The art of procrastination-II

So, you are probably reading this as an excuse to not to do what you are really supposed to do. But you made a good decision. Because today we are going to learn how to put this habit to our advantage.

In my last article I mainly talked about how procrastination is not the nuclear bomb you think it to be but it’s merely a bomb you use during Diwali. It might have a life changing effect but that effect may not be adverse. That effect could be marvelous!

Before we move on any further I am about to go into my research.



Well, I know it’s hard to believe but I did a little research on procrastination while I was procrastinating.

(Putting my habit to my advantage like I said.)

I was trying to find the answer of why I procrastinate. And I came across many general reasons for why people procrastinate but the answer to why I procrastinate goes something like this-

Three reasons mainly-

  • I am a perfectionist!

How so?

I want things to be so perfect, so good from the very beginning that I am not able to begin at all.

Say you want to read a book..

Now you want perfect conditions.

You want a big window..

You want mountains and waterfalls that you could stare at from your big window.

You want a fluffy and heavenly soft pillow to support your spine as you gaze the big mountains and waterfalls from your big beautiful window.

You want to sip on a delicious hot coffee as you read the book sitting with heavenly soft pillow and staring at the big mountains and the waterfalls from your big beautiful window.

Result: You never read,

I admit that I am a hopeless perfectionist.( But I am working on it )

  • Lack of self confidence.

The thing that I am supposed to do, I am not going to be able to do anyway. So why bother doing.

Psychology is simple.

But the question is -why am I never confident?

Because I am in vicious cycle.

At first I try doing something.

I fail. I am not up to the mark.

I am like- Okay! I will try better next time.

I try to try but being a procrastinator I am, my trying to make an effort prove worthless.

And I fail again.

I want to be good. I want to try harder. But now I believe that it’s of no use.

I procrastinate. I fail. So, I am less confident. So, I procrastinate. So, I fail. So, I am lesser confident. Therefore, I procrastinate. And then I fail. And hence I am least confident. So, I procrastinate. Then, I fail. Now, I am less than least confident.

See? Cycle never ends.


  • Lack of passion.

I don’t like doing what I am supposed to do. So, I don’t do it.

Why am I not passionate?

Because I am confused. I am trying to do what I am supposed to do. Clearly, I don’t do it because I don’t want to do it. But I still want myself to want to do it because I don’t know what else to do.

The sentence is complex but psychology is simple.

I am not passionate about electrical engineering. So, I never touch the book.

I love reading novels. I do touch them. A lot.


I am not confident. I am not passionate. Where the hell is my life going?

Towards procrastination.


Procrastination; befriending the naïve devil.


I know I won’t be able to read power system tonight because I just can’t do it. I am likely to procrastinate and I can’t stop it.

SO, what should I do?

I could watch a movie. I could talk with walls. I could speculate jumping out of the window.

But no, I decide to write.

I didn’t want to write. But somehow I bring myself to do it. Yeah… I waste some time along with it. But I come down to writing. I make myself come down to writing.

I have found a way to be more productive while I am procrastinating. I have to prepare for my exams, for job interviews for god knows what not. I am not doing any of those but I am procrastinating while I am writing on procrastination like an idiot.

This is the art of procrastination.

Find out your real passion. Find your hobby about which you are so passionate, so passionate, so so passionate that even you yourself can’t bring yourself to not to do it.

You like reading books. No.

Do you LOVE reading books?

Then, read books! Read websites. Build economy. World needs a lot of readers.

The more the better.

You like watching movies. Good. Watch.

Watch in different languages. Watch documentaries. Watch all types of movies. Hold a record. You will have more knowledge in world than anyone else. (No, book readers will probably beat you.)

You like painting. Go ahead do it.

DO what you want to do. Don’t misuse your time “trying to do what you are supposed to do” and then end up doing nothing. You are trying to study but you end up fantasizing about you and Brad Pitt alone doing guchi goo on a secluded island. That’s a marvelous dream but it’s an ultimate misuse of time. Waste your time instead. Do what you are not supposed to. Openly. That’s the art of procrastination.

Mastering your other skills while you are trying to master one.

That’s the art of procrastination.

