Thursday, September 26, 2013

just upsetting.

Sunday, September 22, 2013

A letter from August 15th, 2012.

Dear FutureMe,
So like a wimp, you've set the time on this to only one year in the future, because for some reason you're really scared right now. Oh cmon, you know why you were scared at this time. Life seems like it's falling apart and you don't really know who you are anymore.
Well time heals all wounds. It's cliche but I hope, for both of our cases, it's true. I hope that you've learned some things though by now and implemented them. I hope you had fun in Newcastle. I hope you lived happily with as little drama as possible. I hope you found the best of friends in your dorm mates. I hope also, that you didn't fall in love, or if you did, you did with the right guy. Your trust issues? I hope you worked on them. And I hope, for me, please, that you never let someone treat you like that again. Remember that you deserve to be treated well. Please remember. Don't forget that. Don't repeat things. And appreciate the ones who do that for you.
I hope that you gave it your all, and got some really good marks! This is your future after all. And hey, remember your dream of doing some good for the world. Don't let go of that, it's what keeps you apart.
I'm so jealous of you right now. I wish I could be where you are now. This place here sucks. I've turned into something I really wish I wasn't. I hope time helped fix things. And I hope you've grown into an even better person. And hey, going through all of this. I'm sure there were some lessons. And some good things about it. You learned to cook, for example! Please God, be able to cook better now that you're 22! It's time consuming and you're lazy I know. But by now you should have atleast learned how to make a decent cake. And cheesecake. Actually it's okay if you didn't learn the cheesecake.
There are so many things I want to say. Right now, I've taken sabbatical from the most aggravating thing in my life: my now over relationship. I hope I don't disappoint. I promise I'm not complaining to my future self :P Do you still overuse the colon p? Are you getting teary eyed? Is your hair finally long!!!!? Oh oh! Also a pact. To not cut your hair for a year! And yeah, I hope after this experience, you became stronger and a better person. We have this problem of victimizing ourselves. We should stop doing that.
Oh and, I hope that on your 21st birthday, you had a blast! And I hope you've made out with a couple more people. Is it strange that I'm enjoying talking to myself so much?
And I know you're on the brink of your career. Remember what I said. Work to make the world a better place. Work in a happy environment. Be proud of your work and yourself. And reach out to old friends, tell them you missed them a lot.
Be there for your brother, and for your parents. God knows they need you.
And I do love you, maybe not then but definitely now.
Oh, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Here's your gift :) In case this 2012 world ending apocalypse thing didn't actually pan out.
Your still 20 year old self

Thursday, September 5, 2013

"She had always secretly reproached him for not loving her enough. Her own love she considered above reproach, while his seemed mere condescension. Now she saw that she had been unfair."

Milan Kundera.

Monday, August 26, 2013

Going back home from the university to the Bigg Market at three at night on a weekend is like living in a badly made remake of Dante's Inferno.

The first circle of hell - the 24 hour McDonald's at Haymarket, without a doubt brimming with emotionally wrought couples fighting over the betrayal of the night. In the midst of their sordidness, the drunken busker croons love songs on his guitar. I cross the showers of tears, screams and Geordie abuses and make my way forward.

The second circle of hell - the Monument. Swarming the square are groups of Lads, leaving havoc in their wake, whilst I try to avoid their advances with deft, Matrix style moves. Basking in the yellow moonlight bouncing off the medieval stones in the square, there is always a lone man, sitting quietly amidst the turbulence as if in a bubble, under the Monument, charmed by the fantasies of some faraway world.

The third circle of hell - Bambu. The squeals of women in irrevocable pain from wearing freakishly high heels (the illusion of height seems to be the greatest pathway to redemption here), and the drunken slurs of men who intoxicated themselves into a stupor so they would no longer notice their vixen like high pitched sounds of death. I make my way through the suffocating maze of bodies and sweat, the chaos of ambulances and engulfing fumes of vodka and cigarettes, onto the very last circle.

The last stretch of the journey - the fourth circle - the final frontier - my street. I am greeted into the alley by arches of men facing each wall, releasing the intake of vast amounts of liquid. I must cross this raging river of urination, and like a ballerina, make my way to my door. Finally the quest comes to an end. I am safely ensconced by the embrace of my refuge, my home.

As my journey comes to an end, I can still hear voices of the lost, inebriated spirits, singing disenchantedly, slurring loudly, beckoning. I shut the window, climb into bed and breathe a sigh of relief.

