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Monday, December 24, 2012

2012, Good fucking Riddance.

With less than a week to go, it's time for the yearly ritual. Step back and take a look at all that's been. Usually I write about people or moments that stood out. This year will barely have either for it's been a blur of bullshit and a truckload of crap that I'd rather just forget and put behind me.

This is one year that shall not be missed. Not in the slightest. I think it's safe to say that it's been the worst I ever saw. Every time I felt I hit rock bottom, it found a way to wind me up further for a greater fall, a deeper pit to wake up in. I've been a whiney little bitch - there's no other way to put it - pining over what I lost, and what I continued to lose in new ways every single day. And now I think it's high time I stopped being miserable.

This is what has happened. Sure it isn't what I wanted. And yes, everything has only gotten worse since. Every bridge that I ever built has burned to ashes in front of me. But maybe it's time to build new ones then. It can't possibly be any harder than it's already been.

Yeah, nothing happy feels even half as good without you but then maybe it's just not supposed to. I am accepting my fate now and not fighting the odds. I am tired. I'm allowed to get tired right ? I am also allowed to give up. On you, on us and on my dreams.
I wish this wasn't how it was. I wish I could go on living in my little bubble. But it's time to stick the needle in it. So long and thanks for all the fish.

Among other things I do need to mention a few people. Mom and Dad - who continue to surprise me with the level of love they have for me. I'm truly blessed to have them in my life. They were why 2009 wasn't half as bad and this shitty year was, because I'm not home and don't get to be with them. They know how to keep me sane in this world of insanity and their hugs have the ability to calm down my reckless nerves. I've missed you both and I've realized how life would be nothing without you in it. Next in line will obviously be Priyamvada, who has tried to believe in me despite the amount of crap and ranting I put her through. I am glad that we've seen this year through, like the seven before it and I hope to ensure the next one is nothing like this. Another person who deserves a big, gigantic thank you is Mr. X (reserving the name), for trying to fix a broken me and making me believe that I'm not damaged beyond repair. You're the best thing that happened to me this year.
Among the new friends section I think there's just one name worthy of a mention. Aadhar. You know why don't you my love ? *wink* 
But I'll say all the uncensored details anyway. For thinking of me with everything United related and taking the trouble to try and feed my book addiction and following my story idea's popularity even more closely than me and managing to put a smile on my face in times I thought it impossible and coming out of nowhere (literally) to become an important part of my day. This is the only time I'm going to say it so save the page and take a mental picture to hang in your living room and show your kids, but thank you for the late nights and the wake up calls and everything in between.

As for all the old names - Abhinav, for somehow managing to get even more under my skin than before. You sir are the one thing I'll miss most about Philippines (yes! Though certainly after the cheap alcohol and smokes :P). Shail, for finally letting me in and becoming the elder sister I always imagined her to be. The whole CRACKD jingbang for the random silliness and outbursts of love. Noriel, for being my only friend in class and finding it in his heart to see me for what I am and not what these people make me out to be. And lastly, Anirudh; for managing to be honest every once in a blue moon. It wasn't nearly enough but it's fine. If you'd rather everything stay buried under a pile of pretence and we live on running away from the perfection at hand's reach, then I'm finally on the same page as you. Forgive me for continuing to love you like I did. My lips will never form those words again.

It might have had more downs than ups this year, but it was a ride nonetheless. I shall remember you 2012. For taking my smile and turning into something I don't recognise anymore. THIS has been rock bottom. And now finally there's no way but up.

"From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring; Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king."

Monday, December 17, 2012

"This year's love" - My Entry for the Get Published Contest

A lot of us have spent our lives trying to decipher the actual meaning of this four letter word and somehow always fallen short, which used to make me wonder if it even exists, if it's real or just a myth. That feeling within, which can send you reeling in a spin of blissful delusion - was it for me or did I sidestep it as I hurried through life ?

The story, This Year's Love, is the narrator's tale of meeting her soulmate by sheer accident and how one night changed both of their lives forever. The narrator flies across miles to visit her childhood friend and boyfriend at the time, Sameer and ends up engaged in conversation with one of his acquaintances instead. As alcohol and words flow freely between them, it's hard to decide when exactly they realize that their chemistry is more than just a coincidence, it is fate. The boy who claims to be her soulmate, Anirudh, is also dating his long time friend at the time, Arya. The story unfolds and as these two people decide to give this divine intervention a chance, love triangles are formed and age old bonds severed for what they both believe is a once in a lifetime love.

This story deals with not just the rainbows and butterflies of when they decide to take on the world together for it feels so right but also what follows once the narrator heads back across all those oceans to pursue her education. It's about how those few days become enough to last for the months to come that they spend apart and how distance can drive a wedge even in the most beautiful of love stories.


'As she stepped onto his feet, he smiled and pulled her closer. His hand on her waist was sending tingles up her spine and as she looked up into his eyes, the crowd of people started to fade away around them. He whispered the song ever so softly in her ears and took a whiff of her hair as they continued waltzing to a melody so pure and apt that it would be cheating destiny to resist this. Inches away from her face and those big, brown eyes, he admitted to himself how this was the very first time he could see clearly. She parted her lips, trying to say something but nothing needed to be put into words; not that either of them could've described the perfection of the moment anyway. 

But as he listened to the ending notes of her favourite track draw to an end, fighting his insides to not swoop her into a kiss that very instant, she pulled away from him and ran - putting as much distance between them as was possible in that little room in which they'd been left alone.'

This is my entry for the HarperCollins-IndiBlogger Get Published Contest, which is run with inputs from Yashodhara Lal and HarperCollins India.

If you like it enough and would like to read more or better yet, see this in print, please like it at:

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Doll's birthday.

I would like to think that this time I've outdone myself.
Happy 21st Priyamvada.
I love you more than words can say, but here it is anyway. A blog worth of words for you.

Saturday, November 24, 2012

After oh so many days and nights.

Today I'm going to write. The words I've been holding back and the words I burnt and the words I catch my breath by but never let slip. I thought this was stronger, smarter, more adult. I will get back to all of that tomorrow. Today it's about not holding back. It's about being the fool I long ago confessed I was. I might lose the nerve any second and the words scare me even as I form them. Happiness. My perception of it is very different from the world's. Maybe I like tragedies more. Tragic little martyrs. I'm like that you know, twisted little thing. Little, yes. My happiness got overshadowed by yours long ago. I saw it happening but I never tried to change it. Slowly, I forget when but it got totally swept out - out of the picture - the picture of us in a dilapidated frame. But there's a certain mystique to history you know? Our history. I chose to write it like this, yours over mine till mine became yours. Why? Yours is so much more precious. Mundane things make me happy. Like remember when I would post a part of a song as my status and then you'd reply to let me know that you do, so fucking much, that would make me happy.  That princess slipped between words or an overtly repeated baby. That semi twinkle in your eyes when you saw my watermelon face. That goodmorning ritual. All of it. So it doesn't matter because it's immaterial and easily achievable. I don't strive for the easy. Yours however is a whole different story and I want to see you at the pinnacle of ecstasy. Don't get me wrong, us, happy together is not a thought I've forgotten but you. Ah, you. 

