Seasons Of Life

As promised, here we are.

Shall we do introductions, or straight dive in the conflict? Why are we even bothering, we all know what I am going to do.

There is a hindi proverb (I’m Indian after all, though people have their doubts).

“Waqt se pehle aur kismat se zyada kisi ko kuch nahi milta.”

The closest English translation would be, “No one gets anything more, or before time, than what is written in their fate.”

Hey don’t look at me, my hindi is horrible. Like I said, people have their doubts.

I won’t agree with the fate part, but I do agree with the part about time. Unless you do your due diligence, you’ll never achieve the results you wish to achieve.

I’m a biochemist so I can only talk from that point of view. Unless I did my masters, unless I performed necessary experiments, unless I developed the skills required for an immunologist, I wouldn’t have been able to do justification to my PhD.

You see how I didn’t use the term I couldn’t have been able to get into PhD? Sadly, these days almost anyone can get into a PhD program in India. Believe me, I’m not joking. And before I end up sounding like a bitter jealous scholar, let’s drop the matter there.

See, I’m a nerd, that’s who I am, so I’ll always talk about science. But the truth of time will hold true. Always, and everywhere.

Can you get into a six figure paying job unless you do your due diligence? Unless you suffer for years? Actually suffer is too strong a word. Let’s say, unless you sweat for years developing your skills.

That’d be more in layman terms.

There are phases for everything. Life teaches us all different lessons. There aren’t any good or bad lessons, just different lessons.

Everything teaches us something. Everything has its season.


Via Daily Prompt: Loophole


Did You Miss Me?

dog sitting in front of a computer/laptop - humour, funny

Guess who’s back.


Oh, so you didn’t even realize I was gone? Well, it’s all right. Heck, I am not that important.

And no, that isn’t a cry of self pity. I’m in a slightly joyous mood. Yup, that happens. Occasionally.

It was the first time I gave myself a little break.

I gave myself a four day exile from internet. Not just WordPress, almost everything. Too much of anything isn’t a good thing. Life’s a balancing act.

Reason? I don’t have the slightest clue. Maybe I’m weird. Actually, that’s the best explanation I can come up with so let’s go with that. I’m weird. 

No need for any studies on me. Though that’d be fun.

Today I initially thought of writing something. Considering I’ve been away for a while, I have enough to say. But today, like I said, I’m slightly joyous.

It’s frigging weird.

So, tomorrow I’ve my convocation. Well, it’s a bit delayed, to be exact, one year six months after my M.Sc. Crap. I’ve finished eighteen months of my PhD. Holy shit.

About my PhD, I’ve finally found some peace. After pulling out eighty-ninety hour work weeks for three continous weeks (See, fancy), I’ve been able to sort out one major experimental setback that I was experiencing. Phew.

So, that’s another good news. Shit, I started rambling again, didn’t I?

Oh, old friend, I missed you.

Now, before I ramble for thousand words (The shit will get heavy), let me just share few pictures of the campus.

My fascination with photography at night continues.

Tomorrow we’ll talk about some life changing heavy stuff. I promise.

For today, ciao.

Another Psychopathic Narcissist

I’m turning twenty-five on eighth. Don’t hassle. You don’t have to congratulate me. For me, it’s just another date. I’ll still have the same issues I’ll have on the night of seventh.

Nothing would change. Well, expect the date.

The night of the seventh, or the morning of the eighth, I’ll be as conflicted as I’ve been for last six, or seven months.

I might be one of the self aware narcissist, or I could be a psychopath with too much self pity. Actually, I’d lean towards the latter one. After all, I’m whining with my words. Aren’t I?

Rather than doing something about it, I’m complaining, like an idiot. All that is wrong with the world, all that bothers me. How my life never turned out to be the way I wanted it to be?

Actually, that could be the problem. I assumed my life would have been a projection of one of my dreams. I’d be successful, would have achieved something significant, at least by my standards, but here I am. A soon to be twenty-five-year old millennial, with the issues that would put my ambitious self to shame.

You know, it could be the part of growing up. It’s definitely a human experience. A life teaching, if you must.

I’m fascinated with human psychology. Did you know that? The whole deal.

Why we do what we do? Why the fuck do we do anything?

