Somehow.

Somehow, I wish I could find the words to tell you just how much you mean to me. Somehow I wish there was a way to erase my past so that it has no bearing on my future. Somehow I wish that you believe that you are all that I ever wish for, every night before I close my eyes and every morning that I wake up. Somehow I wish that there never is any distance between us because these miles stretch on like human forms between us, blocking and obstructing our path so much so that I can't see even your darkest shadows.

Somehow I want for life to be uncomplicated and painfree without me doubting my every move and weighing my every word as I make or utter it. Somehow I wish for my words to not even matter at all for my eyes should speak volumes as to what my heart feels for you. Somehow I want that molten-gooey-feeling inside of me everytime I hear your voice to become something tangible so that I have something to show for when you're in doubt about my intentions.

Somehow I wish that you're the only boy I ever met in my life so that it's the perfect lovestory - the disney kind - and I'm the princess who didn't have to kiss any frogs to find her prince for he rescued her from the drudgery of life when she was just a little girl. Somehow I wish for you to be my first hug, my first kiss, my first everything so that I can give you all of me with a passion that an oft broken heart isn't capable of.

Somehow I wish I could read minds so I knew what you were thinking every minute of every day and just how many times the thought of me crossed your preoccupied mind. Somehow I wish I could sit with you, days at an end, not needing to talk but having to - compulsively for I want you to know everything I'm capable of saying - all at once; so you know everything there is to know, all our cards are on the table and we can take it from there.

Somehow I need for you to need me like I need you. Constantly and forever. So that neither of us can every grow weary or tired of the other and we can live in our exclusive bubble for life not caring about the mortals on the outside for we have each other. Somehow I want for my wardrobe to be made of only your shirts so I can wear them to work as a constant symbol of being yours.

Somehow I want for you to talk Economics to me all day (for some one day) so that I can look at you all dopey-eyed and feel awed and unequal and unsmart as compared to you. Somehow I want to make up for that in ways only I can.

Somehow I want you to crave me like you crave ghar-ka-dal-chawal-and-bhindi after a fortnight abroad. (And devour me with the same fervour that would follow.) Somehow I want all my somehows to stop swimming in my head and just turn to reality like, now.

Somehow I want it all now.
And I want it all with you.
Though you, without anything else, would do too.

"We may not always be the best of lovers..."

Two years. That's how long it's taken. I don't know when last I felt this nostalgic and happy. Nostalgia has come to become synonymous with depression as we grew up. Reminiscence led to some deep regret echoing and reverberating repeatedly inside of our guts. Well atleast, mine.

It's been a long journey and at it's advent I somehow for once found myself wishing I reach the destination as soon as possible for I knew all along, this was excruciatingly painful to say the least. But now that I can look back at it like an ancient era, I am somewhat glad it happened like it did. Makes it that much more worthwhile.

Being someone's lover is a twisted concept to begin with. Because it's not a finite entity. It doesn't necessarily end. There's too little love in the universe for us to give it up as and when it's convenient. You don't get to decide the end on your emotions, no matter how hard you try. And you definitely don't define the end for love. Someone once told me, true love doesn't exist and if it does, it doesn't survive this cruel, cold world. But true love does survive.. Perhaps it's the only thing that does.

Love is a consuming affair but its only once you stop it from doing that, will you ever realize the beauty of this emotion. It's not always rainbows and unicorns. And yes, relationships do end. But love ? You never did love if you think it's ended with the change of seasons.

I don't think I ever stopped loving you. Even though I lost you, my love for you was never lost. The tangents changed, our paths stopped intersecting and we built new worlds for ourselves. That's the right thing to do anyway. I alienated myself from anything even remotely linked to you for really long. It used to hurt too much so I made myself believe that my world had no room for even your silhouette little knowing that our worlds became entwined forever the day you held my face and whispered those Knopfler lyrics ever so softly in my ears. Now that I understand this, I finally have some peace.

Our worlds are one. They always were. Till we have the same sun shining upon us, forcing us to step out of the darkness - they always will be.

My epiphany might be a little upside down but I know now what I should've known from the start. And in the possession of this revelation, I can smile and hum music which I had run from, for so bloody long.
I can embrace life again. I no longer need to outrun my reflection. I am you and you are me. Two poles of the same soul - never meant to be united; the indestructibles waiting to be destroyed at the hands of fate.
Would I still save "us" despite this insight ?
In a heartbeat.
Always.

'Aadhe adhoore khwab jo pure na ho sake..."

Shadows settle on the place you left.. Our minds are troubled by the emptiness..