So, if you are procrastinator, no not just a procrastinator, a good *structured procrastinator do you know how much gifted you are?

You get to master so many skills say, *secondary skills at the same time! Secondary or not.. Skills are always important.

(Readers! The asterisk thingy simply mean that the terms are better explained in the glossary below.

I have included a glossary in my post! I am being lame but I just gotta do it- self five!)

self five(pointno4)

So, don’t drown yourself in depression.

Stop it. You are sad? You are miserable? Shut up. That’s bullshit and you know it.

Don’t promise yourself that you won’t procrastinate anymore. Because again that’s bullshit and you know it. It’s your initial phase of procrastination.

What you can instead do is to procrastinate.

But procrastinate better.

And that’s the art of procrastination.

Signing off with hope to improve my life,



P.S. Okay, this is sorta out of the world thingy-

Like what you read? You have got curious? Google this man; John Perry. He is my hero. ❤ And that’s the guy I stole the name of this post from.



  • Structured procrastination- I think John Perry can explain you better.
  • Secondary skills- the skills that you never thought you could build and though you were passionate about them but you never gave a shit before)






Finally home!

So, here lies the answer of how we finally got home.

A little precap;

Last time you checked we had landed on the Vadodara station. Our tiring journey from Delhi to Vadodara had finally come to an end.

(^To know more details you can read this- What the hell is she talking about?)

But the movie had not ended.

Our destination was Surat, not Vadodara.

We had this general ticket. And even though it takes just about two hours to reach Baroda by train, the prospect of getting into the heavily crowded bogie with our heavy luggage was giving us goose flesh.

But quite bravely, first we did try to sit in a general bogie.

However, the bogie we considered as general was not really general. It was reserved for army and people related to army.

So, when we tried to get in, we were, in simple words, thrown out.

Three individuals who looked hopelessly tired and worn out in every freaking possible way and all these “army” people had got to say was- “Get out off our bogie!”

What kind of army were they if they couldn’t help out a fellow civilian!

Shame on them!

But god was smiling on us from above.

A much more comfortable journey was waiting for us.

And I am glad that we didn’t get into that bogie. Those army people can go fuck themselves ( I have never said this before but I think I will mention it once hoping that it would be enough for all my previous and upcoming posts- “Pardon my language. I swear a little when I write but I can’t help it. )

So, the train we had almost boarded departed. But there was another train that was about to depart soon. What we did was -we sort of bribed the TT, requested him to give us seats if they were available. (We here mostly consists of my brother and sister, I was just a silent spectator the whole time)

As it turned out, the seats were indeed available. And we got to travel the ending two hours of our journey breathing the cool conditioned air.

Of course, we had to pay for that but okay we were happy.

Money CAN buy happiness. Don’t let anyone tell you different.

So, this was how the battle ended and a new era had begun in my life. New era is not an exaggeration or just something that I used as a comic literary tool. No, I meant it.

The train journeys will never be the same again.

The Patna City will be never be the same again.

My sister’s life (and mine and my whole family’s life as well) will never be the same again.

It is indeed the dawn of a new era.

And adding cherries on the top is this year…

This year; Oh! It has been a mother of changes! And not just this year, my whole college life (so far) has been dynamic in a way I had never imagined it to be. Of course, I had dreamed of a huge, humungous group of cool kids that I would hang out with. A trip every weekend or every month. Party every night. Amazing hostel life. Countless love affairs. (Oh! why not confess it?) And even with all that I would somehow, be a good student with a future (as bright as sun) as a good engineer.

None of that shit happened.

None of that shit is going to happen.

What happened instead was something I could have never seen coming.

People changed, Circumstances changed, Thoughts changed, Dreams changed, Beliefs changed.

And I never got to be cool.

I never got to be smart.

I never got to be a hero. (I never wanted to anyway)

I never got to be a bitch. (I badly wanted to be a bitch. Being bad is so cool!)

I never got to be what I wanted to be.

But what I got to be is someone whom I had never imagined before;


Who would have thought?

Ask the 5 year old me about how I see my life fifteen years later and you will know the difference.

And that five year old me is sitting right next to me asking- Who are you?

