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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. 

Thursday, February 2, 2017

I'm going to smile.

I'm documenting that I smiled today. Today was good because I found smiles where none existed. I got a good night's sleep and found comfort in the arms of my friend. I teased someone till he was red and I listened to Lazarus after years. I fell more in love with my professor, I sang to myself, I checked up on the people I care about. I survived. I lived. I flourished. 

This is to document a day of normal, routine happiness. In the drudgery of life, I think I forgot to notice the tinier details that make me happy. I'm happy. And for today, that's all that matters.

My David don't you worry, this cold world is not for you... So rest your head upon me, I have strength to carry you... 

Monday, January 30, 2017

Let's Hurt Tonight.

I'm so done.

I'm so fucking done with myself. I don't know why I do, what I do anymore. I don't know if I'm just going through the motions or if I have some purpose in life. I want to curl up in my sheets and not look at the world outside. I'm not strong enough, not tonight. Tonight is for hurting. Tonight is for weeping. Tonight is for locking my doors. Tonight, I want time to stop. Tonight, I want to freeze. 

I wish I could be sure that tonight is all I need but I'm not so sure. With me, I never am. Because when I break, there's no putting the pieces back. There's an uninterrupted shit-storm that hits the ceiling.

Over the years I have learnt to deal with it by myself, all alone and so it's out of character for people to be here for me. I had got used to absenteeism to the degree that presence now annoys me. I want to be left alone. And after all, if I project it enough, you will introject it and turn it into a self-fulfilling prophecy right? 

And the one person I got used to having - well, life came between us too. Of course it did. So I do all these things, in an attempt to find some comfort but I only burn bridges all around. I've set myself on fire and there isn't any water in sight. How ironic that he used to call me rain. And today I am my own worst enemy, unable to extinguish the inferno within. 

I know what I'm going to be told...

It's going to get easier, easier somehow.

But, not today.

Today I am done. I'm done with me. I'm done with my past. I'm done with getting screwed. I'm done with screwing up. I'm just done. What will it take? What more must I light up to be set free from this hell? What do you want, you evil one?

Tell me now, where was my fault. Tonight I can take it because tonight I'm particularly mad - at myself, the world, just about everyone. Where was my fault in loving you with all my heart? You, the first one to twist the concept of love in my mind? Or you, the one I called my sister but you never really considered me one? Or you, the one I truly gave myself to only to be jilted and left out on the curb - cold, alone and clueless? 

What did I ever do except love you? Why was it never enough? Why was it too much? Why? Why did you ruin me for him? If knowing love means knowing pain then I'm done. I'm done with love too. I don't want to love because now it means I've become the monster I so hated. I've become all of you.

I'm not the naive three year old who told her mother, "If bad people don't change, why should the good people?" Little did I know, they're forced to. The world doesn't leave them with a choice. But now that I'm one of you, I disgust myself. I didn't match up to the one ideal that I held close to my heart for as long as I remember.

And yes, maybe that meant getting hurt and being broken down and taken advantage of but that was still better than being the one who inflicts the pain. I am not okay with being "practical"... I miss the un-scarred, un-tainted, un-wise edition. 

But you know what this practicality ensures? I will get up, brush this off and keep moving forward. That much I have taught myself in these years. Because getting over you, and getting used to having no expectations from you, and always getting bypassed by you for someone else taught me this - I am all I will ever need. And this, has been the saddest realization of them all. 

If you're reading this, don't call. If you haven't all this while, a call tonight changes nothing. It's too late. 

I can't be saved.

Not by you.

Friday, December 9, 2016

The Scientist.

We take breathing for granted and yet it is the one thing that sustains life.
I think when I met you, I forgot to breathe.

You blocked my lungs with your smell, my head with your eccentricity and my heart with well, you. You were all encompassing and omnipresent. I couldn't run away, I couldn't hide - I had no choice in the matter. It was the opposite of coming to life - it was like losing all my senses, one sensory neuron at a time.