Isn’t that the greatest question every religion tries to answer?

Do you ever get tired of thinking, analysing, extrapolating your every move? You might ask, what sort of strange question is that. If you did, if you actually did, man, I’m in trouble.

I’ve lived my entire life like that. It isn’t methodological, if that’s what you’re thinking. It is just a way of life. It’s how my brain keeps itself engaged. Like I said, I’m either a narcissist, or a psychopath. You know what, I could be both.

Shit Happens

It’s the time of year when we forget about the bad and hope for the good in the upcoming year. Isn’t that why we make New Year resolutions?

Hmm, how about I do that too?

See, before I started writing this post, I’d decided I’ll write about my new year resolutions. I am not joking.

But, as usual, shit happens.

Well, in my case, Metallica and The Cranberries happened.

Continue reading “Shit Happens”

The Shackles Of Doubts

In any discussion, there is a certain point where you run out of things to say, you realize you’ve exhausted all the arguments you could have made, and then you find yourself stuck in a vicious cycle of thoughts, repeating itself over and over again, a cycle made of drivels.

Don’t worry, it isn’t random. Though I do like starting my posts like this.

A straight dive into the conflict.

Lately, I’ve been struggling with writing. It isn’t the part where I lay down words on paper (A screen in my case), it’s the part where I think of sharing it with others.

Fucking standards. You know, I believe I’ve already written a post quite similar to the one I’m writing right now.

Only so much you can ramble before you repeat yourself.


And again.

Writers who can work around their doubts, they are the ones who find writing to be easy. For some of us, me included, the shackles of doubts are too strong. So, we struggle.

We struggle finding our worth. Even though we know there isn’t anything new under the sun. Just the same old story, but different tellers.

You would think after writing so much for such long time, it’d be slightly easier, right? Well, you thought wrong.

It’s the second one where the real struggle lies. First one, people often attribute to beginner’s luck. Fuck people, even the writer, himself or herself, attributes their first work to luck.

It’s easy to go from zero to ninty, it’s the last ten where the entire battle is done.

The second step.

When we take it, we already have the weightage of the first one. We have already committed, so there isn’t any going back.

It feels so fucking heavy.

See, I don’t want to carry this thought anymore. I started the first step, and the second one, the one where I’m supposed to resolve this post, I do not want to take that step.

If you deal in art, then suffering is your currency.

Like I said, I feel as if I’m repeating myself over and over again. So, what would be the point of resolving the conflict?

I’m pretty sure I must have written the answer in one of my previous post.

Do Not Read This One.

I’m writing this one straight into the WordPress editor. I’m practicing a little advice that I preached in one of my comments today. So, here goes, twenty minutes, straight into the WordPress editor. No way to make it pretty then, huh?

Oh, it’s going to be tough. I can feel that. Well, here comes a horrible post.

“We’ll dance together till the end of time,

And the world will fall, submitting its authority.

Oh, the things we do to fit in.”

There are three updates, or points, which I’d like to make you aware of.

First, from now onwards, Saturdays will be Gratitude Saturday. I whine a lot, it’s only fair I give gratitude to all that I have. Maybe I’ll end up less pessimistic that way. Who knows?

Why Saturday?

If you force my hand, and I’d have to choose a favourite day, it’d have to be Saturday. No competition there. If I look for reason why that is so, I don’t know, maybe I can come up with few. The fact that it’ll be Sunday next day would be the first. Sunday’s are good but they are masked by the horror of upcoming Monday. On that note, I hate Mondays, by the way.

Second would be the fact that, on Saturdays, I end up having going on a binge Heavy Metal album listening. I listened to Metallica’s first three albums in one go today. Kill ‘em All, Ride the Lightning and Master of Puppets. I’m on my seventh album, right now, as I am writing this.

In addition to the aforementioned, the list goes like this, Goatwhore’s Carving Out The Eyes of God, Amon Amarth’s Twilight of The Thunder God, Slayer’s Season in Abyss and well, as always, Slipknot’s Iowa. Megadeth’s Rust in Peace is next, in case that information is relevant.

Second, in this week’s Sometimes Stellar Six Word Story Challenge, I finished second for my entry, “On tiny graves, gravedigger often cried.