They are not kidding when they say that college is all about discovering yourself. Three years and I already do not recognize myself.

I have finally discovered it.

I have been too busy screaming sitting on the roller-coaster rides to realize that what I have wanted all along is something quite different from what I wanted myself to want. Who would have thought?

And that is why a new era has begun.

An era wherein I am not somebody’s daughter, not somebody’s sister, not somebody’s student, not somebody’s friend, not somebody’s “utopian vision” but me.

But me.

I hear some of my friends telling me their amazing tales of their awesome happening college life. Until now I was envious as I had found mine quite boring and dull and undesired. But not anymore. My life is not stagnant. It’s always changing.

It’s ALWAYS changing.

I have wasted too much of time not realizing that.

So, here comes a new sun. A sun filled with hope, with new dreams and a new life.

And a new era dawns in my life.

If you have been traveling pretty much the same path as mine then I suggest that you stop now and look back. I hope you will see the things that I have seen.

I hope you see the five year old you standing there barely recognizing you.

Talk to him. Listen to him and you will know the difference.


Anyhow, I was finally in Surat I guess. And the Patna chronicles, hereby, ends.

Of course, there should a special edition covering my sister’s wedding out pretty soon. But I can’t say. I don’t usually get to know the stuff I am going to write about until I am writing it. And when occasionally I do, I don’t write it at all.

So, would I really be writing the tale of my sister’s wedding?

We will find out later.

Anyway, back at the topic of my return journey.

The term battle is undoubtedly a little exaggerated for that but traveling such long distances in India is indeed a very painful task.

And it might not be a battle but it is close enough. Therefore, when we finally reached home I did find my inner peace.

Of course, it got lost again pretty soon.

But it was good to be back home.

It is good to be back home.

Though it is a completely different story that now I am pushed into another battle ground but I think that’s just life and the point is -this story has come to an end.

The conclusion being; my vacation has been quite memorable. How about yours?

Signing off,



The general bogie

So, now we are in Delhi. And quite far away from Patna but the ghosts haven’t left us alone. We have missed our train. And we need to reach Surat.

But how?

Well, here’s how…

The general Bogie tragedy


Since getting an AC/ sleeper bogie train ticket a day before is as good as winning a lottery in India, we know that our journey can’t possibly be comfortable.

That’s another Impossible that doesn’t say I’m possible.

We could go by flight but then that would have led us to Bankruptcy.

So, here’s what we do; we decide to go by general bogie. If you are an Indian, then this statement would have brought tears in your eyes. And if they haven’t then your heart is made of stone.

Fourteen hours journey in a general bogie; Oh! My sad little life.

But by this time god has softened a bit on us. When we boarded the train at New Delhi Station, it was pretty much empty and we got seats quite easily.

But General Bogie is so crowded that even if you are sitting comfortably on the seat, you can’t really be comfortable. And then there is always that one person around you who would make you consider the possibility of jumping off the train immediately over and over again.

And in our case, we had many.

  • You-mess-with-us and you-are-dead family

These were a bunch of small vendors. They shipped goods from Delhi to Goa and sold it there. And hence they had a lot of luggage.

They entered the train and almost immediately we hear the heated altercation between the “meals on wheels” food vendor and them which was pretty much regarding their heavy luggage.

The meals guy wanted space for his own items and this luggage family were adamant to make a deal mostly because;

A. They couldn’t. They had so much luggage that even after stuffing them under the seats of various compartments ( wherever there was space) and filling up the whole entrance area, one could find the toilet door jammed with their remaining items.

B.They liked quarreling. They just did.


  • I-would-make-your-ears-bleed woman.

This woman had a valid point in getting heated by the way the other woman beside her was sleeping. But what made this woman irritating was that she kept shouting and cursing even after the matter was long gone resolved.

She wouldn’t just shut up.


These are the most common kind of people you find in a general bogie. On their defense, I would just like to say that maybe they lose it because they must be pretty darn tired and irritated.


But then, these people are the exact reason why the other people around get pretty darn irritated and tired.


