Friday, December 9, 2011

"Oh my god, I think I'm falling in love with you!"

*cue to swoon*

Thursday, November 17, 2011

hourglass

a lot of things on my mind, a lot of random thoughts. i wish someone hadn't closed the word document where i was working on my amazingly fantastic short story, which i will now never continue because it was a one off thing that i unfortunately never saved. it was awesome though, about this whore and well maybe one day it'll come back.

time is running out. in life. in college. on my laptop battery. things will rush past really fast in the next few months, and it's hard to know you're going to be saying goodbye to some people, possibly not hearing their wiseass remarks for a long time. never cribbing about how broke we are as a communal of sorts ever again. never letting time pass us by slowly, watching the sun smolder, turning into the orange moon. sure, we'll get over it eventually. but there's just never enough time.

really really never enough time. this isn't the time to be profound and deep and meaningful. it's about appreciating what we have before it's gone. the hourglass is nearly empty. and just yesterday (was it really almost three years ago?) it seemed limitless.

leaving bites.


but the thought of you makes me really happy, for some odd reason

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

the first man in my life

I've known him for years and years. I know his mannerisms, I know when he's annoyed, when he's happy, when he's excited and what pisses him off. Throughout the years though, he's retained his mysteries. But let me explain a bit about the type of person he is, the amount that I know.

I'm sure he used to be a charmer, back in the day. He still is. The life of the party, the center of attention, everyone's best friend. That's him. Usually the peacemaker, always the one to put people in a merry mood. There's something about him that strangers find comfort in. His easy smile and jovial nature, maybe. That was him, at the top of his game.

Though he's the life of the party, at home he's a much different person. Exemplary of the perfect Gemini. As he crosses the threshold of his home, he sheds the social butterfly exterior and retreats into his mind, into himself to become a quiet, pensive and introspective man. Where outside, he used to crack a joke at a second, now he becomes easily peeved, allowing the weight of the world that rests on his shoulders to finally weigh him down.

Lately, I've begun to read him a little more. The years have started to run him down. He lives for others. He lives for his family, to make sure they're happy. He's gotten dogged down with his priorities that he's stopped looking inside to see what he wants. Now, it's like he's stopped living for himself. He used to live for others, but now those others have had to leave for the time being. And he feels stranded.

I wish you would explore. I wish you'd stretch out the wings of your own potential, because it's still there. The years don't show on your face, but lately they've started to claim a place. Yes, your hair is become white, yes your eyes are wrinkling a little more, and yes, your health is not what it once was. But you're still in there somewhere, the one who used to give me piggy back rides, who used to race me every morning before school started, who taught me how to make omelettes, who bought me my first guitar, who picked me up from my first dance. You were the first man in my life, and you are the one I aspire to be like. And even though we've been at odds with each other for many years, of course I love you - you're my father, after all.

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Alright, it's not that some things are gone, it's not like they won't come back. But they're gone for the time being, and I wish they were back. In the meantime, though, I remember.

I remember the time you failingly tried to pick me up, so then I decided I could carry you piggy back style. I took two steps and ended up dumping you on my bed.

I remember the awesome blue cave we made out of my blanket.

I remember flying kisses from the elevator.

I remember awesome coffee and pretty decent french toast and Tangled and you and me.

I remember trying to trip you up, and way too many "oh look what's that? *whack!*" moments.

I remember Bob and Jack and Mugsy and Moot and Sam. I swear, I remember them all.

I remember all the chocolates, and I still have one last sea shell. And the bamboo flower. And that first wine bottle.

I remember how it feels when you come and hug me from behind, and then when we end up doing the funny penguin walk.

I remember Kamal Momos and Sams Cafe and crazy eyes and peacocks at Hauz Khas.

I remember escaping my maid.

I remember when you had to walk around with a pink clip in your hair. Yeah, I know I still owe you for that.

I remember that day at the playground, where we sat and talked about the strangest things.

I remember today, when you kissed my hand through your oxygen mask. Of course I'll still be here, no matter what condition you're in.