I think there is a growing void inside of me. True that an idle mind is a devil's workshop. And the devil indeed occupies mine when I'm left to my thoughts and my own devices. There is a sorrow inside of me, ingrained so deep that it refuses to go away. At best I can shake it off.. For elongated periods at a time if I'm smart but sooner or later it does come back to haunt me. The worst bit is by now I know how it functions, this monster inside of me but I'm still a few steps away from destroying it. I let it rear its head in the hope that I will be able to fight it this time around, but it continues to get the better of me, The fact that anything he does anymore makes me feel like a passerby in his life, does not help. I'm not allowed to complain, I'm only supposed to adjust - even when it is the one thing which is proving impossible for me to do. I should compromise for the greater good. So I keep quiet about all the things that bother me, plaster a smile on my face and my feelings and drudge along.

Destroy the middle, it's a waste of time...

There's this hypothesis in Psychology - The Facial-Feedback Hypothesis. My life is kind of spent taking a cue from it. It states that facial movement can influence emotional experience. In simple words, if you're fucking sad but smile long enough, you will start feeling better. Neat little concept isn't it? Basically, you can fool your brain into feeling something it really isn't - Love, Hate or in my case, Happiness. This hypothesis has aided me in being a better person/friend.. I just keep telling myself that xyz situation isn't upsetting me.. That abc person's actions are not hurting me and eventually, I get over it. My brain begins to believe the bullshit I'm feeding it.

And if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones,
'Coz most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs..

The beauty of the situation is that I even stopped doing what I did best - write about my little land of misery aka the prison inside of my head. Too many known people started following me and then they started worrying. Even my fictional posts were analysed and overanalysed word for word. This used to be my space. Stalkers found it a nice way to find out about me which creeped me out even further. And so I started staying away. My space, my blog somehow wasn't my own anymore. It was broken by the piercing eyes and guarded my thoughts from ever being inked for the fear of explanation. Can't a girl just write to write ? Must there always be parallels and Q&As afterwards ? 

Setting fire to our insides for fun,
Collecting names of the lovers that went wrong
The lovers that went wrong...

So I started doing what I do best.. Looking back.. Going through my past.. Searching for answers.. And ofcourse I inevitably found you lurking right behind the shadows which I had somehow erased by discovering some dazzling lights.

And if you're still bleeding, you're the lucky ones,
'Coz of most of our feelings, they are dead and they are gone...

I still believe there are parts of me which are dead, which I have killed in the fear that if they are resurrected, they will still lead me to you. I have worked tirelessly to drive these emotions out of me. The unconditional love, the caring, the incessant need to reach out. I had to slap myself repeatedly to drill it into my brain that there was no room for any of them. Or you. 

Setting fire to our insides for fun,
Collecting pictures from the flood that wrecked our home..
It was a flood that wrecked this home..
And you caused it.

I find myself going back and forth to that one picture. I think that's the happiest I've ever seen you in front of a camera. I zoom in, I zoom out. I try to relate to the people in that picture. Relive their happiness since I can't find any in my life at the moment. But this happiness makes me even more depressed than before. This happiness just reminds me of how shortlived everything is.. How inevitable the end is.. And how very easy it is to lose everything in one goddamn moment. 

I've lost it all,  I'm just a silhouette
A lifeless face that you'll soon forget..

When I lost you, I lost an irreplaceable part of me too. For a long time afterwards I asked myself before I even allowed myself to feel anything. Feelings in general were too much to handle. And I've started running from them all over again as the shadows lurk above my happiness. I don't want to relive what I did two years back, I'm not strong enough anymore. I can't be another story in someone else's book. I wanted to be the last chapter, dammit. Right before the words 'happily ever after' were typed.

My eyes are damp from the words you left
Ringing in my head, when you broke my chest..
Ringing in my head, when you broke my chest.

It's not everyday that you meet your soulmate. It's not everyday that you both fall in love and he makes you the center of his universe. And it's not everyday that he walks away, without any reason, never to look back. When he breaks you in so many ways that you wish you had never met him and even as that thought forms you find yourself rejecting it for you know that the ocean of pain was worth the very sight of his smile, the touch of his embrace and the spark in his eyes which only you were meant to share.

And if you're in love, then you are the lucky one
Because most of us are bitter over someone...

No matter how dark the dungeons afterwards, love is still an emotion you must cherish. It vanishes by the time you realize how important it is. Time, circumstances, people are all too fickle to really know how to hold on to something. And sometimes you're too broken to fight anymore. You have no fight left in you. 

Setting fire to our insides for fun,
To distract our hearts from ever missing them..