  • I-would-marry-the-seat guy

I have seen people quarreling over seats before but this person, Oh! he takes it to another level. Not only did he quarrel over  the seat, he also sat on the children who were sitting on the seat he wanted. He gets slapped, he gets cursed at but no! Nothing can stop him from getting that seat.


Ultimately, I think another guy offered him his seat and the matter got settled but the Academy award winning scene he created is going to stay on my mind forever.


From the early morning to the night, we kept sitting and sitting and sitting.

The hot winds continued to kiss our faces but what could we possibly do to stop it? Our skin was covered by thick layer of dust and sweat. We were hungry and thirsty and so freaking tired. We had spent our whole previous night on the station. I did not even have a novel that could give me refuge in its arms. I had already read the two novels that I had brought.

Traveling in train (that too in general bogie) is adventure in its own. And I don’t think I remember the numerous times I have travelled in AC bogies but I am going to remember this journey.

India is a huge country. And traveling from one place to another has always been quite a problematic issue. You want comfort, then you gotta loosen your pockets. You want to save money, you gotta loose comfort. The number of passengers is augmenting day by day. The number of trains we have is not enough.

And still somehow, Indian railways always manage to be at loss. The prices of the train tickets get hiked every year and traveling becomes costlier and costlier.

And I have no idea why I am writing all this.

My point being; I had a painful journey back home.

And it wasn’t over yet.

The train we boarded did not have a stoppage at Surat. And so we had this task of boarding another train from Vadodara to Surat.

And most probably again in general bogie.

And this time we knew that we wouldn’t find a single seat to sit. And with the kind of luggage we had, it could prove fatal.

So, did we make it to our home alive?

To find out whether I am writing this from heaven or not, you can read –

Patna Chronicles;Dawn of a new era -The fourth and the final part of Patna Chronicles series.


P.S.The general bogie tragedy has nothing to do with Patna but I still connect the city to it because if our train hadn’t got late then we would have had a comfortable journey back to home.

Confessions of a little sister

Disclaimer; This is a continuation of Patna chronicles; the battle begins

The pre-battle scenario was pretty much the same as it always is. There was sadness, sorrow. People wanted to escape and the battle seemed inevitable. But here is how the brave ones live; they would rather embrace death than live in misery.

Of course, the people, the misery, the sorrow all rested in the heart of a woebegone individual that I would refer as “me”.

But what had made this person miserable?

Her sister’s marriage.

Maybe partly she was sad because the festive fragrance in the air had gone and her normal life was going to be back on track.

Maybe she was sad because Patna might have made her miss Surat but the truth was Surat was all set to haunt her even more. (The college, the studies, the career and Oh! her sad little confused mind! All were waiting for her back in her home)

But mostly she was sad because she missed her sister very badly.

So much that her heart ached just by hearing her name.

But what had led to this sudden missing thingy?

Her sister had not been living with her for quite some time. And the sometime here means years. She had never missed her sister so badly before (except when she left home for the first time). So, why now?

Why now?


Because all these years, she had known that her sister was her sister. She will go away and she will always come back home.

And now suddenly her sister was somebody’s wife. She will go away and she might not come back home.

I wish she could explain what vast difference these two sentences made but she can’t.

I think she lacks appropriate words to describe and more importantly she lacks a little freedom of speech here.

(^For the uncensored version, read her personal diary. But since that is not quite feasible so we would just leave it a mystery)

The pre-battle scenario was pretty much a mysterious blend of tears of joys and sorrows. Since my joy retention capability sucked in a most pathetic way, all I was left with was sadness.

And I confess my heart was aching. I confess my eyes were swollen because of crying every night. I wanted to shout at some people. I wanted to curse them in the most merciless way. But I couldn’t.

Sadness is an odd mixture of anger and sorrow. Two of the most powerful emotions in the world.

The question of how a simple amateur emotion like happiness combats with these two is something that I will never be able to understand.

It somehow reminds me of the famous Hollywood movie – Baby’s day out.

But anyway, has anyone ever been able to prevent the inevitable?

And I am sure my heart was, in fact, is exaggerating the situation. Marriage is a happy thing! Heart! Stop being such a party pooper!


Oh! Heart! Silently swallow your pain, don’t let it show again!