Monday, August 1, 2011

wake me up before you go go

There's a new craving. (And craving is said in that weird caveman way) There's many things to say, and a weird emptiness where the words are supposed to be. You know how, when you have to say anything, you can say it better with your eyes closed? It works on blogs too. So, out of the blue this evening, I got this sudden urge to be in a chick flick. Like a proper romantic comedy, with the humouristic drama, puppy dog cute male lead, and sickeningly cheesy yet cute moments. Too much to ask? Is it? IS IT? *glares*

A pit of lethargy is what I have been slumped in. Life was about focusing on peeling the oranges, or cracking nuts one at a time, but now it's like I'm being bombarded in the head with a whole bushel of oranges or crate loads of nuts. Actually it's not that bad. I just realized I was over due for a whine session.

Good day, good sir.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

The latest philosophy I've started adhering to in life is the one that states that to be really happy, you have to let yourself be vulnerable. Vulnerable to pain, to rejection, to disappointment. Because unless you put yourself out there and break out of your shell, you'll always be content, but you'll never be happy.

And that wasn't an inviting thought.. to never be happy. Of course I wanted to be happy. In an effort to break out of my shell, I took some steps that didn't make me feel like myself. Suddenly, it's like I'm a whole new person. One who gets mad really easily, edgy all the time, who won't stand for any sort of bullshit.

What happened to the old me? The one who used to be a nice, considerate, generous person? Who was everyone's friend? Suddenly it's like that person sunk somewhere deep down, and all these years of pent up emotion are emerging out like when you mix baking powder and soda or something like that.

Now, when I look at him, I think, this is what I've wanted for the longest time. How in the world did I end up getting it? It scares me. Is this for real? Is it actually happening? I keep my shields up, even though I want to let them down. I really do. I want to tell him he means so much, but I stop myself. That's not who we are. But does he see me the way I see him? He'll never tell me. So I keep my shields up. They're very important, you know. No, I can't let myself be vulnerable. Can't get hurt again. I'm happy being just content for now.

We're living in a time bomb. We know when it will go off.

You know what I wish? I wish I was normal. I really do. I wish I could go back to being the book worm who sits quietly and reads, and does all her homework properly. She was pretty happy, although she'd always wanted what I have now. Sometimes I wonder what I would say to her. I would apologize for screwing things up. I'd tell her she had a lot of good things in store for her. So many beautiful memories. I'd tell her to stop being harsh with herself. She was an awesome person, and she grew up trying to be like the rest of them. I'll bring her back. Enough of this.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Run On

I just had this epiphany and I wanted to write it down really fast before I lost the epiphanical sense and thought it was crap like my over critical virgo self (apparently) and hence I shan't use any punctuation also because someone writes like that and I wanted to see what joy they get out of it actually it seems quite fun my mind is getting dizzy as we speak or as i type whatever man jeez anyway so the epiphany goes like something like erm wait hang on must keep typing and thinking at the same time its kinda hard ok got it so Google asked me if I wanted to change my location to India seeing as I've "changed my location" (yeah for the past six months Google nice catch) so I got this horrible guilty feeling in my heart because I realized that I didn't really want to since Google the normal home page felt cooler than the Indian home page then I thought was I being disloyal to my country and bending to Western stereotypes about how the West is much cooler and the Indian one is kinda just sub standard was that the person I was becoming after all my trying to be a non stereotypical NRI type person guess the truth will out huh so Google has asked me this twice already and each time I got this weird twinge of guilt so I'd just hit ignore but then that's me being me again avoiding my problems so this time I decided to face up to what I wanted HELL IF I WANTED THE REGULAR GOOGLE I'D HAVE IT FOR JIMINY'S SAKE so I declined to request to use Google India and although I did have a twinge of guilt in the end atleast I was being true to myself and that's what counts the end.

BREATHE.

Phew.

My brain literally hurts. I don't know how people live without punctuation.

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Revisit

I used to think I was good at expressing what I felt, atleast with the written word. It used to be true until this situation I got stuck in. Literally like stuck between a rock and a hard place. But after a whole lot of miserable existence, I’ve had enough. After all, how long can a person whine and complain and be negative? My fourth grade teacher had labeled me as a happy camper, and I’d like to do her a bit of justice.

You were the best thing to come my way, in all my life, but for some reason, I couldn’t reciprocate. I’m sorry I became sidetracked. But it all became so overwhelming. I don’t want to write for sympathy. I’m not asking anyone to feel sorry for my position, because I deserve it and I’ll take my dues. Happily. Shout at me. Yell. Make me feel like the lowliest piece of crap on the planet, because I know I deserve it. But you didn’t do any of that. You couldn’t be mad at me.

