Lights. Camera. RCNM.

  A Long Way To Go Having made peace with myself, I began to accept the fact that no matter what I did and how I did it, I would always rank somewhere in the middle. There were days when I'd get compliments for my otherwise mediocre performances. One would think it was a sign that my work had improved but the only thing I could see was pity in the eyes of people who wished for nothing but success and growth in my life, which even today seems like a long shot. More often than not, I'd pay no heed to their compliments because being appreciated for something you know you're absolutely no good at, makes you feel more worthless than you would care to admit.  There was a time when I would crack a joke or two after they'd praised me. And somehow, that became my whole life, mocking myself every step of the way. Saying it helped me to cope with the frustration of not being good enough, would be an outright lie. Using self-deprecating humour was nothing but a defence mechanism

                              Muting the chaos I remember being 11 and my parents getting me enrolled in the school’s basketball team. Even now when I think about it, the only thing that comes to my mind is, "Everyone is doing something in their life, you should, too." However, much like my interest in politics, my liking for sports was short-lived and not because I disliked the idea of sports but because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t be even half as good as anyone else. Growing up, I realised that this shortcoming didn’t just apply to sports but to every single thing I had done and continued to do. Singing, dancing, writing, playing the guitar and sports like basketball, hockey, and badminton are only but a few of the many interests that I pursued over the years. But be it studying, dancing, writing or even something as simple as communicating, I was either second best or second to last. For someone who has tried her hand at so many activities, not being good at any