I hate bank holidays.

Saturday, August 10, 2013

voices

"I think we should stop talking."
"Okay. Why?"
"Because I'm scared."
"Scared of what?"
"Scared of holding on to the past too tight and not being able to accept new things."
"Fine then, don't talk. Bye."
"Wait, don't go."
"Make up your mind, woman!"
"I'm trying. I'm just confused."
"About what?"
"About us."
"What about us? There is no us. You have other guys now."
"It's not the same."
"What am I supposed to do about that?"
"I don't know. Nothing. Tell me, what are we?"
"Us? We're nothing. You got rid of me remember."
"Don't say that. How could I get rid of you?"
"You didn't love me anymore. Simple."
"But I did! I do!"
"You don't. Otherwise you wouldnt be with other people."
"My heart hurts."
"What now?"
"I don't know. You're going."
"But you left a long time ago."
"But you're going now."
"What difference does it make?"
"It feels weird. You were supposed to stay. We were supposed to meet again."
"You weren't going to come back anyway."
"Of course I would come back. Now you're going to leave. And start a new life."
"Well, now you feel how I felt."
"I know. I want you to be happy. I don't want you to think about me anymore."
"If you don't want to talk anymore, you should just say so. Don't put it on me."
"No, you don't understand. It's hard moving to a new place and still thinking about the past. Living in the past."
"You live in the past?"
"Yes. Always with this hope that we might work out some day. But I know it won't work."
"And why is that?"
"Lots of reasons. You want to marry someone Christian. Then there's all the fights, the jealousy. Would it go away? You used to bring out the crazy in me."
"I didn't think you were crazy."
"You didn't?"
"No man. At least, most of the time I didn't."
"I can't live in that constant jealousy anymore. I feel like I'm drowning. It makes me gasp for air."
"Then you should stay away from me."
"But I can't. I tried so many times. I don't know what to do. I'm so tired."
"That's great to hear."
"Please don't be mad."
"I'm not mad. You just never realized how much I loved you."
"Maybe."
"Jesus christ."
"I did know. But then other things happened. They blocked everything else out."
"This again?"
"No, no. I don't know what to do."
"What do you want?"
"I want for you to move on."
"Really? That's what you want?"
"Yes. No. I don't know. If you don't move on, I can't move on. I keep hoping for the future."
"But you moved on!"
"I tried."
"Didn't succeed?"
"No. Kept them all away."
"Why?"
"I don't let people get too close now. It feels uncomfortable."
"How come?"
"I don't know. I just don't feel like going through the crazy again. Not for a while."
"Are you okay?"
"Yes. I'm getting better, I swear."
"So what do you want?"
"I want you to live your life, and not be hung up over the past. I don't want to keep you from new things and new people. I want you to be amazing in your new world, and I think that won't happen if we keep talking."
"It will be alright. Breathe."
"Okay."

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

liquid state

Lately, I've been crying a lot.

Over tiny, small insignificant things, like emotional moments in cartoons, or the thought of my parents far away, or my inability to connect with some people or the fact that my brother is growing up or my past self or the impossibility of the future, or just because of the fact that I've been crying a lot. I don't know why little things bring tears to my eyes these days. It feels like years of rage or troubles are melting out with every tear. I cry for humanity (too heavy?), although I'm not a saint or wise or omniscient in the least. Or am I? I could be. I do have a knack for.. well okay maybe I'm not omniscient.

There's just this sadness. It's not depression or anything. I feel sad that I am changing. That for the first time in a long time, I'm not dependent on anyone. That I must live up to my mom's expectations of being strong, and brave. Years ago, whenever I used to break down in front of her, she would tell me, "Be brave." And I guess, now I associate bravery with that feeling of desolation.

I'm scared that I will not achieve any sort of greatness. It's not my dream to become a global icon for change or anything. I don't expect myself to become the next Mandela or Suu Kyi, but I'm scared I will never be able to fight for something I'm passionate about, because I still don't know where that passion might be ignited. Nothing excites me, except for writing sometimes to an imaginary audience. Where I feel I can take the floor and own the stage and all of that.

I'm scared of being mediocre. Of having no opinions. Of not being able to bring anything new to the table. I think that would be the biggest waste of a life.

I'm sad for what the past me had to experience. What my pre-teen self was put through. It wasn't pretty, and it definitely wasn't fair. I don't feel sorry for myself, but I do feel sorry for that little girl.