Cue in the biggest guilt trip ever. Part two.

I still don’t know what I want. The thing is, if you and I.. if we lived in the same city, I would come back. Does that make my love seem shallow? Should I be ready to face all hurdles? I know you are. You’ve always been ready. And I was too, until I started looking for the little things. And they were all missing. They just weren’t there. Meeting you felt like a special occasion. And that was something we both knew from the start. But then, I just didn’t know how I’d feel about it six months down the line.

When my friends would complain about not seeing their boyfriend all day, I’d secretly grow angry. I hadn’t seen you in three weeks! What right did they have to complain when I never did? Celebrating anniversaries became passé for them while for me, it was still so new and exciting, because hey! We were going strong! I guess with the distance, I never took you for granted.

That’s why I never wanted to let you go. You understood like no one ever did. I felt more comfortable with you. No one understood my moods like you did. And you know, despite every impractical, illogical, crazy, bitchy mood swing I threw at you, you were right there by my side. Who does that? It felt incredible.

That’s why I still don’t want you to go. Or if you do, please come back. There’s no one else I can see myself with in the future. And what with life taking me in directions I don’t know, I know that having a claim and then not having you – that’s hard for me. Then temptations come and I think, wouldn’t it be nice to have someone who I can see every day? So what if, you know, the connection wasn’t as amazing as ours? It’s good enough.

Good enough.

Good enough with someone there, or amazing with someone not there? That’s the decision I’ve been trying to make.

Maybe I’ve been running away from something so deep. That could make sense. This new relationship that’s sprung up… it’s not as intense. It’s very in the moment. It’s like that moment when you’re underwater for a really long time, and then come up for a breath. Because I can go back to being in my shell. In my comfort zone. It’s a relief because I know he doesn’t have that power over me, not yet. I spend time with him because it makes me happy with no strings attached. We don’t have tags, and more than anything, we’re friends.

I want you to be happy. I want you to know that you have me whenever you need me. But right now, I can't come back. I need to do this for myself.

I’m tired of trying to keep everyone placated. Of trying desperately not to hurt anyone. I’m tired of thinking.

Monday, May 30, 2011

The Third Stage

Bargaining. Already.

I don't know why I'm writing again, when I have nothing to say. Nothing's changed. Except I realized, somehow, somewhere, something's not the same. It's like I've been falling, all this while with the certainty that there's a mattress down there, ready to catch me. It's still there, but now I never wanna reach the bottom.

Wow, my writing's started to suck. Ok, ignoring all the eyes I feel are watching me, or would watch me as I publish this, and talking only to myself.

It's KILLING me right now to not pick up the phone, to make everything the same as it was once. Maybe I can call ceasefire? Maybe you really won't be such a weak willed bastard the next time? But you know what irks me the most? You didn't even try to stop me. I left and you accepted it.

And HER. For the LOVE OF GOD! There was once a time when it was alright, she was allowed to be mad at me. But now, she's this delusional psychopath who hasn't got any remains of dignity left. And I realize maybe I can't ever let this blog become public. But for god's sake!

I'll delete this post. But for now, let me vent. There's oh so much to vent.

Friday, May 27, 2011

In his memory

So... you know that story I was telling you about? The one that I said wasn't a fairytale? Well, you know why? Because in that story, everyone did not live happily after. People died in that story. Don't worry, they were imaginary. Too bad the rest of it wasn't.

Lately I've been introspecting. What kind of a fool was I? Yes there are varieties. I came up with an answer too. I was the masochistic kind. Once, a friend told me that I seemed like a cold hearted bitch (he meant it in the nicest way) and that comment.. well it stuck. I felt like I really did have no emotions. That was scary. Did I not feel? Was I cold, apathetic? Just like the rest of my family? No, of course not. I could feel... I'd show them.

