You've got me!

"At the end of the day, when it comes down to it, all we really want is to be close to somebody. So this thing, where we all keep our distance and pretend not to care about each other, is usually a load of bull. So we pick and chose who we want to remain close to and once we've chosen those people, we tend to stick close by. No matter how much we hurt them, the people that are still with you at the end of the day - those are the ones worth keeping. And sure, sometimes close can be too damn close. But sometimes, that invasion of personal space, is exactly what you need."

I know what you're going through is hard. The transition bit is always the worst. You're supposed to move on to newer, they say better things, but your heart's still stuck on to old thoughts and memories. You don't want to let go, not yet.

You're not letting go. You're just going to have to shut them into a little box for now and keep them safe till the time you can feel them around you again. Because for now, all they'll do is haunt you.

Distance is a bitch. It's the reason I'm not physically invading your space and making you scream fuck off at me. But you're still close man, close to your home, your world. You're a six hour ride away, you're a damn phone call away. There are people who would kill to be in your shoes right now, studying in one of India's finest institutions, staying in the capital's poshest colonies.

Those who stare at the past too long have their backs turned to the future. and frankly, not many would even be thinking of this past. Admit it, people all around are changing already. why would you want to be the only constant left behind? Constancy is synonymous with stagnancy now.

Breathe in the freedom, feel exhilarated in your new surroundings, be proud of yourself for having made it. Tell me your secrets, ask me your questions, oh let's go back to the start.

Nobody said it was easy.. it's such a shame for us to part.. nobody said it was easy.. nobody said it would be so hard..

I wish it was easier. But it isn't. And it's not going to be. Let's be clear. You'll never find another me. I was pretty awesome! But then, am I not still with you? In your dances? In the random hot boys? In the delhi momos? In the buses and in the autos? In the maggie? In every song you ever hear on your iPod? you want me to not be there, but I'm all around. Just like you're all around me. In the rains, in the scorching heat, in the songs and in the silence.

I'm learning to live with the memory of you, of us, and of everything I've left behind. I hope you'll learn faster than me. Because as I said, I hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain!

I was always the broken one who needed mending baby, not you. You're so fucking special.. I wish I was special.. but I'm a creep.. I'm a weirdo.. Let me be the weird one man. You be the happy one! Live Delhi for me, if not for you. You know it's always been my dream city.

I can't muster any more gay words to tell you I can't see you like this Rats. so take a damn hint. You're my sister, you're my family, you're all I've got.

and I will breathe you back to life.

For you, a thousand times over.

Girls' night out :D

Ever since I was a kid, I've wanted to be a boy. I mean, admit it. They have cooler lives, they are more chilled out beings. They make better friends, they're less judgmental or so they pretend, and they know how to live life without attention hang-ups and ego issues.

But the amount of fun you have on a girls' night is well, unparalleled. It's a class apart. You don't get that sort of happiness by hanging out in a group or in a quiet candlelight dinner with your boyfriend. No undermining intended but a girls night is well, a girls' night.

There's spilled alcohol, uncontrolled giggling, side glances, uninhibited dance, madness on the table and on the floor, laughter, tripping, flipping, gossip and so much more. Every night has it's own story and not until you've had a girls night, do you realize how much you'd needed it.

frankly, you need space. we all do. This ultra cool species called "guys" tend to mess up our lives a bit. They take up space, and with it they take a part of our identity too. willingly or unwillingly, the girl does always give in to a guy's whims and fancies. mostly it's out of love, or affection between two friends, or care. we give in gladly, we give in reluctantly, but we do give in. they change us more than we'll ever be able to change them. for the better, or for the worse, at times you miss the old you. and with your girls, that's the you, you get to be.

I've had a lot of girls' nights, advantage of having been from a girls' school. we've had confessions and truth-and-dares and "I-have" games and explicit narration of our intimate moments and so much more. we've had advice-giving and opinion-taking sessions.

but what I like best about girls' night is, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. breaking down this metaphor, it's an unsaid rule always that whatever happens that night, stays within girls. there may not even be any dirty secrets, but it's just this thing, probably the reason why guys have always been enamored by our exclusive night-outs.

In short, if you've had a crappy day, all you need is a girlfriend and a bottle of tequila and some music and it's all going to go away. Boys complicate things, lives. Girls make it so much simpler, easier.

Oh and if you need tips as to which girl to have the perfect night out with, a certain Shail Jalan would be your best choice. no one quite matches up to her energy level, her warmth, her carefree attitude, her capacity ;D and her ability to make the smallest of things change to the best moments you'll ever have. I'm glad that all my girls' night outs are going to be with her, for the next four years atleast. and hopefully even after, right Yang?

Cheers baby, to us, the night we had and the many more to come!