I used to write poetry back when words flowed like molten heavenly drops of rain from the sky but now they just stream down my face instead. I hold you close and catch a whiff of you from that shirt that I allow myself to hug at night every once in a while when I can no longer stand the distance. If I close my eyes long enough, your face is clear. Nothing is trampled upon, no emotions scarred and there's bourbon in the cabinet and a packet of smokes by the headstand which has your hand placed against it, my head somewhere close by in it. You never did let it hit the bed. You know. I imagine broken things too. Me crying as you cradle me back to sleep. You hold my face and tell me how you hate me for ruining your favourite shirt and I cry all over it anyway. We hug and I have a flight to catch but we don't let go. We're the only ones standing at the airport as shutters around us are pulled down on everything. I breathe in your chest and you find your fingers entangled in my hair, unwilling to leave. I guess for once we listened to a stupid band called The Fray. 

I wrote you a letter. I wrote you a story. I even wrote you a song. Why did I never send them ? Silly me but they were all sillier you know. We were silly. Arguing and bickering and never letting the other one win. Well, you can have your victory now. In everything but this. Here I'll always win and I know that you know it somewhere inside you. Somewhere it still echos, the melody you sung for only my ears. It never stopped playing you know. Every once in a while you pick up that rusty guitar and strike a few more chords whether in remembrance or because it's the tune that comes naturally I'm not sure I know. At times you go all the way and even sit back at your drum kit and hit back all the notes of happy and crazy and insane. Thiish thiish thirtaat. Your drum roll. For us. You walk out the music room but I hang back and watch the cymbals ache for your touch and crave for that passion. Records are strewn about, covers of magazines we made love over, a broken string and I put it all back and assemble it till I achieve perfection until your next visit. 

Bits here, bits there, bits of us everywhere. Let's go get high ? And on the walk home you can tell me about how I should have not had that last drink or danced by the pole. I'll let you be possessive and walk out with your hand in mine. Claimed territory. Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain, you did always like your girls insane. Do remember to kiss me goodnight though as you drop me home. I think I feel my lungs burning; the face is definitely getting paler. I guess I'm getting deficient. You told me that day how I looked different and I didn't agree but I wanted to tell you the why to it too. So much holding back. God. There's you in the balcony. Sitting on a ledge that's our second home. Let's walk the line ? I write my name in the sand and add yours as an afterthought. They did always look symmetrically brilliant together. We say hello. You say goodbye. I'm not going to be told how to set it right, how to put myself above everything else. I was that girl but back when I was not your.. And I stop myself. I guess there's only so much that I can confess in a day. I didn't come here to say anything consequential really but just come, you know, to the boy; my boy. You know. Someone somewhere today said: 'I didn't say it to hear it back you know.' 
Neither did I. Nor do I. 

I love you.
I always did love you more.

Your brown eyed girl.

Ps. But if you love me...

Monday, November 19, 2012

Wreck of the day.

Letter to Self.

Don't buy all the things people sell at the little shops by the busy streets. They're just making a livelihood for themselves by indulging you. Don't fall for words people tell you; words of compassion or love or comfort. There is always an ulterior motive. Don't read into the unsaid for too much is unsaid and you can at times imagine much too much than there ever really is. Science is the only thing which is non tangible and absolute. It doesn't mess with your head. There is a logical explanation to everything. You just have to work your way through to the bottom of it. Don't overestimate someone's potential. There's usually a bias there. You care too much, when you shouldn't. Don't sail too far away from your roots. It's very difficult to find your way home. Don't underestimate someone's ability to hurt you. That usually leads to a plethora of just that. Don't dream, just please do not dream. After all these years, that's one thing you need to give up on most - Dreams.

"If this is giving up, then I'm giving up,

On love."

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Tuor's dream.

She knocks on his door and his flatmate comes to answer. They don't know each other and she whispers her name. The quizzical expression on his face doesn't change and she implores him to just let her in. He looks at her bags and decides she couldn't be much harm. She's flown a long way and he is sleeping. She'd kind of wanted him at the door, she'd wanted to knock the wind out of him for once. But she knew the chances of that were slim anyway. She keeps her stuff aside and hovers around his bed for a bit. The flatmate is still apprehensive so she dials another friend who might be able to calm the nerves of this suspicious, fidgety stranger. Once the call is made, he offers her water which she politely declines and asks if she could have a moment alone with the boy she flew all the way for, instead.

As the flatmate shuts the door behind him, she gets out of her heels and climbs into bed with him - let's call him A. He's sleeping face front which makes it kinda difficult for her to lift his arm, let alone roll him over but she manages to wriggle underneath it still. When he barely moves, she whispers in his ears instead trying not to nibble at them and yet failing to maintain her resolve. He opens his eyes just a fraction and looks at her face trying to peek from under his arm. He turns over to adjust himself in her and she smiles.
'Hey, you.'
'You came.'

She kisses him as he pulls the covers over them and pulls her deeper into bed. 'This better not be a dream', he mutters.
'But what if it were, would that be so bad?' 
'No, just the thought of you here, on my arm is almost as nice.'
She slowly extracts herself from him and bends over his face, then gradually lies over him instead. She did love being on the top.
'I've put on some weight, no?'
'So this isn't rib crushing?'
He smirks as he mocks the very notion, 'you think?'
'And this?' is her next question as she hugs him as tight as her fragile bones allow.
He merely smiles, hugs her back, then ruffles her hair.
'No kid.'

They kiss again and she hears his thoughts as he forms them.
'Please don't be a dream, I want to wake up to you.'
'Just try to remember this when you do open your eyes.'

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Maaa, the most beautiful four letter word.

It's late in the evening,
She's wondering what clothes to wear..
She puts on her make up,
And brushes her long, blonde hair..
And then she asked me, 'Do I look alright?'

And I said 'Yes, you look wonderful tonight.'

You look wonderful every single night Mom. Whether you're in a saree that I wanted you to wear or in your comfy pajamas, ready to call it a night. You're beauty personified. Because you're beautiful inside out. As you lie down to sleep every night and put those eye drops, if I'm in the same room I always take those five minutes to just look at you. Remember when I was really little, it was a game we played because I wanted to scare you? Actually it was never that. I didn't ever want to startle you, I just wanted to be the first person you saw when you opened your eyes. However as time went by it became a joke and then as I grew up some more I wasn't even around most of the time to see that serene face which brought me so much peace. Now when I look back at all this I find myself wishing I'd spent more time sharing that afternoon coffee with you, or made you that cup of tea even when I didn't want to, or blown off my favourite tv show to go for a walk with you for now it seems like moments spent with you by my side were the ones that brought me most happiness. You have always brought me a whole lot of happiness.

