wall,
street light on a forgotten road,
old yellow papers in a file,
wires stretched over small houses all alike,
soaps dry and water drains everyday,
our hands, our feet go wherever
we take.
Curtains pulled off, hanged up like labels for decoration
decided merely for colors.
Books in a book shelf laid for life
decided merely for how our hearts feel.
Newspapers made, read, unread, wrapped around yellow stained things, thrown
and again
made, read, unread, wrapped
and thrown
for years unknown.
Smells, shapes, sizes
shoes, clothes in our closets.
And our skins
when do they change,
except for rot with our age?
How sky repeats through
every inch of this universe,
blue and vast.
And what’s more lovingly patient
than the birds that sing
the same song every dawn
on the same branch
of the same tree?
~P