So I came to him. And they told me he'd hurt me. And I didn't care. Because I wanted to see, you know? See how much he could possibly hurt me. How far would he be able to break me? Ah, but this one was cruel. He didn't come with a sleek blade. No, he came at my heart with a dull axe. Bouts of pain, but hey, I made it through! Until the last one. No, that last attempt really pretty much cracked it. So I withdrew it; my heart, that is. Now its slightly deformed, slightly mangled, in need of repair. It needs to catch its breath, but it's still there pumping. But I showed them. I was capable of emotion! Who's laughing now?

The thing is, I'm over it. But only because I have to be. Because it would be the most stupid thing in the history of the universe (except for the invention of the plastic duck for the tub) to go back. I know that. They know that. Everyone knows that. But that doesn't mean I can't keep glancing at my phone every once in a while. It doesn't mean I can't read his old messages. It doesn't mean I can't go through the past in my head.

It doesn't mean I can't regret what won't come back. Oh, and who died? Well, Bob did. Remember him? Yeah a cleaver couldn't kill him, but a kiss gone astray could.

Monday, May 16, 2011

life is extraordinary in the way we tell it.

that is the secret to a more than ordinary life.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Janota

Some copy for a shoe line. Theme: Elements

Fire

Cool flames frolicking in front of your eyes. The sizzling sensation of systematic devastation. The world is set ablaze. Do you have the right shoes?

Earth

Volcanic ash shimmering in the twilight of dawn, simmering down on a silent earth. A thin streak of sunlight escapes from the belt of the horizon. It’s a new day, a new beginning. Do you have the right shoes?

Wind

Many things ride the wind. Autumn leaves broken from their homes, the summery scent of fresh grass, the waft of rain, the flutter of wings, the skip of a heartbeat. Now it’s your turn. Do you have the right shoes?

Water

Tread past the white froth sparking on the rocks. A plunge into oceans blue. Deep, deeper, until the surface is a mirage. A new universe, mystic, mesmerizing, metamorphic. A transformation, unrelenting. Another adventure. Do you have the right shoes?

Ether

Something surreal, something unreal, like the everlasting turning of a diving wheel. Mountains shift, winds change, waters tremble. It awakens, asks you to follow it into the abyss. Do you have the right shoes?

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Of Beer till Bob

Yet again I find myself in the awkward predicament of not knowing what I want, undecided if what I want would even be good for me. It's like this. You give up healthy dal-rice for blueberry cheesecake by candlelight. But you don't know if you'll miss the taste of the rice later on. Sure, the cheesecake is sweet and tastes amazing, but can you live in that one evening forever?

It's time I told you a story. A story of innocence. Of quick glances, flushed faces (only hers), racing heartbeats (again, only hers). A story of hopes, expectations that soared, flew high in the jubilation of new love. Love? Only to come crashing, burning one lazy evening. A heart that capsized in one single moment. One solitary moment, one opening of a door. Two figures that weren't meant to be. Atleast not in her mind. Waves came crashing down and walls came up. Smiles and laughter protected the sinking ship. And lifeboats brought the ship to a shore. To catch her breath. Panting.

They say hope never dies. Like a cruel mockery it keeps you dancing. On your feet. But then there were cruel words. Insults. A show of indifference, apathy. Still there were stolen glances. A heart dancing at his sight - a sight she didn't see much. Like a rare gift. When he spoke, she treasured the sound. Still she claimed indifference. It didn't matter. They'd chosen different paths. Running on different tracks. Still, those stolen glances. That proximity which she yearned for. So unattainable. So impossible. Others took her hand, but with the other, hope held.

Years passed. Or was it only a few moments? Things changed. Glances weren't stolen. They were returned. And what more can I say? This was a story, after all. You know how it goes. This is a story. A story of beer. Of challenges. Of losing, of winning. Of new springs of hope. Of dancing hearts. Of smiles. Of warmth. Of hands shaking, spilling lemonade, when he's around. Of blushing when he looks. Of long walks at midnight. Of pitchers by candlelight. Of wine up above. Of getting caught in the rain. Of hopes, expectations. Of guilt. Of talks in the balcony. Of meeting at odd hours. Of learning how to box. Of cheese omelette. Of a conscience. Of blueberry cheesecake by candlelight. Of walks on the beach at twilight. Of sharing. Of sea shells. Of reaching out for his hand. Of sharing a secret. Of sand on his tshirt. Of acceptance. And realizations. And chocolates. And stars.

And cricket matches.