And so I do this all day, everyday. Think about all the love that was given to me and how I threw it away. How I'm so close to throwing it away all over again. And just because I know how important it is, I continue to fool my heart and brain. I tell myself I am happy. That this is as happy as you can get in the real world. That this is love, whether I like it or not. That gibberish such as the future and planning take a front-row-seat in your movie called life. There is only room for romance in the intermission. Just FYI, there will be no intermissions. So let go of your "childish" and naive notions about love, or else forever suffer in silence. Teach your heart to be your servant, not your master. And above all, erase all thoughts about  the road not taken. 

Sigh. If only I were as smart as I pretend to be. If only this were as easy. If only I was a materialistic robot. If only I was impervious to my past. IF ONLY I WAS OBLIVIOUS TO LOVE. If only I was incapable of missing the darned emotion in my life.

But I'm forever missing him.

The End.

A lot of us think about death and dying. I am more morbid than most and think about my own end more than anything else in this world. Surprisingly though, there's no fear. It's sort of an anticipated occasion in my life. You could say I'm looking forward to it.

I actually fantasize about the moment when a truck will hit me and take me with it into oblivion. When my existence will cease. When I will be nothing more than a speck of dust.

I dream about my funeral and realize there won't be that many people present. I'm not very loved. What with my sarcasm and dry humour and exclusivity issues, I've never really let people in or managed to touch too many hearts.

I will not be mourned by many. Yeah ofcourse some people will feel a little bad but life in general will move on. I haven't made any real impact in the world. A failure in all but one field, I think the world could be a better place without another burden being added to it.

I've been repeatedly told what a waste of space I am. How so many things are wrong because of me. I don't think I'm strong enough to ever hang myself or even overdose on something. But I'd love to be shot in the back. When I'm at my happiest and least expecting it. I think that would be a tragically poetic and apt ending for my excuse of a life.

I have always thought that the easiest loss for this world will be me. As I grow up, I believe in it some more each day. Let's face it. A set of parents, a handful of relatives that actually care (I doubt the number exceeds five), a bestfriend, a boy here or there, an acquaintance I might have made an impact on and maybe a few friends. That doesn't really amount to much, does it ? Hey, I'm not complaining. I'm relieved that only a few people will be hurt. The fewer, the better.

I find myself praying to the lord above to end this misery for me. So what if I'm not strong enough anymore ? He kills a million plus people everyday. Here's a volunteer! Save another girl in my place - a girl who is yet to be born, a girl who is about to be raped who will then commit suicide. Or save a boy - a young boy who is to die on a motorbike. A father who fends for his entire family. See these are the people who want to live. I happen to have no such desire. The sooner this ends, the happier I'll be.

I even know what my epitaph will read. I've imagined what songs will play on my funeral. My friends know what they should eat and drink in my memory. I secretly know deep down that every boy I've ever grown to care about will also be better off without me. I ponder on the functioning of this world and how little its functioning depends on any of us - least of all me - and I feel a certain twisted sort of joy. Because it affirms my belief that my days are numbered. And I am striking off every single one.

I honestly think I'll go out with a smile on my face. And so I live my life, ever waiting for that truck to hit my face and vanquish the life within me.
So come on now. Put a smile on my face, won't you ?

The concept of Bestfriends & Farewells.

"All our life is a series of leaving and anybody who thinks otherwise has clearly not lived enough."

When I start quoting myself I know something has gone very wrong. Because I otherwise know that I'm no hot-shot writer. It's only when I go through something massively heart-wrenching that I find in me the words to express the one emotion that is constant to all of us - pain. And today is finally a moment of sadness which I felt was adequate enough to put in ink. For you see I've been told I'm whiney and depressive and so I have made a conscious effort to keep all 'pessimistic' thoughts to the confines of my brain lately. Not anymore, they need to reign free.

*

We as a generation have been raised to believe in the romanticism of every little thing. Everything is hyped and a grandeur so magnificent is created around it that we are forever in awe of this phenomenon called, life. Well let me break this bubble for you ladies and gentlemen - It is a lie. Everything that has anything to do with us achieving something, eventually ensures that we reach the top of the ladder, alone. There is no fairytale finish to this story called life. And all the advertisements and novels and movies that made you believe otherwise should be sued. 

Life is a complex process. We forever yearn for the one state of being which has either already passed or yet to come. I remember as a kid I'd keep asking my mother, "Mom, when will I grow up?" She'd look and me with all the kindness in the world and say, "Shh baby. You should never look forward to growing up." While I was fantasizing about my adulthood, she would reminisce her childhood. We both wanted something which we did not have. I do wish however I had listened to my mother.

As a kid all of us always believed that the people we were growing up with, would always be around. We imagined our life with all our friends, parents, relatives, grandparents, little knowing that half of them would not make it and the others we would just lose to the tides of time. 

