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Tuesday, July 10, 2018

How many goodbyes?

Always and Forever

How may goodbyes will it take?

It's been almost thirteen years since I got to know you Rats. Thirteen. Wow, that's longer than all my relationships combined. We have really grown up together, have't we? Though I don't know how much growing has happened in this span except maybe growing closer and growing a little numb to the pain that surrounds us. Maybe we have grown wiser, maybe we have lives figured out backwards, maybe we're still kids who just drive to each other's houses now instead of walking and use any and every possible hobby to connect (most recent example: yoga)! Or maybe we're just Rats and Meow and that means different things on different days - but almost always ends up meaning everything. 

How many goodbyes will it take?

We have said goodbye to each other one too many times as we grew up. Even one was hard but this continued torture of having to get used to you not being walking distance away from me is just exceptionally painstaking. I know how the world works but I guess I just am always praying for us to end up in the same city and somehow we never do.

How many goodbyes will it take?

Is there a number after which it will either get easier or so insanely difficult that life itself gives up? if yes, I would like to know because this uncertainty kills me a little bit more every time that I realise that our time together is limited. I have mental throwbacks to the Red Bus and I wish we would have talked more than we did, really talked but I guess singing songs at the top of our lungs and learning lyrics was of far greater importance. As I type this, Promiscuous (Nelly Furtado) plays and I realise how we have changed over time and eventually become the exact same person. I don't know if I'm ecstatic for me or depressed for you.

How many goodbyes will it take?

One too many my love, one too many for me to ever accept that we're not together because I carry you with me, I carry you in my heart. I carry you with me no matter where we go, I carry you to cafes and bookstores; I carry you to bars and clubs; I carry you to my lover's house and my place of work; I carry you in my dreams and hopes.

Because I've said this before and I'll say it again because you know I mean it like nobody else -
For you, a thousand times over.

Friday, July 6, 2018

Ishita, Krishna, Blogs

I am back here after a month and I promise this will be (hopefully) be the first of (many) posts that isn't about a boy, or a man, any man. 

I came here today and after years I read some other blogs and I realised why I used to come here and what this blog did for me. It took me reading some really sad and moving things to realise the absolute obvious - I'm not alone. No matter how horrible my emotional state, no matter how much I'm dreading my birthday, no matter how broken I feel from within - I'm not alone. 

Nobody is ever alone. I just need to keep reminding myself. I need to keep reading and writing like I used to - not caring who does or does not read it; not caring if it makes sense; not caring if it's good or worth it. Writing for the sole pleasure of writing is of the main reasons why I never took it up professionally. But I had promised myself that I wouldn't stop writing. That was the condition. How could I forget?

Also, I want to do this gratitude activity starting today. Here's wishing me luck and thanking all you beautiful bloggers for restoring my sanity, even if briefly. 

PS: Sappy post about BFF leaving town is incoming. Prepare yourselves. 

Sunday, June 3, 2018

An apology.

It's over, it really is.

I guess I don't want to accept it but it is. It has been for a while and I don't know how but I need to wrap my head around it. Accept the finality of things. At least start entertaining the idea that there's a very real possibility that we never speak again and that you're not a part of my life. 

It's over, it really is.

I guess if it is then all I want to say one last time is that I'm sorry and I love you. I'm sorry I have pushed you to a point where you're all alone. I'm sorry that you have to doubt everything and believe the worst about possibly what was once the best thing in your life. I'm sorry that you are doing things that you hate yourself for, just to stay sane and put yourself first. I'm sorry darling that the misunderstandings have gotten the better of us and that all your worst fears and insecurities seem to be proven right. I'm sorry we have to bear the brunt of everything that went wrong in the past two years, career and family wise. I'm sorry that you have no more fight left in you.

I'm sorry that it's over. It really is. 

I love you and I want it to have meant something. Maybe it means that we spent beautiful moments together for as long as life let us. We could create magic because we were magic together. Dancing in theatres, on roads, watching Netflix and FRIENDS for days, being feminists, just being together. 

It's over. It really is. 

I have dreamt of you for a month straight and waking up has been torture. Waking up to a reality that is a complete contradiction of my dreams and my desires takes the life out of me. But I smiled today. I don't know if I will be able to smile always but today I felt that maybe the only way we meet now is in my dreams, and if so, then to hell with everything, I'll smile because I get to see you. Because I know with time this will fade too. 

It's over. It really is. 

I guess I will never run out of things I want to say to you or words that I want to write for you. You will be the first person I think of whenever something good or bad happens for a long time to come. But that doesn't change anything. 

It's over. 
I'm sorry. 
I love you. 

Monday, May 21, 2018

An Ode to Khilji.

I never wrote a review for Padmaavat, partly because it had already been spoken about so so much and partly because I could never entirely capture in words what that movie left me with - bitterness, anger, pride, sadness and a deep sense of regret. Almost as if the door wasn't shut on Khilji's dream of love, but mine.

Today I feel I want to write - not a review, no that is meaningless now but an ode to an insane lover - Khilji. The fact that this role was played by Ranvir Singh added so much power to this character and the second time around it was confirmed - I was in love - not with Khilji - but his insanity for this emotion.