You've been my best friend through everything and always stood up for me, even when I was wrong. You have always known what it is to have my back. You've taken the longest to forgive people who made me cry and you've been the easiest to make up to. You've covered for me when I most needed it and helped me get permissions when Dad wasn't willing; hell you've even taken an active interest in my love life in the most fun way :P

The secrets I kept from you have always been the ones that destroyed me which is why I am so happy that none of them exist anymore. You cannot imagine what it means to me to have that one person in my life I can share everything with without the worry of acceptance. Sure, we've had our ups and downs but I don't worry about 'us' anymore. We can survive anything together. You know why? Because of you. You're so strong Mom that you've withstood the worst of hurricanes and protected me while at it. You've been there through every failed friendship, every bad break up and every sucky academic result. I know I never do much to show you this but I really do love you, with every inch of my soul.

You're the reason. For everything that I am, aspire to be and hopefully will be someday - it's all you. Because my story begins with yours and there goes not a day that I don't wish for your loving arms to embrace me in one of their warm hugs for those arms could make me forget anything as long as I was wrapped in them. You're one of the most loving and affectionate person alive. I have never wanted to trade you for anybody else, even in my darkest hours. You're the one constant that has always been the silver lining to all the grey clouds. And for all of that, and so much more, I can never thank you enough.

So, happy birthday mumma. 
This is where I wish you my angel and express my gratitude for having you in my life. Trust me when I say this, I could not and would not have made it without you. You're why I believe in Washington Irving's words when he says, "A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of  prosperity; when friends desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and causepeace to return to our hearts."

I love you.
For you, a thousand times over.

Monday, October 22, 2012


So, you know how we're the generation that's commercialized everything? Even death? It used to make me sick to my stomach. Like when people put up a status on a social networking site about someone's death, I want to barf, really. The very problem being the lack of tact and then how people 'like' that status. I mean hello? What is there to like? And then the sudden flood of wallposts on the deceased person's profile. I mean what are you thinking? Can they read all this? No. Does this help anyone? No. It's just very, very insensitive and nauseating. 

But then I stumbled upon someone's profile yesterday. The boy passed away some time last year and it took my breath away to see how his friends have constantly kept in touch with him, even if through this public forum. Of how much they miss him, enough to write him tiny notes of what they're upto and how it's not the same and never will be the same without him; how they posted songs they thought he'd have liked, and kept him updated about United's performance in the leagues. It broke my heart. 

Now it's weird because I don't even know this boy at all, but I wept for him. I wept for the people whose lives he'd touched and who don't have him anymore. And that's when it hit me. This is just their way to cope with it. Yes, it sucks, I get it but maybe accepting that full stop to his life sucks more. Maybe living in a world where you can't reach out to someone ever again sucks more than writing a pathetically public post about it. Maybe this helps them keep the hope alive, that just maybe he's out there somewhere, listening.

Death has become so real with all this growing up you know. Just like that, we've had to deal with our best friends losing their parents, their relatives, their friends. We've had to attend funerals we didn't think would ever happen. We've had to console people, not having a clue as to how to make them feel better. Coz let's face it, it is not okay. Okay is the one thing it really is not. It will never be okay. The void that a person leaves once there's gone is not something that can be filled up or replaced or.. Anything at all. It's just that - a gaping hole in place of the person that used to be.

And as much of a hypocrite as this makes me, I would probably do the same. No, I wouldn't update my status yearly or any such thing. But I would write to them. Whether in my head or on a wall somewhere accessible to alien eyes depends really. But I would certainly write. For not being able to tell someone what you feel anymore just totally sucks. So here I am, telling you I love you. This is where I tell you that. Repeatedly. And I always will. Because life is too bleeding short and I need to be able to say it. If not to you, then to the thought of you.

I love you.


Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Fly love, fly.

There will come a time when every inconsequential move you ever made and ever word that you left unsaid will come to haunt you. When you'll want to introspect and go back in time to undo your mistakes. However, now is not the time for that.

Now is the time to read, absorb and learn. Really what have you been doing child? What have you got yourself so preoccupied with? Slow down, my crazy child. You've got so much to do and only so many hours in the day. Are you really letting life pass you by?

Now is the time to unhook the phone and just disappear for a while. Give meaning to your existence, find the light, the anchor to hold your ship down in these tides. Only fools are satisfied I know, your quest is long and unfinished, but you can set sail again some day for now is not the time.

Now is the time to turn off that thirteen inch screen you've staring blankly at for years now. Watching fictional characters won't shake your reality away, you can't get lost in another story, you've got to write your own first. Now is the time you dip your quill in the ink and finally form those words which have been put on hold for so long. There will be a time to mourn your losses but now is not it.

Now is the time to smile, not for what's been but for what's to come. Dance like nobody's watching, sing like you can make spines shiver and write, not of a lover you lost but of the love that guides your way. He's within you, don't you see? You hold everything within you. Your parents, your friends, your love, even the strangers you stumbled upon if only for the briefest of times; and maybe just maybe there is a reason for this unbearable separation. But now is not the time to look for these answers.

Now is the time to fight for what you believe in, to stand up for your principles, to stand up for yourself! There will come a time when there will be no more tears and love will not break your heart; it'll dismiss your fears; when you'll let emotions capture you again and you'll not be afraid to let your guard down or to let someone in; when the nights will not be so hauntingly long and difficult to pass by, and the days will be too short for you to achieve all that you've ever aspired for. But the time for that my child is really not here yet. Don't you want that time to come sooner than later or worse still, never?

So, now is the time to become not what you thought you wanted but what you know you need to be. Stop complaining child. There will be a time to go home but it is not now. When you've given meaning to yourself, I promise you, we'll go home together, you and I.

Forever dutifully,
Your shadow.

Sunday, October 7, 2012

"But if you loved me, why'd you leave me?"

The three of them met after a haphazard array of events. Nobody quite knew how they got there. Except her. Samaira always knew. She'd been running, from whom it was immaterial in the face of the present now, but it'd been a long and tiresome run, not to mention tedious and very cumbersome. Dodging the people behind her was a task but one she was quite familiar with; she ran these roads alone every night, night after night.

He was driving them to safety, or so she liked to believe. Kent, he was good at that. Popping up when she most needed him. Kind of made her believe in all those tales Dumbledore had told about help always coming when those in need, asked for it. In that one desperate moment when she'd close her eyes, his was the last face that'd flash right before she was to give up hope, he was the first choice and the last resort; her broken knight in shining armour.