Third, I recently became the Top Writer in Art category on Medium and I’ve been selected as a writer for five publications there.

For the unknowing, it’s a community of writers and readers just like WordPress. And unlike WordPress, it’s a community dominated by readers rather than writers. If you ask me, I’ll say that is its biggest advantage. If it was upto me, I’d Frankenstein something between WordPressMedium and Path. Oh, and maybe Instagram.

Lately, I’ve been active on Medium a lot. And maybe, I’d like to finish this post on that note. Give Medium a go, believe me, it has a beautiful interface and if you love reading, you cannot go wrong there. If you do decide to join Medium, give my profile a read. It’s @nitesh.mishra3.

That’s all. Nice. It didn’t come out half bad, huh?


Images are prepared using Canva, by the way, which means I have all the rights to them.  Don’t tell me you’re still not using it. Learning Canva is a necessity in this blogging age, believe me. 


Have you checked out my profile on Instagram? It isn’t that bad, at least I don’t think so.

Creativity Among Chaos

Life isn’t fair, why should you be? Right? You want to break rules, break them for a reason. Don’t break them just to be an asshole.

If your conscience functioned the way mine does, or if your thought process functioned the way mine does, you’d have understood the thought behind that line. Sadly, to the best of my knowledge, none of the two is true. So, I’m stuck, in a web of my own making, struggling and worsening it with every move. It seems rather self-destructive behaviour, doesn’t it?

See, there is this voice, you know, like a constant nagging in back of my head, telling me what I should do and what I shouldn’t. If I did something a month back and I repeat it again, that voice, it amplifies, making its point unbelievably clear. But then, isn’t that life? Repeating the same thing over and over again. Eat, kill, repeat?

How do you make peace if the calmness of your life bothers you? You look for chaos, right? That seems to be the logical tactic. But then, after a while, that chaos starts to bother you and then you look for the peace that triviality brings. A vicious cycle, isn’t it?

Guided chaos. It seems I just came up with the solution. Or as life coaches say, be focused about your goals. But what if you have many goals and you want to achieve them as soon as you can? That’s my chaos in a nutshell, I guess.

Maybe you’re thinking I overwhelm myself sometimes, right? But then I’ll end up adding, when do you know you’re overwhelmed. These conflicts, I’ve been living with them for so long, I’ve been in a tug of war with them for so long, that they do not even feel conflicts anymore. 

If you hit a loyal dog hundred times, he’s bound to go rabid. Everything is bound to break. Every man has his poison.

Life is an endless repetitive drag. That reality becomes more profound when you write everyday, you end up realising that you write about the same old shit. You end up feeling like you’re whining, maybe like a little bitch. That’s sexist on another level.

It is strange, you know, as I’m standing, my right shoulder forcing itself on the window of this bus, to realise this. In traffic jam, it’s a perfect conflict, vehicles move as if they are crawling, and yet at the same time, so many vehicles, in such a crammed up road gives you the feeling that the entire city is is such a rush.

Apparently, my appearance is that of a stoner, you know, the usual assholes that cuss and fight at every instance, idiots with a heavy head and bloodshot red eyes. Though, by nature, I’m the farthest thing from that, but I’ll have to admit, on crowded road like this, looking like an asshole has it’s advantage. People move to a side the moment they see you coming towards them.

And, well, a chaotic noise blaring from the headphones that barely hang to my ears, as I headbang like a maniac doesn’t help either.

I just realised something right now, I cannot write in peace, I need chaos to be creative. Shit.

Writer’s Block? Again?

Lately, I’m in fiction writer’s block, if there is such a thing. I’ve been writing per se, five hundred six hundred words every day. It’s the fiction part where I’ve been struggling somewhat. Apparently, I love writing non-fiction.


Yeah, like that’s a surprise.

So let’s jot down some random rambles. And maybe among those five hundred words, we’ll end up with hundred substantial one. At least that’s the plan.

Continue reading “Writer’s Block? Again?”

How To Increase Your Followers – Another Clickbait Title To Make You Read My Post.

In case you didn’t run away after reading the title, let us begin on this beautiful journey that’ll make you a millionaire overnight. I promise. I have done that for hundreds of people who thank me to this day.