Musings, part I

Today was a very random day having no significance whatsoever. One of those days when things and events just blur into each other.

I'm looking forward to tomorrow though, glad to be looking forward to things again. I hope I recover from this illness, I hate being sick.

Insomnia has hit me again. Maybe reality is becoming better than escaping to dreams.

Me and my friend had a long discussion on drugs today. I can't believe what the youth's come to. It's funny to realize how little I can do to change it.

I think Aashika Jija's way of writing has an impact on me. But then would this fall under plagiarizing?

My head hurts. Need to get off this computer now. Oh wait, one new notification! :P

Boy, you do make me sweat. LOL.

Let's erase the lines tonight.

definitions.

why must everything be defined? why not let some things be a blur? why must we set rules, define everything? why must everything be put under a category or a tag or absolutely anything at all? why can't it just be well, what it is. without the need to be put into words.

spontaneity.

why must we act according to the society and it's norms always? why is the guy a stud and the girl a whore? why can't we let things be and just do what the heart wants. isn't that what we've always read about? go after what you really want, not what others want.

chase.

does it all break down to the chase? is man never really satisfied? with anything he has? so he chases more, always. but then once the chase is over, would he feel the monotony again. I wish this chase never ends.

july.

it's always had a zing about it, a certain something that no other month had. it still does. it makes me dizzy and trippy and happy. but July ends. a little too soon always. make it stop. make this stop, for a bit longer at least. I don't want to let go, just yet.

the night.

it's my favorite part of the day. always has been. but with you by my side, it has a certain magic. it's beyond definition, it's spontaneous, it's a chase, it's just about everything I love. so should we break the rules baby? let's make the lines seem like a spot on the horizon. Hold on to me, and don't let go. Just for the night, I want to be in every breath you take and I want to know that my skin makes you cry; Like your friends don't matter, like mine don't exist. Let's spend tonight in our little haven, making love and talking. We can talk about whatever you want, anything! I can drive you insane and keep you guessing later, but let's give each other this one night.

the ends.

they're abrupt. and they're sad. and I hate them. but it's the ends which make way for new beginnings. they're what set things apart. they're actually what makes tomorrow what it is. and sooner than you realize, it is a new memory which you don't want should end.

smiles.

that's what makes your face come alive. that's what makes your face what it is. that's what makes you charming. oh the smile, that's what is infectious. and addictive. the question is, am I an addict?

In the end, everything will be okay. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.

A : "On the bright side.."

B : "..wait! is there a bright side?"

A : "There's always a bright side baby, always."

B : "Then why don't I see it?"

A : "Because somethings are not for you to see. Like the sun rays, like the real size of all the tiny stars in the sky."

B : "But then, what is their purpose."

A : "There's a beauty in feeling, not seeing."

B : "I think people just say that to make themselves feel better."

A : "Then does it make you feel better?"

B : "No. I know better."

A : "But do you really?"

B : "What are you even saying?"

A : "What are you saying? That you'd rather see everything right?"

B : "Um, yeah!"

A : "You say it now, but you wouldn't really. If you see all the sun rays and blind yourself with them or just feel the warmth which would you rather have?"

B : (silence)

A : "If you could just see the enormous size of the stars rather than be dazzled by the patterns of their tiny shapes and feel their brightness, which would you chose?"

B : "I think I know what you're implying."

A : "Good, it'll help you understand things more, people more."

B : "I do already. Is that why you never say you love me? You want me to feel it?"

A : "No darling. I never say I love you because I don't. There's a different between feeling and wanting to feel. The thin line between what it is and what you'd want it to be. The thin line between reality and illusions."

B : "Then I want to believe this illusion."

A : "I know baby. At times living an illusion is so much safer than reality."

5 essentials.

1. I love typing. The words seemingly come to me better with a keyboard. Letters, syllables phrases, sentences just have a way of forming themselves while my fingers type whatever it is that my brain is thinking at the moment; at times I feel it’s all so well co-coordinated that I myself realise my emotions only once I’ve put them on paper. At times when I don’t know what exactly is on my mind, I sit down to write, and sooner or later I do find out.

2. I love music. Words hurt, music heals. At times it’s so good to know that another person has gone through the exact same as I’m going through now. It’s so easy to lose myself in the words, in the beats. It’s surreal. I listen to repetitive music, you can call me a conservative but I like listening to something I’m at peace with. Something that helps me discover a part of me.

3. I love reading. It’s a whole new world, where my existence is immaterial. I’m going through a fast-forward version of someone else’s life. Which may or may not be better than mine but it’s rarely the same so there’s a thrill, an excitement to find out what happens next. I hate putting down a book that I’m reading; almost as if it’s movie playing and I’ll miss it if I engage myself in something else. The characters, the plot, the very imagination of the writer to me in enthralling. To be able to create a world apart from my own, a vivid one at that, in front of my eyes, is the most difficult task a writer is set to and yet, the most exhilarating.