And then there was Nayna. The reason they'd first ever met. Nayna had hated herself for that for a long while. She'd known Clark all her life and Samaira had just waltzed in and made him Kent, a totally different person who tore her world apart. But well they'd all moved on, atleast she had. She wasn't one to hold grudges and forgave easy. And who was she to complain? She now had her perfection - the one that had stared her in the face all along but she'd been much too much of a coward to admit it earlier and then circumstances had played their toll. Now no more, nothing was keeping them apart any longer. She finally had him - Her Aditya.

Nayna's phone rang and she answered it. Looking out the front seat window, Samaira didn't need any clues to who it was on the other end. Aditya. He used to be Samaira's closest friend at a point.. Before things went so horribly wrong, before she picked the wrong guy, before..
"Yeah baby. That's what no. Marry me", spoke Nayna into her cell phone, giggling. Surely it was some private joke she wasn't in on. She'd been the outsider for so long now, with everyone. Maybe she liked it that way, maybe this was what was meant to be. So she stared on ahead into the oblivion as Kent blasted the music, as if sensing how the ongoing conversation was unnerving her.

As she spoke into the phone, Nayna couldn't help but notice the increasing frequency of Samaira's coughing. Did Samaira really expect her to hold off the conversation just on account of the former's feelings? Boy, she had some nerve. After everything she'd been through, she didn't owe Samaira anything.

Frankly, the girls were getting to him. Over what were the pining? That loser? Really now. The prize was still at large, didn't they see? He accelerated the car and drove them to a dilapidated warehouse. It was raining so they'd need to seek shelter and warmth. Perfect. He had just the spirits required for the particular occasion.

She sat down on a rug as Nayna started to light a fire. She'd never been good with all this. As she watched Kent pour them drinks, she didn't wait. Instead she downed all of the first three shots one after the other. He hinted a grin in her direction and she tried to ignore Nayna's presence and condescending statements. She was trying to be friendly but the alcohol was a much needed catalyst required for any headway in that direction.

"So, this is quite a threesome huh?", Kent ventured.
"And not one you hadn't imagined either" came Samaira's blunt retort. She seemed to be on the edge, Nayna noticed. The why to this had no clear answer but it was time Nayna tried to calm matters down. They were all clearly stuck together for the night and she hated unpleasantaries.

"How have you been?", she saw Nayna's lips move. Those must've been the words for she was good at lip reading, not so much at holding conversation. She let Kent and Nayna strike up one as she continued staring at the raindrops gracing the earth, across the window. So much had changed and after a full circle, she was still here, still standing - that was reason enough to celebrate some would say. She wasn't one of them. Samaira had never been one of them. As she heard them flirt casually, she wondered what Aditya would make of it. She had half a mind to call him instantly but she let that jealous whim go. He'd made his choice now and she'd made hers. It was time to live with it.

She looked across the room at the other set of childhood friends that had fallen apart due to the whirlwind romance that had ensued one summer. Look at us now, she thought. Two girls who loved him with everything we had. Two girls who lost everything for that love. Two girls who'd do it all over again? Nah, Nayna had opted otherwise. But she didn't know about herself. She'd never known that if given the choice would she in retrospect, run in the opposite direction on stumbling upon Kent or do it with him as her partner in crime, all over again. Would she just as willingly get played or had she learnt her lesson to never ever go down that road again ?

"Well, when it's you then any girl can feel insecure" came Nayna's cool yet seductive voice which caught Samaira's attention and she saw Nayna tracing Kent's jawline by her fingertips. She tried to look away but as their lips touched after hours of casual flirting, Samaira was in a trance.. And not one she could break.. Voluntarily or involuntarily. She could see his eyes look across Nayna at her, as if this were just some big foolhardy joke that she should ignore; as if this was a test and to pass it, all she had to do was play cool. Samaira tried to stare back but her gaze fell down instead to her feet. She turned her back to them and the fire that had been keeping her warm as a tiny tear slowly rolled down her cheek. She didn't let the tiniest whimper escape her lips, nor the slightest shiver tingle her spine and it was Kent that broke that endearing silence with his footsteps. Before Samaira knew it, he held her by the waist, turned her to face him, an inch away from his face as he scooped up hers and said, "There's no reason for HER to ever be insecure."

Those were the last words heard by both the girls as Kent swept Samaira into a kiss, one that he initiated. It wasn't the kind you read about in books; the kiss was neither wild nor mad; neither forced nor strong. It was the softest touch of lips as they engulfed one another and slowly their very bodies entwined alongwith their tongues which plundered on to seek more, to go further than either had ever been. Every kiss between them was like a story being told - the other always knew what was to follow, not because of the monotony or predictability but merely because their impulses read each other and aligned in careful symmetry always. It was like coming together after spending a century apart, they always picked up right where they left off.

She could hear Kent's thoughts as they kissed, telling her tales about how he had told his Mother about Samaira. She almost pulled away in surprise but he held on and continued discovering parts of her mouth, she had forgotten existed. He told her about that conversation and many more in which Samaira had featured, not because it was imperative but because he hadn't forgotten her, he never could forget her.

As Nayna looked at them kiss, there was not a twinge of envy, she was genuinely happy for she believed they belonged together. It had been she who had brought them together to this room to talk some sense into Clark's foolish mind. She'd known he couldn't intentionally hurt Samaira forever, and that he would be the man she had always imagined this boy to grow into, even if not for her. Nayna felt at peace as she saw the pieces of this puzzle fall into place. Maybe the four of them could finally all be happy at the same time and break the jinx they were tied into.

Samaira tried to hold back the tear that had been threatening to spill over but one look at Nayna smiling across the room, and she couldn't hold back any longer. Samaira had never believed Nayna when the latter promised she'd reunite them some day; Samaira was too much of a cynic that way. But Nayna had kept her word and Samaira had the man of her dreams kissing her, that once in a lifetime kiss that she had waited for with the tiniest ray of sunshine in her heart for expectations and hope were lost causes when it came to Kent.

As they started to break apart, his hands never left her face as Kent drank in that dewdrop like tear resting on Samaira's cheek and said in a soft, prolonged, sensual voice, "Hi."
"Hi." in her summery bright, chirpy, joy infused and content filled voice was what Samaira replied. 

This was how they said hello after all that time. This was how they'd always say hello. And then as Nayna stepped out to call her boyfriend, they dove right back into another liplocking kiss, never noticing the gas that was left burning. There was a lot to catch up on.

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Thank you, Philippines.