I'm sorry for that life that was extinguished before it could begin.

I feel like my being is going through a metamorphosis, and that shedding tears is like shedding off my old skin and putting on a fresh new one.

It might be that.

Or, more likely, it might just be PMS.

Friday, June 14, 2013

when one song can take you back to the terrace and the mattress and the planes and the look in his eye.

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

things that people say/do that make me want to slap them

1. when people ask "do you speak english?"
2. when people say, "oh you're from India? But your english is so good"
3. when people say, "oh you're from India? such a beautiful country/i love indian food/i've always wanted to travel there/are there really cows on the street/my great aunt's cousin's wife's neighbor's daughter was there five years ago"
4. when for the millionth time, the cashier at Tesco asks, "can i see some ID?"
5. when people say, "how can you not like/have heard of *insert vague musician here*?"
6. when people say, "how have you not seen *insert vague movie title here*?!"
7. when people say, "how do you not know who *insert random sportsperson's name here* is?"
8. when people say, "but you're not really asian asian"
9. when people complain and bitch and whine and moan incessantly about the same thing over and over and over and over again.
10. when people take pictures of every meal and instagram that shit. no one cares!
11. when people tag themselves in different places on facebook every fucking time they go out. NO ONE CARES.
12. when people say, "you lost your wallet? how could you let that happen!"
13. when people say, "omg you lost it!? thats TERRIBLE now your life will be miserable!"
14. when people say, "oh you're listening to it now? i was over it ages ago!"
15. "wow you're eating rice? thats really fattening you know. i only eat salads."
16. "those shorts? really?"
17. when not wearing makeup, and people say "why do you look so tired?"
18. "you left at two? i stayed all night in the library working on coursework"
19. "you have uni problems? they're obviously irrelevant as life is much harder out here in the real world"
20. "oh your accent is so american, you're obviously an ignorant and spoilt NRI."
21. "oh your accent is so indian, you must obviously ride elephants back home in your village."
22. "you're from a foreign country, obviously we will give you no chance to finish a sentence without first mocking your accent"
23. "you're not really Indian, as you haven't lived here all your life"
24. when people travel just to say, "look world, i'm in europe and i'm cool!"

long needed rant.

Thursday, May 16, 2013

hate an ugly day.

Friday, May 10, 2013

I think the general rule of thumb is, the things you don't want to change, will change. And the things you want to change, won't. The secret is to stop crying over it, accept it and move on with you life.

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

can't wait to be leaving on that jetplane.

Friday, May 3, 2013

this morning, i was supposed to wake up early and go to the gym, but obviously, my sub-conscience was vehemently against this idea of physical pain.

instead, i had really strange dreams to keep me occupied and in bed. even as i type this, the dream is becoming more and more faint. but i do remember, two of my friends and i happened to be in switzerland, on a beautiful and blue but cold, white, lonely and isolated mountain where a woman lived. and we stayed at her house, and there she revealed her ability to turn people into puppets. not metaphorical puppets, but actual ones made out of yarn. somehow being a puppet was easier. and from there commenced a puppet battle for our lives, with yarn flying all over the place.

we survived. and the woman realized that life was much better as a real person. and then to celebrate that momentous occasion of victory, we got some passerby to take a picture. it really was beautiful there. and i remember missing home so much. and how much my parents might be worried that i'd been stuck here for days and weeks. and i thought to myself (in my dream) that even if it were 3000 miles, i'd start walking now till i got back home.

luckily there was an airport nearby, and we flew to prague, and from there we were meant to go home, but i woke up.

it was such a lonely dream that i woke up feeling disoriented and depressed, missing home, and a bit scared of puppets (or turning into one). but its a nice spring day outside so those feelings are fading away.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

need

some stormy weather

and some happy people

Saturday, April 20, 2013

once upon a time, there was this young swordsman, who would spend hours underneath a tree, practicing his art.

night and day, his sword would swish through the air, as the tree protected him from rain and gave him apples when he grew tired and hungry.

sometimes, the swordsman's sword would cut across the tree, creating a gash. at this point, the swordsman would stop and repent. "dear tree", he would say, "forgive my actions, for they were caused in foolishness."

and the tree would wave its branches in the air, and shower the swordsman in leaves, and stand tall still.

for many months, the swordsman practiced underneath the tree. as he grew stronger, so his power with the sword grew too. consequently, the cuts he drew on the tree grew deeper and deeper, slicing the tree more and more.

one day, the swordsman finished his training. he was now strong and ready to step out into the world. he bid the tree farewell. "goodbye, dear friend" he said, "and thank you for standing by me these many months."

he left.

that night, there was a terrible thunderstorm. the wind howled and screeched, and the tree, unable to withstand any longer, snapped and fell to the ground.

