SimplyJITH turns 5!

Dear Friends,

As we enter into our 5th year, I wish to thank each and everyone who was with us, all through since our inception in 2006. It has been an exciting journey, as we grew from being an entity on blogging space at start, to a collection of ventures now...which includes a blog, a graphic design activity group and a youth partnership grant schematic to support talented entrepreneurs from Africa. 

It gives me pleasure to report that SimplyJITH Blog which remains our flagship project, now enjoys readership in around 158 countries, with over 32,000 subscribers from various countries. In line with our attempts to be a helping hand to the Generation Next, and to lend a friendly support to facilitate the flowering of immense potential that every youth has, in order to successfully navigate through the turbulent and disaster-prone, yet very promising period of youth and beyond, we will soon be launching SimplyJITH Character Institute. Through talks and interactive sessions, we wish to engage youth in a  meaningful dialogue to understand their aspirations and themselves better. 

Further, I am happy to introduce our new logo for SimplyJITH brand which is designed by our branding partner Dhatri Advertising Private Limited, I hope you will like it! I hope SimplyJITH will continue to enjoy your support and best wishes in the future as well. 

With warm regards,

SimplyJITH

My Shadow's Sweat

Dear Dad, 

Today, I wish to record my learning, as I stood by the doorway of my memory, and observed all the events from the past year cross by, in a single file. Shadows are not mere coincidences, and I believe they are not just a reflection of our bodily selves, but also our souls. As our lives are unfolding before us, emotions stand to be eternal and so are our shadows. 

As we live through various memories, our actions and emotions; we earn experience, and learn more about others, and ourselves. One's shadow reflects their learning, with each of their actions filling in a shade to their shadow...and it leaves its trail on our life. 

A mere thought alone, brings glory and utmost bliss to me, and life seems to smile back. When I think of that memory: looking at me in my eyes, saying just that, what I wanted to hear; my life seems to have been rewarded. I stand here to understand the actuality of this emotion.

Destiny creates drama when it wants you to know so, else you may lead an ignorant life until death. I seek to forgive and forget, for when I close my eyes now, those memories relax my soul. I would want to meet again, no matter, whenever that happens. I shall omit all rules in such a possibility...

If I know of love, I know of how you did...I believe; it was no ordinary an emotion. Let the destiny know how strong our connection is. My Shadow carries your scent, and without you, I do not enjoy the sweat of my shadow anymore.

Yours...

Abhijith

  

Written on my flight to Lucknow - 22nd Jan 2011

Failure...

Failure... for most of us goes beyond being just a word. Sometimes, it is important that we stop giving words more power than they truly deserve. I wish to speak about my observations/ways to transform oneself from being someone who is struggling with a fear of failure into a confident being. 

For an unsuccessful being, everyone around seem to be frustrated with him/her as he/she was always trying, but never saw anything go through, because once he/she started, he/she became paralyzed with fear that he/she would fail. I sympathize with this anxiety about failure. In my experience, it is quite common to be worried about failure and the idea of disappointing others, so it helps to address it. 

There is a necessity, not to give more weight to words than that they truly deserve. To me, it is impossible to fail. You can't even call it bad decision-making. You make a decision, evaluate it based on what happens, and then make another decision based on the results. If something doesn't work out, you learn as much as you can from it and either find a better way to do it or do something else. That is all you can do.

There are two possible ways of looking at it. Either allow the negative results of your decisions (your "failures") to knock you down and keep you from trying anything new, or you begin to count your failures as successes. If you think about it, it makes perfect sense to look at the plans that don't work as a positive, because they usually direct us off in another direction. And there is always the possibility that the new direction will provide the results we are seeking.

Behind every failure is the potential for success, and if we give up too soon, we may never know what wonderful thing we could have accomplished. There is a story involving Edison, which illustrates this point perfectly. At one point Thomas Edison was supposedly asked by a reporter how it felt to have experienced 1,000 failures in inventing his light bulb, and the inventor allegedly replied, "I have not failed 1,000 times. I have successfully discovered 1,000 ways to not make a light bulb." Can you imagine what life might be like if Edison had given up on the first try?

Plan and try... and believe that failure is just one learning step in life, while Success is only one step away.

‘T-issue’: Trust Issue (Part -1)

Note: This blog post is a short story, presented in two capsules. The present blog post presents the first half of the short story. 

Everyone has their own story to narrate, and I have mine. I am a Tissue, and this is my story...I come soaked in rose water with scented fragrance, packaged in a thin plastic wafer…tear along its serrations and I am ready for use.

Today, I want to share my story. A story, that was far different from what my peers were used for. A couple of months ago, I was born in a small factory on the west coast, and I was shipped to mid-west, and was stacked along with others from my fraternity…ready for sale. While waiting to be picked up, I heard from other tissues around me, that most of the time we are used to carry the dirt and grease that our owners greedily wish to get rid of; of course no one really knew their definite use.

One day, I was pushed onto the front row, since others ahead of me were picked up. A lady, probably in her mid 20’s, lean and short with long hair…talking on her phone, pushed me and a couple others into her cart, in a rush and dragged on. As I sat on the upper clip of the cart, I started to notice my owner. A wheat complexioned young woman, dark brown eyes and black curly hair (straight at the roots) falling down on her shoulders. She was on the phone all through with her mushy talk, until she reached the billing desk. She said a sweet bye, and flipped her phone. As the guy on the other side of the counter, started to tag each item in her cart, she had an innocent face with a mischievous smile…and started to flirt with him. I was put into a shopping bag, and I never knew what happened after that, until I was pulled out from it and put in a container on the bathroom rack along with others.

Every night, she carried the container into the living room, and placed it beside herself. She cried, mostly aloud and in silence at times. Day after day, me along with others, waited patiently, listening to her, seeing her cry, until we were picked up. We could do nothing, except for feeling sorry for her…and helping her in our role, in a small way. I always believed that, my job was of a noble doing, since I was of some help to someone to let go their dirt, grease or may be their grief too. As we sat in the container, I wondered what event put my owner through such turmoil, that she needed us, ones with fragrance to comfort her, rather than our peers who came without any fragrance, and as I was told earlier were more suited for her need.

One day, she came running towards the rack, picked up our container and ran into the living room. She emptied our container, and all of us fell to the floor. Today her emotions were out of control, far worse than usual and she was weeping probably from long. She picked up one of us closer to her reach, and pulled out the tissue frantically and wiped her eyes and face clean. As she bundled up our friend into a rag-ball and threw it onto the ground, I heard a faint shout from it, “Her Soul smells worse, more than what I could handle with my fragrance… may be I am the worst used in my community”.

She hurried into picking us one after the other, and yet her grief had no end. After a while, she got up and looked around to find a letter that was crippled. She picked it up, and sat down on the floor closer to me….

… to be continued.

Place: Giza, Egypt 

Date: 7th Jan 2011