I forgot how good you are to me. You and everything and everyone here. I forgot that when I told myself I wouldn't need to go home this winter. What a silly creature I am. For you're not just good, you're splendid. You've given me these four walls - my best friends here, my laptop - my boyfriend, and so many memories I'll always cherish: crying alone, aching for hugs, losing things closest to your heart, wanting for everything to dissolve into nothing and reliving every one of my nightmares. You have truly been brilliant!

You made me realize what it's like to be a stranger not just in a room but in my own skin, to have nobody stand up for you, and to grow to resent the one number I always loved. You made me see how very mistaken I was in thinking I was strong willed or emotionally capable of anything worthwhile. You even taught me how to stop expecting completely, even from myself.

Ah Philippines, I owe you so much. I would've never learnt if not for you. And I know you will continue to teach me. You're wonderful like that. A lesson on how to feel utterly helpless? Check. Another on growing addictions? Check. Yet another on everlasting loneliness? CHECK.

I'll remember you always, if I make it out alive - if that's your plan for me that is. I'll remember all of this. 

19th Century.

When love was made of different things,
Stronger perseverance, unbreakable strings,
It is now an era long gone by,
And oh my romeo, so I sigh!
It was a path walked often,
But now we don't even listen
To the thumping of our heart;
As our ways, we so easily part.
Remember the eyes that so easily grazed,
And words so genuine were placed,
Into the air that carried forth the feelings,
No incomprehension of honest meanings.
The lover, our utmost desire,
Even if that meant burning alive on a pyre,
They'd bat not eyelids, nor pause for a flash
Of a second; the world in it's entirety couldn't bring a clash
Of the two souls so meant to be,
They'd die loving - they'd die free.

When love was professed as the zenith of
Emotions; not discarded with a dismal cough
It was of fields and sunsets they spoke
The promises they made, never broke
As rivers flowed endlessly into the horizon
It was a pristine and holier liaison
Than the ones we stumble upon these days,
Which is just an infatuation driven haze.
Seas couldn't have separated us then,
Love was a force to reckon with when;
But now tides have swept it all aside,
In a clash of ego and battle of pride.
It is too much to love another,
To devour a love, to cherish a brother.

When love did not bow to the crown,
For there was no fear to drown.
And I would still immeasurably sink down for thee,
If in your love forever, you'd just let me be.

Because; my love is still no mean thing,
It's unrequited passion, an endless string.
For you my beloved, your juliet shall forever sing.

Friday, September 21, 2012

The murder.

He sat back and looked at the mess he'd made. His reputation for creating havoc preceeded him. The pool of blood, the scarred face. There used to be a smile there somewhere but he took the liberty to erase that. Forever. Funny word that. Her incessant usage of it used to bug him no end though he never said it out loud. Now no more. He was free. 

If I leave here tomorrow,
Would you still remember me?
For I must be travelling on now,
'Cause there's too many places I've got to see.

He did believe in the beauty of a perfect crime. He hadn't intended to pull the trigger, no. But it was inevitable. She was asking for it really. Her with her constant whining about it being too sunny and it raining too less and him being too absentee. Well, he was here now and so was she. He traced his initials on her palm. The stupid thing she always used to slip in his - make him feel tied down. Tied to the one that he fit with with ease. But he wasn't the missing clue to a puzzle. He was the puzzle himself. He wasn't one to need someone to fit with. 

The bourbon rested neatly on her sidestand, a few drinks still left on account of her horrible capacity. She used to be able to drink when they'd met. He wiped his gun clean with the seams of her dress. Her fragrance was soon starting to fade though as the pool of blood took over, drop by drop. That annoyed him. He used to like being able to tell them all different without needing so much as a second whiff. Damn this red fluid for masking everything the same. 

He gulped down the drinks and then began the tedious task of erasing everything that might link him to the crime scene. There were books scattered around, with blood splattered on them. Hitchhiker's and Lord of The Rings caught his eye. He slipped them into the black leather bag first. Few fairytales and romance novels went in next. Damn, such a girl. There was a wrist watch with it's strap half undone due to the slight struggle she'd put up. He pocketed that. Next to seep into darkness were the toys that she had around since she was a kid. They were smiling still, almost eerily now at the fate they'd brought upon her. Serves her right, refusing to grow up despite repeated warnings.

He tore up the pictures on her cardboard. All the faces were familiar, he'd heard one too many stories about them all. She liked clinging to people, holding on to them long after they were gone. She liked to believe the best in everyone. Well, so much for unconditional love and blind faith. She'd know better than to trust a stranger next time and welcome him into her life. He took out his Swiss knife and played around with her skin, marking it with him. Good thing she couldn't tremble now, that might've halted his strokes.

He opened her drawer next. The combination lock was simple for him really. She never had kept one too many secrets. He knew her like the lyrics of the songs he first heard when he was five. Those kind of things tend to stick. As he stumbled upon a bundle of unsent letters tied up and kept in the corner, he decided to read just a few. However a few pages down the reading, he felt his eyes get numb. The bitch. She hadn't been lying. He'd always thought she was for that made things easier but these letters said otherwise. Next he hunted for the diary she was known to dutifully scribble in. Holding his head in his hands, he read words that were once exchanged. He slammed the drawer shut. 

Deciding to grace the floor with his skin, he sat beside her this once and held her in his arms. So fragile still, he recalled how happy she'd been to see him. He looked at the flowers scattered on the floor that he'd bought earlier that evening and retraced her words, "Flowers, really? For me?"
He had just nodded. The grin that followed was quite unnecessary he felt. She went on, "How come?"
He'd answered reluctantly, "Today marks something."
Those eyes had lit up instantly. The fool was expecting something else and he knew that all along. He grazed those hair that he'd loosened from the pony they were tied into earlier. 
"You'll stay the night?" she had asked him.

But if I stayed here with you girl,
Things just couldn't be the same.
'Cause I'm free as a bird now,
And this bird you cannot change.

Her eyes were still open. She had actually thought he was kidding when he'd pulled out that gun. She'd said again, "You cannot hurt me." That was what triggered it. How could she be so naive? There was no place for the innocent anymore, didn't she know that already? Hadn't he taught her anything? There was a split second of amazement when the bullet hit her chest, he hadn't been able to shoot her head though watching a splattered brain had been kind of a personal wish, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He didn't catch her as she fell to the floor either. He towered over her, as she looked up to him and tried to smile. He could see the why forming on her lips which was when he silenced her by putting one more bullet, right through the heart this time. The eyes took just a second to freeze as she managed to get those words out in a bare whisper, the stubborn mad girl, "Im meleth le."

Bye, bye, baby, it's been a sweet love,
Though this feeling I can't change.
But please don't take it badly,
'Cause the Lord knows I'm to blame.