4. I love the internet. I shall forever be indebted for the creation of internet, because it is truly man’s best creation according to me. It helps me be with my friends mentally even when I can’t be with them physically. It helps me stay in touch, it helps me be me. It’s funny but I feel paralyzed without signing in once a day. It’s like I feel incomplete until I’ve opened my mail everyday. That’s what helps me carry on when everyone and everything starts seeming so distant.

5. I love me. Yes contrary to public belief, on most days I am in love with the person I am. I used to hate being me, living up to my name, my image that I’d created. I’d started hating stretching myself just to prove myself every time. But I like me, way more than anything else. I can look in a mirror all day, making faces. I can do just about nothing all day and still be happy with myself. I can cry and whine and throw a tantrum over the most insignificant things but I can also care, understand, laugh, not-give-a-fuck and yet love and support you more than anyone else. I can party kick-ass if you want a Paris Hilton. I can be totally mute if you need a listening ear. I can make you feel very good or very bad about yourself. I can give you the right advice, the appropriate advice and also the most reasonable one. I can be totally mad or totally sober, whichever you may please.

So yes, I know you all think I’m a compulsive-depressive-pessimist but no baby.

I love being the multiple, multi-tasking person that I am; I’d be pretty bored of being plain-Jane, repetitive, monotonous and predictable all the time. I hate predictability man. So you’ll never know my next move unless I let you in on my evil plans! :D

Cheers to nineteen years of being a true case of multiple-personality-disorder.

I was, am, and for forever more shall be, the maddest girl you ever came across, but also the most unique.

My defense:

Most people were raised to believe they are just as good as the next person.

I was always told, I was better.

Original Sound Track - Aisha

Music has the power to heal. It has the ability to fuse people worldwide.. instigate certain feelings.. induce emotions.. make you connect to yourself.. it makes you feel what you've been yearning to feel but just didn't know it quite until that precise moment when that beat struck against your eardrums.

I've felt this after really long, I felt it last with the album by One Republic - Waking Up. It had been a sort of awakening for me, every time I played that album. But I linked that to a certain person, attached certain memories with that music and soon, the beauty was lost.

I am used to having memories with every song on my playlist. Everything reminds me of something. But at times I don't want to be reminded. And so it's nice to stumble upon something new, something fresh.. something which leaves the option of making new memories, open.

The soundtrack of Aisha did that for me, after a long time. The words spoke to me, and me alone. A chorus that none other could quite capture. Softly, silently, bringing nothing but a whiff of peace, just before dissolving into a completely novel tune.

My favorite would be Lehrein undoubtedly. From the first instant, there was something about that song that pulled me in. I would dedicate it to anyone reading this.. that song puts into words what I feel.. the music would be the theme of my life.

This last bit is for you Priyamvada;

I find solace in this music. This music doesn't hurt or sting like the rest, because I'm not haunted by your thought when I hear this. Thank you, for not taking this away from me too.

Yellow.

I used to chase yellow butterflies. You liked to shut them in a jar and keep them; then watch them struggle and die. It used to amuse you perhaps as to how you held chains to someone else’s life. And I was your alibi in that murder for a casual entertainment of yours.

I used to buy cracked yellow china and porcelain plates because you liked the particular sound they made on hitting the floor, when you smashed them against it. I used to sweep away the pieces and throw out the trash quietly as you went for your walk, which you only took after an anger outburst.

I used to book tickets for a vacation every month because you liked to travel. I would pick up stones from our journey when you weren’t looking, as a memoir, since you hated photographs being clicked. You said it broke the fluidity and spontaneity of the moment.

You didn’t like my study so I used to hang pictures of us there to assure me that we were still together. You would storm into the study and tear them apart at random times. I never stopped putting them back together by cello tape.

You liked reading books. I would buy you a new book each week, just to see your intense yet eager face coming alive with the turn of every page. You never let me read them. You dismissed them as unworthy of my time.

I liked to visit my mother’s grave at the cemetery. I would take yellow sunflowers for her every Sunday as they were her favourite. You’d accompany me reluctantly and that cigarette never left your lips, even if it meant ashing on my mother’s headstone.

You loved rain and thunder. We shifted to a place where you could have more of both. You’d come back from work and see me curled up in bed, afraid of the lightning. You never said anything but quietly came and curled me within you.

You were a rage in bed. Our bodies collided with perfect motion, but somehow I could never quite match you. You were relentless and untiring as I tried hard to keep up.. you never forced or coerced me for more.

At night when we lay together, was when I felt closest to you. It was like your heartbeats spoke to me, the words that you never said. Those creases on your forehead never relaxed but when you held my hand I knew that I had the right to touch, and the power to dissolve them.

