One year on WordPress

Can’t believe it. The Overflowing Barrel was started a year ago. While it hasn’t received particularly devoted attention from us (we’re busy with graduations and stuff), it has been there for us whenever we wanted to express our thoughts and emotions on something or other. And that is something, considering that the past year was a tumultuous one for many of us. We, as writers, are and should be grateful that we have a recognition of the importance of the art of writing, and that we have been blessed with enough skill to do it with fair ease. WordPress has been a great platform for us, and we are thankful to have made use of it.

We did not intend for this blog to become popular and we certainly didn’t publicise it much to even our friends here. Yet we remain satisfied with the readership it gets, despite the posts being few and far between. It still stands for us that this blog was simply a means to connect with our inner selves by means of writing, which is something we love and respect.

I hope that in this coming year, The Overflowing Barrel receives the attention it deserves from us. To all those who follow us and read our stuff, we thank you, and we hope you’ll stay with us.

Here’s to another year.


Wheels of progress

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The wheels of progress. Boy are they slow.

For a democracy of 1.2 billion people, you’d think the people’s voice is loud. And it is. But how can common sense cut through the madness that is rife in the minds of the vast majority? Here is an 8 year old girl, kidnapped, sedated and raped over a week by different people, then mutilated and murdered. All in a temple, no less. The normal reaction to this would be one of horror and shock, possibly vengefulness. But what person in his/her right mind would involve religious or political aspects? What sane human being would stop a case from being registered? What level of moronic does one have to be to rally in support of the perpetrators? The voices are strong. The voices are loud. But these voices, the ones that cut through, don’t unanimously echo that of the young girl in agony. And that is very wrong. But when people in positions of power fail to recognise the magnitude of such an incident, that is beyond wrong. That is ignorance of one’s own people and one’s own country and all the values it stands for.

But there is hope. There is faith to be had in the millions of people who stand up to losers, punks, morons and scoundrels every single day; fighting for the good; fighting for a better tomorrow. And that number is sure to grow. You see, people can only take so much bullshit. And we’ve taken a lot. Now, we explode. Wrath, fire, fury. The people’s voices are slowly syncing. Soon, they will be one. One loud voice. The voice of 1.2 billion people. The voice of the nation, saying enough is enough. Do or die. Rot in hell, those who dare cross the line. For one may do anything but underestimate the power of the people.

The wheels of progress may turn slowly. The push uphill may be long and arduous and tiresome. But once they break over the crest, speed up they will. And once they speed up, they will crush anything that stands in their path. To smithereens. With a shattering crack. Devils watch out; the crest is nigh.

Restaurant Etiquette

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I hate going out with friends. I admit it outright. It’s okay if there is one or maybe two other people. Very specific people. But certain times are such that you’re hard pressed to excuse yourself out of a decidedly dull and pointless getting-together of ‘friends.’ Yes, ‘friends.’ Those people who, by social standards, are classified as such without thought or fair reason. At certain times, you’ve to lunch with these people. And lunching is the worst.

After dilly-dallying with the schedule, you finally get to the restaurant which will inevitably be a crowd-pleaser (read ‘bad choice’). Once sat, you notice that you are flanked by your least favourite people- so conversations are out of the question. The food arrives painfully late, and you start digging right in- stuffing your mouth so you don’t have to participate in the corny millennial talk. But then the rest of your food suddenly disappears. What happened to it? Oh yeah. Sharing. You’ve half a mind to tell these people to sod off and eat their own shite choice of food.

But all this is nothing compared to the small matter of settling the bill. It is commonplace for people to expect the host to pay when it’s a birthday party or the like. But a random meet-up? Shouldn’t one pay for what he ate and be done with it? No. They choose to find excuses as to why you should pay a certain amount because you had done that thing 4 months ago. And because you want the afternoon to end as soon as it can, you end up paying for the buggers. But does it end? Nooo. The turds then take pictures. Oh yes. A dozen pictures each, at least. Selfies with a graceless pout. Food pictures taken in an artsy way (so they think). Nightmarish.

Seriously people, have you ever come across the term ‘restaurant etiquette?’