Those eyes would infest his brain for a while. He did love those. Once.
Those eyes were what remained in his memory as he decided to set it all to fire. He emptied a bottle of her favourite whiskey over her and those belongings that made her who she was, and then lit the match as he stepped out in the cold street. As he watched her go down, burn to ashes, once and for all, her with all her insanity, he felt liberated. Little did he know, she'd haunt his dreams still. With that same smile he'd wiped off and that pair of eyes he'd taken out the life from. Forever. Funny word, that.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Wishful thinking.

I want to open the door to my destiny and be astounded by what it holds or me. I want my breath to be blown away by the mere surroundings that engulf me and to be amazed beyond imagination by a world that I've only heard about but never felt for my own. 

Image Courtsey:

The thing about travelling is, it gives you a chance to escape your own life, even if just for a bit, get out of that head and just explore. And it's almost addictive - this quest to unearth and discover the unknown, what lies beyond the realm that we've been living in.

Freshly back from a trip to the hills, my body ached for some warmth and comfort. After a much needed 12-hour sleep, I looked through my mail and found a letter (imagine my surprise when these days nobody has the time to write down emails, I had myself a letter in ink and parchment and everything!) from Melbourne. It was an old friend beckoning me to make the trip that I'd promised her long back. Just to lure me, she even sent a few pictures along with that letter which halted my life for a while.

The Great Ocean Walk.

Image courtesy:

That's the first picture I saw. To say I felt an unexplained pull to the city instantly would be an understatement. I want to walk the miles that I never could in this city life, by the sea that I so adore. I want to walk endlessly till my legs give way and I have to stop to admire the sheer beauty of my surroundings, to take it all in - not because I have to but because I want to.

The State Library of Victoria. 

Image Courtesy:,0.jpg

That was the second. My love for books is second only to my love for water and what better place to lose myself than in a world created by masters of their very field ? I have this urge when I look at any library to shut myself in and not step out until I've read all there is to be read. I want to live in the world of fiction for reality stopped making sense a long time ago and there's a certain hold that these made-up characters have on me, this enigma about them with which I can relate to more than I can with the people who surround me day in and day out.

The exotic beaches.
Image Courtesy:

I feel at times that sand defines the soul of our being - ever changing and always getting washed by the water which engulfs it's identity with so much ease and yet never quite seems to swallow it's entity in whole, for the sand remains. Footsteps that we walk and imprints that we leave may fade, but the path that we make for ourselves, never does. I want to build this new path that takes me to places I've never seen and meet people I've never known. I want to be the mistress of these islands whom every strange sailor takes a fancy to, but only temporarily for he has more unknown territory to see for himself and I.. I have the sand to trace my name in, only to watch it wash away with water so I can trace it over, more beautifully again.

Ballooning and Scenic flights

Image courtesy:

I want to see the world upside down, inside out and in it's entirety. I don't want to miss a single thing. I want vision that encompasses the whole and not just a fragment and when I saw this picture, I finally felt like I had a shot. I want to be up, reach the top - the very zenith - and then look down at the view which so rarely graces us for out on the land, we are but just an insignificant dot, but high up in the clouds, we can be visionaries. The very thought of Melbourne makes me one.

Kite boarding and wind surfing

Image Courtesy:

I want to be a tiny speck on the horizon and dissolve to nothing in the vast extent of the pale blue sky. I don't just want to see the sunset, I want to be a part of it as I soar along side the birds that I've always envied for their freedom and the very essence of liberty that they signify. I want to hold on to something, something bigger and more powerful than me so that I can't be blown away by external forces and when the time to be whisked does present itself, I want it to shake me up real hard so that I grow stronger to face whatever yet remains to be suffered.


Image Courtesy:

I want to crash in the snow and then dust it all off, shake the mist off of me and then rise up again. I want to experience biting cold, severe enough to numb my very senses so that all I feel is the nature and nothing else. I wouldn't even mind turning the crimson red shade that I always do in extreme climate as long as it gives me the opportunity to be the phoenix I've always yearned to be.

I want to fall in love again - sing, dance, laugh - even if it has to be in a night club or at one of the famous Melbourne musicals and plays or at a one of the many comedy shows organized in this city. I want to lose myself just to discover the real me that I lost in this haze called society, I know not when. I want to experience this revelation in a city that has every shade of life to offer me. I want.. I want so much and I feel like I finally know the place which has the answers.

Melbourne through pictures alone, was love at first sight. I found myself booking my ticket before I could change my mind or life could take it's course. And if at all you have that hint of hesitation in doing the same, in taking that leap of faith, I'll quote the life altering letter when I say.. 'It's your time to visit Melbourne NOW.'


This is a post under the 'Visit Melbourne Now' contest organized by IndiBlogger

Sunday, September 9, 2012

A real short story - IndiBlogger & Harper Collins Initiative.

Love is something that has intrigued the masses since time immemorial. I happened to stumble upon this article where there is  hunt for a 'real' love story by IndiBlogger in collaboration with Harper Collins. I thought to myself about how love, heartache and heartbreak marks the theme of most my writing lately and thought maybe this is what I'd been looking for.

The idea of my story is simple really. A summer time romance with a stranger. How two people discover in one night that they are just 'two lost souls, swimming in a fish bowl, year after year' (Quote: Pink Floyd). It's entwined with not just one but two love triangles, what follows and how it all goes down. The story will likely cover details of a present day relationship and it's quirks. Of things and emotions that drive us today. It'll reek of bonds formed over music, bourbon and an unexplained chemistry. And my version of love, or what I think love is anyway.

I just hope to be able to do this story justice for it's very close to my heart. And hopefully this will mark the end of my lovesick posts and I can finally set the quill down on us. I always thought I had a story to tell and where better to do it than here.

Friday, September 7, 2012

Keeping me hostage.

I stumble out of my slumber unexpectedly, almost abruptly and realize what I'd been dreaming of, again. You. In one of the million settings that my subconscious loves to create. Though this one apple didn't fall too far from the tree. A random party with countless acquaintances and you just happen to be there, which in reality will never happen for our paths will never cross again unless we want them to, but well, my dreams have other plans.

They lead me to you, over and over again. Do they not take a hint from my active attempts at trying to distance myself from your very existence? Apparently not. So I'm there and so are you and this one mutual friend who kind of likes me. And then just for kicks you ensure that you have me, probably just for the night, to prove a point - mark your territory perhaps. I try feebly to resist that charm, spark and connection that exists between us, but you never did take no for an answer. When sheer charm isn't enough, your force isn't something alien either and I almost surrender willingly. Because you're there, and you want me. Even if that means destroying something good with someone else, I can't bring myself to care. Warning signs and red lights spring up in my head all at once, but what power do they have against your lips? Against our history? Against my masochistic faith in the fact that we fall apart only to come together again.