Saturday, March 23, 2013

never tried blogging whilst drunk. not that im drunk now.

what's funny is that while typing here im eating a muffin. its a little bit ironic.

so i had a horrible and wonderful night. so many emotions swirling everywhere. and why is this city filled with drunk disgusting men! must move to a kingdom far far away. with princes and shit.

so many secrets and lies and betrayals and desires i feel like im living in a good indian soap opera. which of course doesn't exist. so i must become asexual and live in domesticated isolation so that my life remains simple and happy. but that's the problem, that i don't want to be alone.

but i don't want to be with anyone who wants to be with me, and i don't even want to be with the person i want to be with. because fuck that shit. past shit is done shit and no one needs that shit anymore.

time to become a monk and look forward to some inner fucking peace. right now the accent in my head is very strongly scottish man because of the company i was in "mahn" haha.

i really hope things work out. and that everything is okay. so much STRESS! aaaaaaaaa.

time to breathe. peace out man. peace out.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

friends to lovers to nothing

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Sometimes I look in the mirror and think I look pretty. But then I realize that I'm alone and think that maybe I'm wrong.

Don't get me wrong, this isn't some unhappy rant about the travesty that is my love life. Nor is it some great reflective commentary on life and all its glorious meanings. Just me and the weird thoughts I have that I think are too weird for the world. But then, there once was a man who thought sticking beads up his ass was a good idea. So I realize the precedent for weird thoughts is quite high in society.

I wonder if anyone ever has those moments, or days, or weeks or months or years, where they feel like there is a wall between them and the people around them. It's a really amusing feeling sometimes, you know, when you can just sit back and think to yourself, "Dance for me, my puppets!" But then you're so busy watching them and you forget that they're people and then you don't know what to say to them after you make an inappropriate Pinocchio comment and no one knows what you're talking about 'cus lets face it, you're on a whole different tangent. In another dimension.

Sometimes I laugh to myself over conversations that I have. With myself. In my head. No, really, I swear, I'm really funny! This one time I tried to explain to a friend a joke that I'd thought of which kept making me crack up. So basically, it involved my sexual fetish for the library. Which I don't have, really, but circumstantially it was funny. Anyway, so of course then the guy thought the joke was really weird, because he was like, why do you want to have sex with the library? (Yes with, not in.) But I was too busy laughing at this awesome joke to explain.

Maybe, I'm just too brilliant for these foolish mortals. But then I remember that I'm needy and messy and insecure and like my Maggi cold and can't walk in heels and then I think, who am I to judge?

Sometimes I wonder what would happen if someone ever actually understood the workings of my mind. Actually, that's not true. Lots of people have come close. Actually, that's not true either. Some have. I'm glad for those people. But then, moving here, to this new place, I have to make a whole new set of people understand and adjust to me. And while I make myself...adjustable... I feel like I'm losing the person I was.

That's why we have blogs. 

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

promise me
that when we reach,
however long it takes,
that you'll take a walk down the shore with me,
whatever time it is,
and we will watch the sunrise together... 

Sunday, January 13, 2013

ive been called "the traveler." the person who comes into your life for a short while and then disappears.

for once i want to meet someone who gives me a reason to stay.

who doesn't resign himself to the fact that "this won't last." because things don't last unless you want them to last.

or maybe there is some inexplicably undesirable thing about me that no one can stay faithful to for more than a few months.

this is just sad. 

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

sick

sick of feeling angry but im willing to bear it because you can't push anger away. it comes back to surprise you.

sick of hearing your apologies because they don't mean anything. i've heard them before, but nothing ever changed. ever.

sick of complaining to my friends. they don't deserve it.

sick of hoping that you've changed.

sick of being miserable at the thought of the people you talk to.

sick of being that insecure jealous manic bitch.

sick of giving you chance after chance after chance. it doesn't work when you dont even realize what you do wrong.

sick of believing that we could have a shot sometime in the future.

i dont want a shot now.

keep whatever image of me you want in your head. im not coming back.