I think when I met you, I forgot to breathe.

You clogged my arteries with uncontrolled blood flow in and out the aorta, damaged my liver with unknown levels of intoxication and broke my indestructible walls. My bubble was penetrated and suddenly, I was bare - exposed - vulnerable, in a matter of minutes.

I think when I met you, I forgot to breathe.

You drowned me in music, waltzed me into a dream and ensured that I spend this lifetime reliving that one night, over and over in my head just because of its indescribable serendipity. I couldn't ever forget what I felt through every second of the night that changed my life forever.

I think when I met you, I forgot to breathe.

For once, I fell in love almost instantly. There was no pre-contemplation, no afterthought, nothing at all. I just fell in all the way before realization could hit me or reality could pull me back from your strong hold. Your grip on my present never did loosen.

I think when I met you, I forgot to breathe.

But then again what good is breathing in a prison? And that's what you were building for me isn't it? A prison of every moment spent with you because you knew that night that this feeling that I was committing to, was temporary - you knew that soulmates aren't meant to be.

I think when I met you, I forgot to breathe.

But now that I've met him, breathing, like living, comes easy.
However I wouldn't know its importance if it weren't for you.

Thank you for being the love that got away, because it wasn't the love I needed.
Thank you for suffocating me to the point that there was no option but to let the air inside my lungs.

And boy, is it good to breathe... 

Thursday, June 30, 2016

Caged, by love.

Dear Lover,

I've moved away and lately I feel I shouldn't have. Though this is a dream come true, this is breaking us and I suddenly don't know what matters more... My dreams, or us. It shouldn't have to be a battle between the two but the circumstances will it and here we are. Stronger than ever, we say. Then why does it feel nothing like it?

Why do I feel like I know lesser and lesser about what happened in your life, with every passing day? Why am I certain that you hold off certain words and cut off you sentences midway because you know I'll be hurt? Why do I not voice my irritation anymore because I'm too afraid and tired for a fight?

Everyone is priming me for it - the schedule, the seniors, the teachers. They are all much wiser and they have all been here much longer. But they have never seen us, have they? I want to tell them that! That they need to see Rain & Thunder to understand how we function differently; how we're destined to make it.

Except we're not.

We're just pretending these days, aren't we? Pretending to be happy? Pretending to hold on? Pretending that this works? And who am I to say anything really when I am too afraid to even try, when I'm so eager to let go. The ambiguity of us doesn't sit well with me and you know I am all for plans and lists and execution. However you live day-to-day. Planning ahead, laying down a map for our future (while exciting for me) is too much of a task for you. And hence the wild spirit becomes the eternal chain.

She stops you from pursuing your life's dreams. She puts restrictions on your time line. She demands and demands and demands. Never fully accepting that this will never be the life that you really want. She's made you so afraid to want even. You're afraid to want because the eventuality in which you don't get it is catastrophic. So you keep wanting the easy... You keep wanting her.

Relationships are addictive for this very reason. They make life easy. It's easy to want her, need her, love her even. It's the unpredictable that's more difficult. It's the possibility of a future with everything you ever dreamed of that's bloody terrifying. 

So, you've stopped dreaming. But she's still a dreamer. She still wants. She still aches at the absence of your want. Her desires are insatiable, and yours so very minimalist that they make her feel like a phony in her own eyes. She grapples and struggles with the myriad possibilities, building them up for you, hoping against hope that something catches your fancy - she doesn't even mind if it's across the universe, just as long as it's your want. Because frankly she is burdened by being your only desire.

Tu koi aur hai... Jaanta hai tu...
Saamne iss jahan ke... Ik nakaab hai...
Tu aur hai... Koi aur hai...
Kyun nahi woh, jo hai...

She dreams of breaking free, not because she has grown accustomed to a life without you, she never could. But because she's horrified about what comes after... What happens when the music stops playing and we're left out in the cold? 