You liked your space and I never invaded. I guess I got used to staying not with you, but the thought of you.

Cancer took you away soon, much too soon.

I wonder if you were making it easier for me.. by becoming distant. If you were, then it was a bad try. Your anger I know, was never directed at me. It was always your war against fate and conflict with God.

I never believed in God, having lived with an Atheist like you all my life. But I saw you resort to prayers in the dark when you thought I wasn’t looking. I hope that you didn’t break your convictions for my sake.

Your memory will never be enough for me. The shine and rage of your eyes will never die. The flame that you alone could ignite in me, may have died now.. but the fact that it once shone, and shone its brightest for you, will never be questioned.

I live as a proof that we existed. I see all those torn pictures now, the scars of which I could never hide. I have that broken china, those cracked glasses and everything else that you thought you were destroying. You couldn’t destroy enough baby. It’s all intact... right down to my soul, which is still yours, and forever will be.

I maybe sleeping alone but at times I do feel an odd warmth around me.. as if your arms are still there. And when I open my eyes I realize that you’ve taken up my dreams too. You couldn’t even bear to spare that part of my existence, could you?

I close my eyes and feel you all around me. In the maddening thunderstorms, in the warm morning rays, in the captive butterflies, you’re everywhere; and yet you’re not. It’s with a knot in my stomach that I open my eyes, always hopeful that I’ll get to see a glimpse of you. But I never do.

I don’t visit your grave. I know you wouldn’t like it. But I still travel. I revisit all the places we’d been together and relive all those moments that you forbade me from capturing. Your essence is still there.. in those meadows.. in those shadows.. in that vast, all encompassing ocean.. in every grain of the beach sand.. in every cloud of the moonlit sky.. in that horizon..

that is a memory that neither you nor God himself could taint, destroy or take away from me!

Letter from a Daughter to her Father

You taught me these words, these alphabets and yet when I am to write to you, I find myself at a loss. I feel nothing I ever write will come even remotely close to what I want to say. Neither do I have the vocabulary, nor do my words have the power to get across the intensity of my emotions.

I think I should start by thank you. For all that you’ve done and continue to do. The standards you set, the principles you believed in and the morals you’ve lived by are enthralling and continue to be difficult to follow. But to see how you’ve never compromised and led life on your terms is something that stirs me.

I find it hard to define perfection. I find it harder to fall in love. So, I am in love with fictional characters. Hence the love of my life has been Howard Roark, a character from The Fountainhead. I never thought I would see a man like him in real life. But you’re someone who comes very damn close Papa. And that for me is the highest degree of compliment I can give a man.

I should come next to sorry. For all the times I disobeyed and disrespected you. I maintain that there were times I was right and you were just unwilling to give in. But well even then, I should have been the one to give in. The sort of arguments and discussions we have had, you and I, are unparalleled in a father-daughter history. I have truly had the freedom of speech.

You always stood by your word. A promise made by you was never broken. I am where I am because you are a man of his word (except when it comes to quitting cigarettes, LOL). You’ve appreciated honesty, inculcated courage and always, always had my back.

The only thing that’s ever broken you is me. The only thing that’s gotten tears in your eyes would again be me. I used to cry for hours when you called me a disappointment. But as I add another year to my life I realize I was precisely that for a man like you. You raised me to be an extraordinary person, and as of now I am nothing but ordinary. If I grow up to be even half of what you are, I would be truly happy.

I used to feel always that if I could, I would change a million things about you. And yet, today there is nothing I’d want different. I’d want you to be as strong and strict and hard. I’d want you as my father in every birth. There isn’t a safety net quite like you, anywhere in the world.

Your mails, your letters, your “what’s-up beta”, your smileys, your calls, your voice.. they make me ecstatic; they make me strong. You make me who I am. You’re a part of me, you’re with me everywhere I go. You’re the reason I go on. I can’t quit on you, ever again. The immeasurable pain I’ve caused you can’t be taken back but I want to do everything in my power to make sure I never cause it again.

My friends call you Hitler. I don’t disagree. But then I don’t mind being your Nazi. For life.

I Love You.

Crash.

Find it in your heart, to give me a little love.

Find it in your heart, to give me just a part of you

and I'll keep it safe within me.

Find it in you, to love me just a fraction

of what I love you

and I'll love you even more.

Find something for me to keep going

and I will..

breathe you back to life

Find me knocking at your door

and open it wide,

take me in.

Find a reason to surprise me

and take my breath away

and then watch me take away yours.

Make me a memory, something to remember

long after you've gone

because I need those memories, to keep me going

.. I feel forlorn

Make a way

to come to me

and I'll crash into you baby.

Let me crash into you.