I guess I am someone who has always had this one constant longing for love and a deep-rooted yearning that if at all someone does find it in him to love me, he also finds it within him somehow to fight for this love, to fight for me. 

Why this need for him to fight you might wonder. I certainly have struggled with this very question. Because I'm a fighter and I have always fought for the ideas, thoughts and people I believe in. I am willing to fight any man, woman or child who stands in the way or threatens any of these. I guess that's why I want someone who loves me to be willing to take on this fight as well. But that's still not all of it. But i'll get to that in a moment. The fact that Khilji was willing to quite literally break walls and move mountains for someone he had never even seen makes me want to believe that maybe just maybe someone will have that kind of strength. I know it's an impossible ask which is why I am in awe of the man who had it. He may have been a barbaric brute but his extent of love for her, his will and determination and in the end, his anguish at her loss... isn't something I can still capture in words. And I guess it's only fitting that if I can't capture it in words, what I'm looking for is also an impossibility to find.

I guess I'm yearning for this magnitude of love and fight because I wanted someone to fight for me since I was really young. Why? Because I didn't. And I didn't let anyone find out I needed to be fought for either. I hid the pain and the darkness for so long that it became a part of me. So oftentimes the person who tries to love me will have to fight not just the world, the circumstances but also me - because I will always need to be saved from my darkest demons. This will be the toughest fight of them all - these demons have defeated anyone in their path till date and I keep a tight lid on them because their wrath and fury spares no one - least of all the ones I love.

But why would someone do this you might wonder as well. I'm no timeless beauty, I'm just me. Why the wage these wars and fight these battles when there are easier paths to love? Because yes I'm no Padmaavati, I won't die for your love. I will kill for it. I don't believe in surrendering; there was always a warrior within me, it just took me really long to learn the need to fight; but now that I have, I never give up. If I love you, I will never give up on you. I have most experience fighting my demons and true, they do win some posts, but I will never let them conquer this battlefield. I'll fight my wars and yours, all you need to do is find it in your heart to be my warrior prince too. Be my Khilji - my insane, crazy, ziddi lover - who fights and never surrenders.

Then I promise you my love, you too will know a boundless love, like no other.
Because I might be a fighter but my superpower is love.
I can love like none other.
But deep in your heart you know that, don't you?

Thursday, May 17, 2018

Such a weird feeling.

I never thought I'd be writing about this... Me with my penchant for heartbreak and tragic love stories. Me with my obsession with the girl always being left and the guy never having her back. Me with my alliance to one-sided unrequited love. But I guess I forgot that my love for my mother superceeds all others. 

This one's to you, Maa. 

I don't know if you're listening, or if thoughts can follow someone in a state of anesthesia but I need you to come out of this okay? I know this is so silly of me and it's not a major surgery but I don't know why my heart is sinking and tears keep finding their way in my eyes. I never thought this day would come and yet it has. Life is finite and someday I'll be left without you and I can't face that possibility, not today, not ever. 

To be here, all alone, with my father who has no room for emotion, only reason, to be choking down my tears and to be trying to not think of the risks is just not something that comes to me naturally. 

Today is a day I learn a lot. I've been learning to rely on myself for a while now but today I accept it in totality. I carry you with me Maa, in my heart, and that's all the love and strength I need. That's all the love I ever needed. 

Now just come back to me quickly so we can play a round of sequence and hate on this world together :)

Saturday, February 10, 2018


I used to come here, when nothing else made sense.
I would come here when everything began to make too much sense.

I have a problem, I breathe in every movie, every song, every novel and make it about me. I can't function without the arts and I inhale them to the point that the boundaries get really blurred. A TV show doesn't just stay that - it takes on a life of its own, inside of me. I am therefore constantly living so many lives, I am so many people, all in one. I don't know who exactly I am because I find parts of me in everything I read, watch or listen to. They inspire me and I feel like I inspired them in some warped way. I know not every story is about me but I sure know how to find me in every single one. Every story that means anything to me, becomes me.

I stopped coming here because it gets too much. It gets too much to live and breathe and be inside my head all at once. It gets too much to write about you, or him or him. But it gets too much to not. It never makes sense like it does in this fleeting moment, and before I know it, in the blink of an eye, it's gone.

I can pick up the phone and try to explain it to you but you wouldn't get it. Because I don't get it. How could I? How could you? How could anyone ever understand the tiny self-destruct button that I have inside of me and that only I have access to, and that only I know the triggers to. And yet, with this knowledge, I trigger it because that's what keeps me alive.

I'm a complex person, really complex and yet sometimes my needs are simple. I guess it's the simplicity of these needs that I'm trying to outrun. I can't be just ordinary, I want the different, the spectacular. But maybe the ordinary is the spectacular.

It's funny because sometimes I know I'm over-complicating it all. At others, I'm not so sure. I'm just stuck in a limbo with no escape because the limbo is my own head. I think pain is so very important to my existence that I don't know how to live without it. It's a part of me.

So I keep creating more. There's been so much pain that a life without it seems incomplete. I know how ridiculous this seems but pain is more familiar than happiness. And so I go on finding new ways to ensure there's always room for more.