If you believe I’m lying, let me add few fake testimonials from people, who do not exist, telling you how I changed their life.

Nitesh is awesome. He knows everything about the brilliant topic he is talking about. First generic bubbly girl with a beautiful face.

I had given up hope. That was until I met Nitesh. Now I can say without any doubt, Nitesh’s course for amateurs like me indeed works. It is the best one million dollar you’ll ever spend. The first generic bald fat middle aged man whose life was saved by blogging.

sarcasm one of the many services i offer

What? You’re still here?

You won’t leave unless I tell you my secret, right? Well, here it is.

I’ll tell you one little secret. That’s it. You do not need to worry about anything else.

Continue reading “How To Increase Your Followers – Another Clickbait Title To Make You Read My Post.”

Diary Of A Madman – Entry 25th October 2017 (Because I’m Running Out of Original Titles)

Come on. Here we go again, motherfucker. Oh, sorry, compulsory warning, this post contains profanity. Well, because I’m in one of my moods. You call them profanity, I call them sentence enhancers. And before I forget, that’s how Slipknot’s best album starts. 

Should I do it? It’s feels as if I ignored it for too long. Though in reality it was only three days. Shit. Three days, that’s way too long for someone like me. Too long to ignore the voices, to ignore the need.

This isn’t the way it is supposed to be. This is the only way I feel whole. That sounds so pathetic. Can I really maintain the suspense for a little long? I’m struggling so much. Now I know why I’m a horrible suspense writer. I can only write soapy drama. Maybe I’m one dimensional. No matter how much I try to ignore it. For example, this is a little exercise to write something in short sentences. Simple sentences. No complex sentences. No compound verbs.

Improper paragraph breaks. Five lines. Seven lines. The point is mixing up your style. Maybe it is a way to challenge yourself. Maybe this is how we are supposed to get out of our comfort zone. As of late, I’ve been feeling that my writing skills are rather limited. It feels as if I’m repeating myself over and over again. That can be a good thing. After all, that’s how we achieve mastery over any skill.

Writing isn’t that. Not anymore. It’s something entirely else. Maybe I should try writing something in some other genre. Science fiction seems fitting. After all I am a nerd who studies Immunology.

I digressed, didn’t I? Maybe that is the way we write good suspense thriller. We add a lot of irrelevant details. That was a snark. Huh, I’m back to my old self. Come on, idiot, get out of your comfort zone. Anyone can write a rant. Write something ridiculous for a change.

But I’ve been writing that for so long. Then write something good. Simple.

That was a ridiculous little paragraph. Let’s see if I can make fun of some other stereotypical genre. Ooh, let’s try young adult fiction. Girl falls in love with a bad boy. Good boy helps the bad boy with homework (Homework is too cliched, maybe a bodybuilding championship, after all, nerds can go to gym too). Good boy falls in love with the girl. Bad boy chooses his gym membership over the girl (Wow! We have comedy too. Shit! Let’s overuse exclamation marks, that is another necessity of YA fiction). Girl goes to the good boy. Good boy accepts her. After all, good guys are pathetic loser who always soothe the ego of rejected idiots. Nice!! And we have the plot of next bestselling young adult fiction.

Maybe I should not publish this post and write the YA fiction myself. Brilliant! I got my NaNoWriMo plot figured out. I’ll be filthy rich (Imagine me doing the manic villian laughter).

I guess I am too stupid. I ended up writing another rant. Nitesh, you can never be a good writer, you idiot.

And while we are on that subject, what kind of fucking idiot talks about himself in third person? Well hello, a narcissist. Who else? Shit. Who cares for socially aware pragmatic citizens? We need dogmatic minions who worship stones and animals. This was fun.

Oh, about the suspense, I was on Slipknot break. Can you believe it? Three days without Slipknot. I’m surprised I’m not in jail. Perfect line. Slipknot – Because bitchslapping or punching people in the throat would be animal abuse.

Fuck! By now I’m entirely sure my death will most likely be caused by being sarcastic at the wrong time.

I wholeheartedly apologize for the overdone exclamation marks. I hate exclamation marks.

Via Daily Prompt: Identity