Tu jahaan ke vaste, khud ko bhul kar...
Apne hi saath na, aise zulm kar...
Khol de woh  girah, jo lagaye tujhpe tu...
Bolde tu koi aur hai...

She dreams of a happily ever after and tragically now that she has seen a glimpse of it, with you, she will never settle for lesser. This compromise of a dream that life seems to be offering her, was never and will never be enough. 'Nice' has never cut it, she likes to be maddened by desire, taken over by passion and drowned by love. And this alter-ego of yours may fool the world but it will never fool her. Your pretense will always be washed away by rain. It's heartbreaking really since you are quite the actor.

Chehre jo, odhe tune woh,
Tere kahan hai?

So let's give up? We're playing a losing hand here. Fate, circumstances, little lion man and now even parts of us are working against us. I would fight to keep the dream alive except I don't think we're dreaming the same dream anymore. We're under the same sky you and I, just miles away from the horizon we planned on conquering when we first set out to write our legend in blood and tears. I guess the tears will still pave way for many a stories though. After all, unfulfilled loves can make great love stories only as long as they are unfulfilled. 

Saamne aa khol de sab...
Jo hai dil mein, bol de ab.

Friday, November 20, 2015

You wrecked me.

It's funny, whenever I come here I write about the love that was. It's become a museum of unsolicited love. My personal museum of pain. I guess I am not eloquent with happiness. It doesn't become me, or my words. Or maybe I am a masochist deep down.

Hey, you.
I have let you in my thoughts, tonight. Maybe for the night, maybe my brain will be the harbour for our sailed ship a little longer, I don't know. It's funny how all things broken always have you in them. Broken glass frames, broken souls, even heart-broken songs. And this brokenness is my sanctuary. I choose this sanctuary, tonight.

Now that we have a premise, how the fuck are you? It's been a while and I don't think I will ever really know how you are doing. Doesn't mean I don't wonder. Doesn't mean I don't still talk to you in my head or imagine what you would say. I have good imagination but all I imagine from my end is... Silence. All the music and lyrics in this world are already doing a pretty neat job of expressing what I would say. I guess me talking is hence moot. Besides I have run out of words. Since well, my words did drive you away.

I was taught to persevere, not give up. "You're not a quitter" Dad would say. So I thought it applied to love as well. But, not quitting on you? I taught myself. I taught myself to keep dialing those digits in my head when I could no longer pick up an actual phone to do it. I taught myself to chase faint memories when we stopped making new ones. I even taught myself to hold on to your fading voice. But I couldn't teach myself to not want you.

Don't get me wrong darling, I don't want want you. I just... want to know that holding on was not a mistake. I want to tell the daughter that I don't intend to have, to never give up on someone she once loved. No matter how un-redeemable the lover's actions, not even if the whole wide world gives up on them.. I want to tell her to hold on tight because that's when they need you most.

But you... You don't need me at all. You're well and prospering and even though I wish you well I think there's no way to come back from the poison that has seeped in. However, I don't forget. We were almost good for a while; almost had ourselves convinced we were infallible legends. But legends have a way of existing only in fables and tales. We exist only in my thoughts. And words.

 My words will always keep you alive, darling. It may kill my writing but I will continue this library of all things broken, for you... for us. A writer owes her muse that much atleast. You, darling are my pen's favourite muse. Always have been. Hemingway once said, "There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit at a typewriter and bleed." You provide an endless supply of that blood I need to shed. No matter how many days pass, it is still as fresh a wound. I guess wounds on the heart never do heal. Maybe it's just me. Annoying cardiac tissue, mine.

Annoying playlist too that I keep making for myself, of all the songs that I would have sent to you.

"Mujhe lagta hai ki baatein dil ki
Hoti lafzon ki dhokebaazi..."

I will always find you here, you know. This is increasingly becoming a shrine to you. Despite not wanting your love, your thoughts will return I know. I have accepted that, just like I always accepted you, all of your rage and madness. But you know the one thing that has changed?

I will never say those words to my non-existent daughter anymore. You, darling lover, wrecked me.