So good luck to you if you're reading this. You're stuck with this me - and I'm a true masochist. 

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Live on, Thunder.

This is harder than I thought. Closing the door on you, on us. I may be an expert at goodbyes by now but that doesn't make me any better at them. To watch all my plans come to an end and shatter in front of my eyes takes the life out of me for sure. I have trained myself well so now the tears don't flow as easy and the urge to see you and weep in your arms so it will all fix itself is withering. I think once you survive by yourself long enough, you realize you don't need anybody else's help in doing it. I have been broken so many times before that now putting myself together takes relatively less time.

Inevitably, the people I trust with all my heart, misuse this faith that I placed in them. I gave you the power to hurt me and guess what? You did. I let myself be vulnerable thinking that there was no way in hell that you would let anything harm me, little knowing that you would transform into someone who did it all by himself.

Jee ve sohaneya jee, chahe kisi ka hoke jee

Like all my past lovers, I wish you well. I end up wishing everyone well. When you love someone like I loved you, there's no bitterness at the end of it all. there's just a void - a you shaped hole in my heart, where you used to be.

There's a place in my life, that I carved out just for you that I don't know what to do with. I imagined a future only with you in it so I think that is something that will take time. The worst bit is that we really tried, didn't we? I can't even blame you because I know this relationship was difficult for you. I was difficult for you. You should have run for the hills when I asked you for Annabelle you know? I mean what good could come off a girl like me? I introduced you to the horrible side of this world and broke all your belief systems. I broke you.

But for once I know I didn't break us. Maybe you didn't either. I guess it probably was always going to break but I fooled myself into thinking that it won't. That you were my Aditya. That you were God's answer for all the times I had asked, "Why me?" I thought you were going to stick, I thought we were going to be what legends are made of. I forgot that the last time I felt this way, the legend became the legendary storm that destroyed me. But he did leave a lesson in its wake. So no, I won't be destroyed this time.

I'm done with love. I don't want to experience it anymore. Love is pain and pain, as you said, demands to be felt. Well, I don't want to feel it. I've had a tough life and I demand happiness. I can't make you incharge of it - I've got to be the bearer of my own happiness. Any time that I rely on someone else for it, it bites me in the ass.

Maana ke tu ab nahi mera, kabhi tha mera bhi

Just a day earlier I had said to a room full of marriage counsellors how despite my experiences at the family court, I was rooting for love. You killed the love within me baby. Many people have walked over and abused the little girl inside me, but you pulled the final trigger. You killed the idea of a happily ever after from my story.

Monday, August 14, 2017

But she fell in love with an English man.

Hello there.
I'm in a nice mood today so I thought I would write to you. Music is the only thing that sometimes puts me in a mood to write to you. I don't know why but it seems like a song you would have smiled to even though the singer isn't your type. You might have dedicated it to me and I have this feeling in my gut that for some time to come I would have been your Galway Girl.

Just the way Sheeran says "Pretty little Galway Girl" has a ring to it that reminds me of you. I thought my brain and the music industry had finally run out of such things. Nuances I tell will be the end of me :)

I have such a nostalgic smile as I type this. Today I'm not angry. Today I'm not sad. Today I'm me and I'm glad we met. I get so much flak for this that I don't allow myself to feel this way often. Your hatred/ambivalence/indifference makes that really easy too. But as I said, today I'm giving myself a no-guilt pass. Maybe it's my latest defense against you or the part of me that will forever believe that she and she alone knew the real you. Actually I'm more scared of the latter - this twisted part of me - has the capacity to derail all that I've worked for. Such is the power of my darker side but then I guess we all feel that way about our wild alteregos.

I was always one to believe that crazy is my normal state so it only makes sense that every once in a while I seek it out. And if I didn't know any better I would still be seeking you, my go-to link for crazy. You're a symbol of losing control, of not caring, of being a badass bitch. So it's not you so much that I miss but this reckless, carefree version of me that didn't need to adult all the time. She didn't need to be patient or empathetic to the needs of others. She lived in the moment for hedonistic pleasures. She wasn't expected to be mature or caring. She only did what suited and pleased her.

She's the Galway Girl.

So as I listen to the song on loop today at 5 am in the morning, it's an ode not to you but to my youth that allowed me one year of reckless happiness. The stories from that era are just that - unbelievable stories that leave me hungry for me. But that's the thing about addictive adrenaline high experiences like the ones we had together - they eventually drain you out. However for today, I focus not on the downer but the high.

She played the fiddle in an Irish band,
But she fell in love with an English man, 
Kissed her on the neck and then I took her by the hand,
Said 'Baby I just wanna dance...
My pretty little Galway Girl.'

So thank you my Englishman. I'll be in your city soon and thanking you for that dance and for letting me be the Galway Girl. It was always going to end, but you made the ride so bloody addictive and imprudent that I can't help but smile. The time we spent together was really time that I stole from the world for myself. It was like one big, bad score before quitting the game altogether. There's just so much that I need to continuously care about now that I just want to thank you for giving me a world in which I didn't need to care about anything except being your Galway Girl.