There are stories to be written, many of them. And I'd rather that you didn't feature in all of them. It's exhausting. You walk in and assume the lead role and no matter how hard I try henceforth, no other person or character seems important once you're in the frame. Once you're in, it's like I'm blind to the very storyline - I don't care for the end or the bigger picture - I just have eyes for you. And that inevitably destroys all these stories making them mundane and repetitive, and oh so monotonous.

The little girl falls for the bad guy and the rest has been dissected over in a million ways by many script writers. It's not unknown territory. There's a lack of imagination. But what if that's the only story I'm capable of writing? Ours? What if all my stories will forever have you or a hint of you in them? That's a tragic thought as a writer, though I'm not sure if I should even call myself one anymore.


Then there's that smile. I almost forgot about your smile. When that flashes in my memory, how could I even complain? It makes up for my sleepless nights and pretty much everything that you've put me through. That one smile and I'm done for. I'm coming clean here, you own me baby. It's not even a question - it's just a fact - one you use to your benefit always and the one that makes me lose all respect for me but it is what it is. But you really need to set me free.

I want to fly. There's so much I still need to see. So many words and thoughts that you just have been cluttering up. I'm yours. I always will be yours in a way I will never be anyone else's for I won't even try. So once you know this, you can loosen that grip darling. Let me live up to my potential atleast. You may go down in my stories as a lot of things, a bitter disappointment might even be one of them but you can't be the reason that I was destroyed. So here's your little girl, asking you to please just fade away. Into the unknown. I can't be your hostage any longer. I need to break out of this prison that you've built for me.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

The Best Teachers.

Back where I'm from, today is when you celebrate teachers. What they mean to you, how their contribution to your personality has shaped the very essence of your being. So I shall take a moment here to step back and do just that.

Let's start with my personal top of the line, Life.
You're such a tiny speck on this planet and life never stops to astound you and reaffirm this very fact. The absolution and uncertainty that defines it is representative enough of it's toll on each one of us. You don't get to argue with this one, just accept whatever it throws your way and try and make the best of it. Someone (undoubtedly great) said, life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans. But I guess that's the crux of it all. There's a lesson here somewhere, I just don't think I'm evolved enough yet to comprehend it.
A close second, Time.
The healer, the bruiser, the ever changing. This one reiterates over and over again the one and only constant in this universe - change. It doesn't stop, not even when you beg and plead for a moment is just too perfect for you to want to let it pass; it doesn't hurry by faster when all you need is a fast forward button through your shitty days. The pace never changes and yet everything else does. People leave, tragedies strike, there's heartache and heartbreak. There's also that one perfect sunrise or sunset you watch with a friend, that inexplicable moment of bliss when you fall in love and victories which leave imprinted smiles. All the while, the silent reminder, this too shall pass. No matter how good, bad or ugly, it's not permanent. Time will ensure that.

The third, Murphy, with whom I share a love-hate relationship.
He loves me, and pretty much plays the role of a stalker in my already drama filled life. I hate him and try to avoid his existence altogether. But like an excellent lover, he patiently waits, and never let's go. If something can go wrong, he ensures it does. If many things can go wrong, he makes sure they ALL go wrong at the same time. His laws cannot be ignored as much as we'd like to. And knowing them merely draws more attention to said person who possess this knowledge (or so I feel). You could call him a sadist or a clown, it's your pick but there is an amusement of some sort in the way he pans out his acts. At the end of it, when he's totally brought you down and pushed you to the wall, you can't help but smile at the elegant execution of his plans. They inevitably make a fool out of you but well, what kind of a practical prankster would he be if he didn't do exactly that.

Fourth, the inevitable one, Death. They say it takes one loss to completely change you from what you were to what you will be. Whether you totally crash down and never stand up again or move on to be a stronger, better person is again an individual choice or more accurately, reaction. But this full stop to someone's life is the biggest halt which provokes the biggest fear in all of our hearts. The irreversible clause that accompanies death is what this fear feeds on - the basic fact that you'll never see or hold or hear or even be able look at the deceased again - no matter how strong the urge or how immense the need. It's over. And just like that you have to come to terms with that hollow that the said person's absence will leave in your life. Cherish what you shared together, no matter how brief and then accept that nothing, absolutely nothing will breathe someone back to life. What greater lesson can there be to learn really ?

The fifth, and many might not acknowledge it, Love.
This is what makes the harshest of people melt down, the most mysterious of them come clean, and the most promiscuous ones become absolutely loyal. Love actually has the power to change. It also has the power to heal and nurse all past wounds. It may not be what makes the world go around, but it surely is what puts a smile on the face of most of the riders. Whether you experienced is once or countless times is immaterial, as long has your heat beat faster for someone and you were ready to give up the world for them to run off into a twinkly sunset, it was worth it. Love is always worth it, contrary to what everyone says. That one moment of bliss, can get you through a whole load of crap to follow after. Call me a fool but I am the romantic who strongly believes that it's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. It's a rush.. A must on your check list of things to do. No drug can match the high that love brings and as all drugs, the withdrawal symptoms can be horrific to say the least.

The sixth and all these go hand in hand, Hope, Faith and Belief.
When all is lost, that's all you have left. And as long as you have hope, all can never be lost on you. Things do turn around, the sun does shine from beneath all the clouds and you do find it in you to dust yourself off and gleam again for the world to see. It's easy to be yourself when all is hunky dory but to not lose sight of the person that you are in face of adversities is the true test of a man. I once read somewhere that courage is not the strength to go on, it is to go on when you have no strength - and the only way to do this is to have faith, keep the hope alive and always, always believe in yourself, your inner strength to overcome anything and everything.

The seventh, and a personal favourite, Music. I've always said - words hurt, music heals. And music is a soul's best friend for it needs no language. It's rhythm is enough to let you ship's sail float high in all unpredictable tides of the sea. The symphonies can drown out your sorrows, escalate your miseries, or take you any which way you want. There's a song for every mood, and another for every situation. If you find that, then the journey will never be boring again and you'll discover the one teacher that doesn't leave a bitter after taste once they're done teaching you a lesson. This one actually leaves you with a melody, a beat or a symphony to keep you company when you're alone or blue. It can be your best friend in a crowd and a soul-keeper in solitude. Never let it's magic stop surprising you.. It's the one thing that makes our life truly magical.