Eyes have swelled and weakened, don’t let them rain again!

I am sure hope stays nearby! He will buy you a smile,

Till then have a fake one! I am sure it will last some miles.


I know you won’t believe but what could have been done?

How in hell, in the midnight, could you bring up the sun?

And the night is not that dark, see how the stars shine?

So, sit here, shut your mouth, don’t let me hear you whine!


I am sure Optimism is busy, got her kids to drop to school,

But heart! She is our neighbor; she will come back soon,

And I know Hope is a loner, wanders from streets to streets,

But being the foodie that he is, he will come back to eat!

And love never dies, the eldest vampire we know,

With the constant need of blood you pump where else can he go?

So, what is it you fear, bud? They all are there with you,

It’s a bright sunny day out here, don’t sit back there in blue…


And with that Signing off,


P.S. To read the next part of this series, you may click here; Patna Chronicles- the battle continues

Patna, the Hotel California

If this has got you thinking in any way that I am going to compare Bihar with California, then just grab a gun and kill me. Ping me on facebook and I will give you my full address and the right time when you can break into my house and do the honors. I will leave the doors open. And my last wish probably will be to let me listen to Coldplay. Any of their songs will do, but if you play the songs of Ghost stories then I will be grateful (I haven’t got enough of that album).

But apart from discussing my murder and last wishes plans, I have a lot to tell you and one blog post is not going to be enough. So, this is part one of my PATNA CHRONICLES series – PATNA CHRONICLES; The battle begins. And it is going to about (as the title suggests) this city named Patna.

So, lets get started!

Patna is one of the most ancient cities of India and it is a great city to remember but for all the wrong reasons…
Which, by the way, are…

What gives me right to bitch about this city is the fact that I have been there and secretly found it amazing as well. Non-Biharis and Biharis but Never-been-to-Bihar Biharis are, in my opinion, simply not eligible to comment about this state. And the reason behind this is that their opinions are quite ridiculously based on stereotypes and their own imaginations.So, if this post hurts anyone in anyway (which I don’t think it should) then, don’t spit on me and show me how dearly you love your motherland. We are on the same page; I am just a little less of a patriot. But I love this place in my own way.)

Patna and the traffic tragedy

We have got a train that departs at seven in the evening and we reached Patna at around 3.
Well, we ALMOST reached Patna around three.
Oh! The difference one small little word can make!
Patna has been blessed by the great river -Ganga. It embraces it like a mother meeting her son after a long long time. And who wouldn’t appreciate that! This river pumps blood into this city. But this great river has a great bridge over it named Gandhi Setu. And this bridge, built over one of the greatest rivers of the world, sadly is the greatest tragedy that could ever befall on the face of humanity.

It was designed by the same person who built Guantanamo Bay.

I am telling you, it is indeed that torturous.We were stuck there for three freaking hours and that too because we were in luck. I am not afraid of death anymore but I am afraid of bad luck. Because if good luck means those three and the half hours then I can’t even imagine what  bad luck can be!

When I called Gandhi Setu Bridge great, I wasn’t just using the adjective as sarcasm. It once indeed used to be the longest bridge in Asia. It is 5.5 km long! You don’t come across a bridge this long quite often! Though yes, nowadays, it suffers through a horrible fate. It is supposed to be a two way bridge and at some point it cease to be one because you know one of its incoming lane is a little broken. And by a little broken, I mean like a whole part of bridge is missing there. And that is where the tragedy befalls. Obviously.

The two way becomes one way. And what we see all the time is a huge, huge traffic Jam.

I have grown up in a city of flyovers and broad roads. I had never known in my life what real traffic jam was. And now do I not know it!
Traffic and roads are one of the major problems in Patna. Not just in Patna, but in whole Bihar. Roads are the lifelines of economy.

A city needs good roads.
A village needs good roads.
A village and a city need a good road in between them. That is an absolute necessity.
Unless and until a good network of roads exists how a state can ever make progress!

In Bihar you don’t need to look out for thieves or murderers or any other criminals. These are not the real threat. In Bihar people can be quite friendly and polite. And the probability is quite high that they will treat you good. What you really need to fear once you come here is; Means of transport. The time ceases to exist here. Minutes will turn into hours.