The profound impact of public opinion on an individual is unbeknownst to most. Imagine this. You go to the cinema on a fine evening with a couple of your friends to catch a movie. You get through it and you initially feel you like it and have already started suggesting it to your other friends. But then you go online to read about it and the search engine’s widget pops up with an aggregate rating of 1.5/5. You look at it and you sigh. Scenes flash through your head and it kind of makes sense to you that it isn’t a good movie after all.

But does that matter? Why is it that someone on the internet has control of your opinions? Why does that have to influence your personal feelings or long standing ideas? This happens to us all. Our subconscious works that way. To make us not feel alone in thinking that something is good or bad. Because, deep down, most of us are simply trying to fit in.

Should we?


Unity and Strength

Another year over. 365 days of triumph, happiness, sorrow, struggles, highs and lows. For most of us though, it was just another dreary year of doing the same things over and over again.

When will we be rid of the monotony? When will we just stop…just stop and take a moment to see the world around us…see it and not just look? Will it ever happen?

I took such a moment towards the end of 2017. I reflected on the things that I see but notice everyday. Pain, loss, death, tragedy. From hundreds of people out in warzones to the tiny sapling in our backyard, struggling to exist. It is just poetically sad.

World peace will never exist. That is an absolute truth. Like how there can never be an ideal machine that is 100% efficient. It is one of those things coded into the weave of existence by the creator (whoever/whatever).

But we can get awfully close to it by simply extending our love of life, our desire for a better world and our passion for everything in it- by simply extending all of that to the dozen people we talk to everyday. It isn’t hard. It is gratifying. It is like how Portia from the Merchant of Venice puts it- “Mercy is twice blessed. It blesseth him that gives and him that receives.”

The smallest things make the biggest difference. Let us, together, hand in hand, make the world a better place as every day of 2018 goes by. One conversation- at the right place and time- can change lives. One hug. One handshake. One smile.

One love. #2018


Ironic. I’m sitting here with the word ‘Inspiration’ written on the title bar, and I don’t know what to write.

People always say “I need some inspiration” or “Oh I have writer’s block” or what-not. But I fail to understand this, despite being afflicted by similar feelings.

The world we live in is so vivid, so full of life, so much right and wrong, that saying we lack inspiration is a betrayal of our short-sightedness.

We sit down. Stand up. Pace back and forth. Thinking hard enough to cause perspiration (and irritation). Wholly unnecessary, if you think (sorry) about it.

Thing is, sitting at home at the same desk we sit in every single day isn’t going to inspire us to do anything. We should get out. Take a bus that goes wherever. Just observe the little things around and about.

The world is our oyster. And there ain’t going to be any much more inspiration come out of it. It is but for us to see and not merely look.

Beat ’em

I hadn’t realised I was so competitive. Despite it being pointed out to me several times before, I stuck to the thought that I didn’t care. Turns out I do. And it makes sense.

Being competitive makes me who I am. See, it isn’t that others shouldn’t do well- it isn’t jealousy. It is simply that I should do better. And not at everything- that is impossible. I know what I’m good at. For example, I’m not that good at writing. But I am good at editing. And I will aim to be better than anyone I encounter at it. And I will get better. Not fulfilling that desire pushes me into the doldrums of the soul.

Now that I’ve realised, I don’t have to attempt to veil it. It is how it is. It makes me better. It nourishes my growth as an individual. It drives me to do better. And it possibly makes people around me do better. That’s a win-win.

Dystopia (long read)

Dystopia (noun): an imagined place or state I will everything is unpleasant or bad, typically a totalitarian or environmentally degraded one.

Dystopia has so far existed in fictional works- novels, movies and the like- portraying a world degraded in every respect. Food, water, shelter, society, governments- all demolished. Simply put, dystopia is an imaginary world where everything is bad. But fearfully, it mightn’t be imaginary in the coming times. 