And as always, the eighth, the most special and the most important, The Family.
Father: The one person who actually has the capacity and ability to see through all your facade and determine your actual potential. The one hand which strikes only to get you back on tack; the one voice that is raised only when you've become too deaf by your surroundings to actually listen to what needs to be heard. He maybe strict but it's needed. He maybe many things for many people but for me my father symbolizes a safety net - my permanent 911. The one person who'd not just fight but destroy the very crux of my unhappiness.
Mother: She's truly the better half of a married couple. The lap you can sleep in, the shoulder you can cry on and the one friend you can always trust. She has the heart of gold and is patient, kind and generous (well, atleast mine has been an embodiment of all of the above). She loses her cool rarely and stands by you, even against her husband at times to get you way more free passes than you deserve. She's the one to send you extra pocket money when your allowance runs out, the one to make your favourite meals even in her most tired state and the one to always cover up for you.
The Family, is what teaches you the most. Because at the end, this is what lays the foundation and determines till the very end, the person that you are. The principles that you have (if any), the morals that are inculcated (if any) come from this constant pillar of strength. Because even when all else fails, family is what always remains. Blood truly runs deeper and thicker than anything and everything. I am glad it's their blood that runs in my veins. I would have it no other way. This bond, unshakable, unbreakable and the only one which actually keeps it word and sticks forever.

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Thank you for the Sunshine.

Can you be in love with the thought of someone?

They exchanged pins for it seemed like the appropriate thing to do, as they met as bare acquaintances through a mutual friend. The friend in question wasn't even around and so the conversation was awkward and a little too scanty. A few customary conversation starters down the afternoon and they both were hunting for the nearest exit out. They had places to go to, people to see.

It was the Fourteenth of April in the year that changed everything, forever.

They shared a few common interests which would spring up conversation off and on but there came a day when that ceased. They both had their reasons. Many months later she wrote, Hello Darkness my old friend and something seemed to pull me in. No questions asked, no barricades erected. It was simple henceforth really. And when something comes so easy, it's nature's way of showing you something that you didn't think existed - that open window after the door has been shut in your face.

There were high tides and low. Mostly low, but that's the funny thing about tides - the lower ones seem to bind you eternally and stronger than the counterpart ever would. There were smiles too between music exchanges and all night long conversations and those futile attempts to try and wake up to study. And an honesty that struck the chord of friendship. Trips were planned, groups were made but those are materialistic things that sooner or later fall apart. The thoughts that one shares, never do. I'm glad I could share them with you.

Every destination we reach is special but sometimes it's just about the journey. And you've left your imprint on my sands through our journey together. For when there were winds threatening to escalate into a much stronger storm, you just held on tighter. The feet didn't run and flee, but sunk in deeper. And I held on to them for dear life.

Sometimes all you need is a teeny tiny silver lining behind that long mast and shadow of grey. You were exactly that - ray of hope, a tinge of sunshine. I may love the rain but opening my eyes to your warmth was an enigma in itself. Unexpected and yet so radiant.

Can you be in love with the mere thought of someone? If yes, I love you.

Monday, August 27, 2012

Let me weep tonight.

In the cold shudders of the ocean, let my ship sink down further below than the infamous Titanic. Let me weep the father I never ceased to disappoint, the sister I never had for my own, and the lover that I lost in the tides of time. Let me just turn off these lights and sit quietly, for I can't exonerate my selfish deeds - not tonight. But they say redemption can be found, and where else to find it if not in the remains of my soul. I shoulder the blame alone but mistake it not for self pity or preservation.

Let me bid adieu and forever seal my fate in this extinguishable distance. Let this be the end, of whatever little I had promised. Pick out that flower, that letter, that pendant I kept as memoirs from a happier time, and then let it all go for it's time. For one last time, let me dream about that imaginary truck that was to magically take all this pain away.

Let me sail far away with the winds that reek of the storm soon to follow. I'm devoted to the sea. And I once read somewhere that the sea's only gifts are harsh blows. Let me blow away, for keeping the memory of us alive is painful, much too painful. Pain is all I ever brought to the table. Let me exterminate all of it.

Let me weep tonight for all my sins. For the blood on my hands and the lies. For the unintended neglect and the cold interior that somehow became the very core of who I am. But most of all, let me weep tonight for the mother I left back home. The mother I left behind in all of this.

I did love you with all my heart. I do love you with all of me. Funny thing, love.

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

"I'm going to break my own heart, so that you can't."

That's such a neat little concept. Rather than me standing by, waiting for you to turn around and maybe just look my way this once, I should just wrench my heart out myself and jump on it till whatever's left of it can be crushed to bits and then I don't have anything left inside of my chest, at all. Because that's what you do.

Hollow's got to be better than what you make me feel. Whatever happened to the friendship. Were we even friends, I wonder. I thought you were my best friend. But then I even thought I was impervious to hurt and other such nonsensical things such as heartbreak and jealousy and possessiveness. So I should take that bottle of acid and gulp it down so that all the burning can take place all at once. For you've burnt me and left my embers out in the rain to dissolve into nothing.

I'm going to erase how your lips felt on mine, how safe I felt while you drove like a wreck in that car of yours, how oblivious I was to the world for you'd built a new one which had just us in it. I'm going to stab myself rather than wait for you to use the knife you hold. I'm going to bleed myself dry until all your memories flow out and this fluid turns back to black from the red you'd painted it into.

It rains ever so often now. You'd asked me to never let it rain over you, long back. And then repeated it off and on. Funny how you became the sole reason for these unasked showers and this torn diary. It would be easier if my heart just stopped beating you know? Because this thumping in my insides seems pointless now. It's a constant reminder of a life I don't want to live without you in it.

But no. Chin up, head high and a smile - even if it's forced or plastered or fake. Even if I have to light twenty sticks a day to keep myself from breaking down, even if I have to tell myself repeatedly to never ever open myself up to someone again, even if I have to completely destroy all the dreams I dreamt, I will. For I'll be the reason for my misery now, not you. I will not let you destroy me. You're not the fire that will burn me out. I am the light that will shine on. I'm the way, the truth and the life.

The way which you never seek.
The truth you don't let yourself speak.
The life that you no longer lead.

Happy Fourteenth, you.

Saturday, August 4, 2012


The entire premise is wrong. Of taking that leap, of going head over heels, of making that darn exception. Because making that is no guarantee of you finding what you went looking for. Heck, you'll never get what you want anyway - that's just how twisted it all is. And if you feel in your gut that you've finally found the one person who'll shatter this belief, you're wrong. He'll just shatter you.

The idea of love is better than the real deal. How you see it is not how it ends. How it ends is completely in somebody else's hands altogether. Which is why it shouldn't even be expressed. You should just choke down those feelings when they first arise. When you feel that first nudge in your insides to go that extra mile, when you start feeling yourself dissolve for a united existence seems to hold more meaning - stop, step back. And then turn around and run. Run as fast as you can and never look back. You'll miss out on something, you convince yourself. But you're just saving yourself from a huge pool of hurt, pain and anguish; longing, misery and wait.

Listen to me. Trust me. I know for I've been swimming in this pool for long now. I think I'll drown in it too.

This pool was made of undying love once
and built for two.
But you walked away and left me alone;
*My exception*, didn't you?