An hour journey could be quadrupled. And that is quite normal. You may not come here with money but you have to come here with a lot of time.

The traffic tragedy on Gandhi Setu Bridge is an everyday issue. And it will continue to be one until it is repaired or the other bridge is completed. Till then every time you happen to cross Gandhi Setu, I just hope you are not in car but just taking a casual walk. But of course, if you are sitting inside a well air conditioned car and have your IPods on then you are good to go. In my case the situation was not exactly the same so yeah, the very name of the bridge still brings me nightmares.

To conclude-In the end, we had to throw ourselves out of the car, grab our stuff, go down and walk over to the other road and catch an auto.

Patna; The traffic tragedy returns

So, okay its 6:50 already and our train is set to depart on 7:15.
We have left the car and we are inside an auto.And guess what follows us here as well!

The Traffic!

Of course, the traffic didn’t end at the Gandhi Setu Bridge.

Its vicious web was spread all over the city. We are running and running but Oh! In a web spun so well how could you ever escape!The adrenaline level has started to get a little high inside our bodies but the traffic continues to torture us very much like the way Bellatrix tortured Hermione. Only this time there were no forbidden spells but sweet symphony of Horns and fragrance of Carbon mono/dioxide.
We are silently praying and though the traffic continues to give us whiplashes, I still know that somehow we will make it to station in time. Some things you just know.

And hell, did we not MAKE IT IN TIME!

Patna; The traffic tragedy v/s The train tragedy

As it turned out, we did not just make it in time; we made it too early in time!
When we reached the station, a pleasant surprise was waiting right there with its arm wide open, ready to greet us with a compassionate irony and sarcasm.
Our train was five freaking hours late.
And that is how fate makes fun of you. The bloody bullies.
The train tragedy in Bihar is ancient.
It’s the heart and soul of Bihar.
You boarded a train and it wasn’t even a single freaking hour late?
Then your “here” is not Bihar Dude! There is no way it could be Bihar! That is one impossible that can never say I’m possible.
So, the list of what you should look out for in Bihar is updated with one more thing;
Trains! They will make fun of your watches in such a horrible way that your watch will commit suicide.
(For the college freshman who happens to read this; you ask what Ragging is. ^That my friend is the ragging which should be illegal.)
And even though we made it to a happy ending, in the end, it turned to be a tragic one anyway.

Patna: The Traffic Tragedy just got served and the train tragedy rules all over the Bihar.

So, we have to reach Surat from Patna. But we don’t have a direct train. We have to go Delhi from Patna. And from Delhi we were supposed to board another train to Surat.
There was eight hour margin between the two trains and we had thought that that would be quite sufficient.
But fate was rolling on the floor laughing at us.
Our Patna to Delhi train was already five hours late. But we had hoped that it will cover during the night because trains like Gareeb rath get preferences and generally they are not delayed.
And even if they are, it is never more than two or three hours.
But of course, we were proved wrong.
In the end, our train wasn’t just 5 hours late, it was 12 fucking hours late.
12 hours!

T-W-E-L-V-E H-O-U-R-S!

While booking the tickets, could anyone see that coming?
Can anyone?
But, oh, yes, you can. When you are talking about Bihar, you totally can. And now I have learnt that quite remarkably well.
So, we couldn’t board on our Delhi to Surat train, because at the time it departed, our train was cradling us in a most torturous way far far away.
So, you might ask at this point that how did I get to Surat ultimately?

Well, that’s another story that deserves another blog post and here it is to quench your curiosity; Patna Chronicles-the battle continues.

Till then let’s end it here and end it like old times.

And by old times, I mean this-
So, kids what was the moral of this story?
The moral of the story was-
Patna is a sweet little Hotel California.
“You can check in anytime you want but you can never leave”   

And if you do try to check out, then ghosts follow you and haunt you until you are shit scared and shit tired and you are crying your heart out- “ I JUST WANT TO GET HOME!! LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Trust me, I have seen those ghosts.

P.S. To read the next part of the series you may click here; Patna chronicles-the pre-battle scenario.