Countries and governments have long been challenged by issues such as poverty, unemployment, lack of resources, animosity with neighbours, terrorism, extremism, et cetera. It is never what people want. Yet they’re called ‘democracies’. Elected leaders have, in an arguable majority of cases, proven to be completely non-reflective of the people who voted them into office, by nature of their persona, policies and politics. 

nbc-fires-donald-trump-after-he-calls-mexicans-rapists-and-drug-runners.jpgA prime example of the above is Donald Trump, among many others. America, the land of freedom. Where the Statue of Liberty welcomes those who seek the good life. Whose people and places are warm and open to all people. One must admit that it is suitably erroneous to associate this country with such a man. A man who encourages and actively participates in ham-handed and heavy-fisted dialogue; these characteristics being reflected in the policies enacted by the Trump Administration, and all its cohorts. The Paris Climate Deal- whose sole aim is to safeguard the world from an unsightly end- has been rebuked and more or less dismissed by Trump, he who famously called global warming a hoax. ObamaCare, for all its faults and issues, did indeed provide accessible healthcare to millions in desperate need for it. Only to be completely reversed and abolished. Trump’s ‘replacement’ policy cannot even begin to address the so-called issues, let alone keep Americans healthy. And we have the wall he intends to build to keep people from Mexico out. Honestly, it is keeping people from fleeing to Mexico and not from it. Who would want to go to America now?

APphoto_Venezuela-Political-Crisis2-3.jpgVenezuela. Where poverty and diseases are so much, and food and resources so little, that eradicated diseases are returning. People are waiting in queues for basic resources for days, only to return empty handed. Decent folk are left scouring garbage to chew on every morsel left out. Murderers and smugglers abound, often working with law enforcement to kill people and sell drugs. The government, which has illegally taken full control of all rights and laws, has completely destroyed society. Sitting on vast oil reserves, they’re importing fuel, and their full dependence on hydropower is causing problems due to draught. It all sounds absurd. But to the millions of people getting murdered on the streets, it is much too real. 

1x1-fi_-north_korea_001.jpgAnd the funniest part. North Korea is officially called the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea. Where food is rationed, people are brainwashed/killed, weapons are prioritised, prisoners are tortured, development is curtailed; a blind eye turned to the rest of the world. All by a short, stout man with funny hair who can only be described as a dictator taken to the next level. It is not a democracy. It is a torturous prison. 

Islamic-State-front-cover.jpgLeaving aside governments, we have religious extremist groups, chief of which is ISIS. They go out into the world from their hellish recluse and bomb people up, then call it ‘crusading’ carried out ‘by Allah’. Ask any Muslim and they will fly into a hysterical rage. A couple of lunatics read a few verses of the Quran, get together, kill people, establish a ‘Caliphate’ and then call it God’s work. These people rape and torture women, use children as human shields during war and proceed to eviscerate their dead bodies to use the organs. These monsters attack the very foundations of humankind in the name of crusading against modern filth. Which is apparently what Allah wants. 

In a world where fidget spinners and memes dominate social life, where newspapers fill up with bomb blast reports, coups, deaths, murders, rapes, et cetera, science, progression and moral development have arguably been left behind. Some people argue that modern times have not seen any noteworthy advances in science, since the start of the 21st century. I argue that modern times have seen a world more interested in Trump tweets and covfefe, than in the wax worms eating plastic. 

If this state continues to exist, or heavens forbid, develop, then there will continue to be wars, public crimes, fringe groups, broken societies and broken people.

Dystopia (noun): the future. 

Power. Grace. Wisdom. Wonder.

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I was young – too young to remember how old I was – when I first saw a spectacle so revolutionary and colourful that even after 15 years of countless shows and double the number of movies and books, it remains to be one of the few constants in an ever-shifting memory – Lynda Carter’s Wonder Woman.

I was sifting through the repeats of numerous cartoons when my bored eyes spotted a red and golden top and a headband. I had to investigate that. Upon closer inspection, it was a woman, clad in red and blue, with a lasso in her hand, punching someone in the face. That was the age of Shaktiman, of Harry potter and Hardy Boys. The only famous superhero this poor girl had known was “Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Its Superman.” Every important role featured a tall man with/without a moustache, going around saving the city, being worshipped, zipping through, catching females falling from rooftops for no apparent reason. Naturally, being a child, I was very curious as to why there was no one like me doing all the above. The real world was not devoid of tall females being authoritative (cue my teachers). My mom wasn’t falling from rooftops – she was busy working and making me do my homework. So if anyone could be a superhero, as the movies were so adamantly claiming, why was there no one like my mom or my teachers standing up against evil?