And drunken nights.

And a kiss.

And Bob. Who could forget Bob? No cleaver could end him. From the first beer to the birth of Bob. That is the length of this story.

The disclaimer? It's not a fairytale.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

disjointed. so unwhole.unwhole-y? holy? too many thoughts, not enough sense. sense as in consciousness, not intelligence. please. not the intelligence. it feels like being stuck outside a bubble. or maybe stuck inside one.

it's not breaking. it's like it's made out of diamond. unbreakable. i speak and my voice bounces around, in my own head. i yell and shout, still it echoes back to me. laughing faces come and fade away. nothing is permanent except for this bubble. but the air is running out, it has to pop soon.

things are so different now. the world's changed. it's all their fault, i swear. it's cut off my voice, my thoughts. i used to dream, now i float.

this isn't some poetic angst blog. this is me, trying to get thoughts out of my head. trying to reconnect. it's nice to move away, to start fresh. a clean slate. the old one's got puke on it and no one wants to clean up.

but new slates are hard to come by. please help me clean it up. please don't leave me stranded with the dirty slate. i know i can't do it by myself. don't leave.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Renaissance. But not really.

So...I'm sitting here. In the nearly empty computer lab at college (nearly empty except for this very dashing junior who should keep his mouth shut so that he doesn't lose the rugged charm of his good looks). I'm pondering over the very curious event of my seating location. Why am I not attending my lecture, you implore? (Yes, implore.)

Well, I got kicked out for not wearing flat black close toed shoes.

But fascism ended a long time ago, you shout!

Think again, I declare.

The whole scenario today was rather reminiscent of Nazi Germany. The administration - the SS officers. The students - the Jewish population. There are strong parallels. Just as the Jews shed their religious clothing and shaved their beards, so too did we burn our non collared shirts, our Osho chappals, and hide our tattoos, piercings and highlights. Anne Frank hid in an attic. The students crammed into the bathrooms, or into the sanctuary of the Design floors. In the concentration camps, the prisoners could see the hopes that lay in lands far away. We students of this college can only look down to the four floors of the Institute of Design, sighing in envy as they prance around in chappals, tank tops and *gasp* shorts!

Alas this drudgery. The unfairness of it all. Still we find joy. Even victims of concentration camps found certain moments of joy in their lives. We laugh at the ineptitude of some of the staff. We laugh, still incredulous, that we're not allowed to attend lectures because our sleeves were rolled up. We ROFL when a friend gets a warning letter - one of the severest punishments - for chewing gum in class. Sure, in the beginning it was all a bit intimidating.

Now, it's just an average event in an average day in an otherwise uneventful existence.

Friday, January 7, 2011

Hit refresh

Lately a discussion with a friend of mine resulted in the following conclusion: everyone is a hypocrite. Are they though? Are you? Think about it, really. One thing though, that makes everyone a hypocrite is the notorious New Years Resolution. Fated to be forgotten.

So, my New Year's Resolution this year is to not make any resolutions.

It's foolproof.

Moving on, a list of things that last year taught me.

1) Listen to your friends when they are trying to save you from yourself. You don't have to always, but it's good to get their opinion. Otherwise you could find yourself stuck in places you don't want to be.
2) Drinking is bad.
Jk.
3) It's ok to suffer, but know that there is someone out there who is putting on a brave face even though they have it worse. Helps put things in perspective.
4) Do NOT divulge in self pity. If this occurs, find your nearest wine shop.
5) Need to stop unleashing the girlfriend demon. Being yourself in a relationship is much easier.
6) It's okay to not know where you're going. Unless you're out on the streets of Delhi at night.
7) Friends matter, especially when you're up at 2 AM and starving, freaking out about tomorrow's exam you just started studying for. But not just because of that.
8) Monotony will kill you. Do something different every week.
9) It's okay to be an emotionless cold hearted bitch. It's much better than being a "wears her heart on her sleeve" type of emotional wreck. Just fyi, just because someone says something doesn't mean its true.
10) Do things you won't regret. And don't regret the things you do. Patronizing cow, aren't I? :)

Oh, and I have another resolution for next year - to stop myself from becoming a corporate sell out. So much for my first resolution.

Well that didn't take long. Hypocrite, you shout? Nah, it's only efficiency.