When I asked my mom all this, all she said was, “Because we can’t fly and tie up our hair at the same time” and “A girl couldn’t do all that.”

And yet here this woman was, doing things I was conditioned to think were impossible – standing up for justice and what she believes in. I watched her do so for 20 minutes straight, without faltering, stopping only to question anything and anyone, the opposite of what I was taught to do. “Don’t question your brother”, “Don’t question your dad” and yet strangely enough, questioning my mom wasn’t considered rude.

Wonder Woman never stopped questioning. She didn’t stop when the person on the other side was bigger or taller. She brought them down to her level.

Every time I wanted that new loud truck toy, everyone around me would say, “You’re a girl. What’re you going to do with it?” This goddess was driving an armoured tank around the city like it was her birth right.

When I told my mom what I wanted to be when I grew up, she scoffed and said “But you’re a girl. It’s not feasible. It’s not possible.” Wonder Woman was always there doing the best she could, even when she knew she was outnumbered. All on her own. Unbiased and unafraid.

She stood her ground. She fought both her self-doubts and mine. She fought the fight this little girl wished she could. She wrapped my dreams and hopes around her waist and secured it for eternity. She trapped my questions in her headband and let it crack the skulls of those that laughed at her. She held hope in her sword and as it gleamed in the shining sun, so did my teeth as I imagined myself laughing at the question “You’re a girl. What can you even do?” before showing them that red and blue figure flying in the distance, smiling as she ties up her hair.

From that day since, Wonder Woman – my first powerful, elegant, beautiful, brave role model – has always had my back. “But Wonder Woman can” and “Do you know about Wonder Woman?” echoed all the answers I’d confidently toss at anyone whose questions would otherwise have left me embarrassed and incompetent.

The world needs Wonder Woman – a voice to represent all those unheard and all those heard and yet ignored. The world needs Wonder Woman because men and women all need to be told that justice, power, truth and pride are equal for all. They need a strong, graceful figure rising proudly among the ashes of a million questions whose only answer is that skip of a step and that twinkle in her eye as she stands side by side as an equal with those that now ask the question “Is she with you?”

As I wait for June 2, I wait for a new era of a more powerful Wonder Woman but no less inspiring; I wait for this 20 year old’s heart to light up with the pride that she so effortlessly seems to radiate; I wait for the boys and girls to finally see Wonder Woman in their moms who face everything the world throws at them with a smirk, in their sisters who now know they can grab what they want with a lasso, their friends who stand by them with pride and grace, their shields all the way up, who finally know they can be as strong as they want to be.

Wonder Woman is not only a comic book character- she is the embodiment of everything good in the world that a little girl saw 15 years ago, an image of red and blue she carried in her heart whenever she felt frustration and rage. If Wonder Woman could do it then so could she. If Wonder Woman wouldn’t compromise then so wouldn’t she. I saw myself in her as would and did a million others. Her unflinching courage and wisdom was a live lesson on what I had the potential to be. She wasn’t just eye candy. She wasn’t the helpless by-stander who’d wait for someone else to save them. She’d do the saving. She was a just warrior, a wise princess, a friend, a leader, an ideal, an inspiration.

I hope this movie,75 years in the making, finally makes Wonder Woman a common household name, with the grandeur and the larger than life image intact. I hope Gal Gadot makes everyone around me realise that a woman can be who she wants to be. She can be an ambassador of peace, a warrior, a friend, a menace, someone who has the power to stand for truth and justice even if she has to fight through demons to be heard. It was Lynda carter who gave me an ideal to strive through and it will be Gal Gadot who will cement it in everyone’s minds. The red has become darker, the gold brighter, which only means she has been waiting for a while to be heard and now that she has her stage, you had better turn up the volume and watch awe-struck as she crashes through the window and single-handedly does the impossible – make everyone love her. Oh, and also kick ass. That’s important too.

“Don’t kill if you can wound, don’t wound if you can subdue, don’t subdue if you can pacify and don’t raise your hand at all until you’ve first extended it.”