*

Loss is a funny word. We always relate this word to someone passing away. How ironic though that most of the times we lose them bit by bit and before we know it they've slipped through completely. The loss that hurts me more than the inevitable one is when we are made to lose the people we love/loved.

The closest person I believe to be is somebody's bestfriend from school/childhood. This one person has seen you grow up and been there through the pimples and heartbreaks. And this is the one loss that hurts the most. I have had the pleasure of having a BFF for the past ten years (phew! a decade of putting up with me, she should be awarded a gold medal at the least) and I hope the day never comes when I lose her. Because that would be a loss that's irreparable.

But I find myself losing her everyday. We all lose bits of our friends which we never knew we would have to while growing up. We lose our friends for the first time when our schools shuffle sections and the person we sat next to and shared our favourite crayon with is thrown across corridors. Our every minute conversations are reduced to brunch time tete-a-tetes. Then we grow up some more and find ourselves making a completely new set of friends because we have lost the old ones to changing choices and interests. Then we grow up further more and choose different streams (Science vs Humanities) and find ourselves losing yet another string of these friends. We join tuitions and then quit them and our loss of friends keeps growing. 

Some friends however tend to stick despite all these years and we form a connection with them which is irreplaceable.  We talk to them for hours on the phone and even after spending an entire day together, as soon as they head home their landline rings with our call because there is still some one story we forgot to narrate. We make it work through adolescent years when we completely change as persons and start to feel safe because we feel the hard time has passed.

Then comes college. We shift cities. These friends whom we value more than family are now not a phone call or car-ride away. We need to account for time-difference, skype details, international flight costs and ISD calling. We try and keep up through the various social media platforms somehow hoping and praying to god that texts will make up for face to face conversations. We try and be there for them when they lose a pet. We get condolences over facebook. Proximity is reduced to a whatsapp screen and we somehow make do because we all know we will get that one vacation home and somehow make up for lost time then.

After dragging ourselves through college and making a friend or two (more than this is usually difficult because we are too set in our ways and too picky in our choice of friends) along the way, we find our ways home if we are lucky. However most of us plunge into work which again takes us to newer 'heights' leaving even lesser room for the people we imagined spending our lives with. And what comes next? Marriage. Where the boys' geographical placement decides our future life. We have been uprooted so oft by now that we give up on making close associations and compromise with colleagues. We look to our life partners, always searching in them a shadow of the friends we lost along the way.

We lose our friends to time, to interests, to college, to jobs, to boyfriends, to husbands, to every possible thing. We lose you when you make new friends. We lose you all over again when those friends turn out to be manipulative people who somehow drive a wedge between what we've shared for years. We lose you to marriage when we can't make it for your big day across cities or tight schedules. We lose you to your husband and his family when you become a daughter-in-law and wife. We lose you to your kid when you're a mother for now they occupy the center of your attention. This process of losing is so continuous that I find myself scared of losing you too. 

I'm scared of finding out someday through someone else about your engagement. I fear that your husband won't settle in the same city as mine and our conversations will be reduced to once-in-six-month-meetings. I am terrified that we will grow up and grow apart. And saying any sort of farewell to you only takes me that much closer to this ever growing gut wrenching feeling in all of my insides. 

How do I put it all in one letter? One blogpost? One anything? I have so much of you all around me. It breaks me to think you won't be two lanes away from me. My city = you. What will I ever do with myself with you gone? I used to think once we grew up and started earning, all we'd do would be chill together in the spare time. Now I laugh at how naive I was. I can see our lives going down separate paths and I can't take it! I want to turn back time. I want to discuss Jhalak perormances with you. I want to see Arjun Kapoor say "Whattahplaya!" next to you. I want to go for our pointless drives to Sirsi Road. I want to see someone get just as excited as me, if not more, when I say 'Momos'. I want so much and now that you've gone, I can't have any of it. All I can have is a memory that plays all our moments on repeat and makes me miss you even more.

Sigh.

If only I'd known this is what life has to offer, I wouldn't have rushed into growing up. I would've taken my time. Enjoyed some more biscuit-icecreams with you. Drank some more ThumbsUp from your daily 500mL bottle. Gate-crashed that wedding like we always talked about. I'm not done making memories with you. And I'm certainly not done with YOU. So no. I refuse to bid my bestfriend a farewell because I know that is the beginning of the end. I know now how you felt when I left but I also know that I'm not going to accept that you're gone until the day your 'doli' leaves gandhi path. I love you with everything I've got. You are a part of everything I am. Nothing and nobody and certainly no amount of distance will ever change that.

The future is ours. Just you wait and see.
We're going to be two 90 year old grannys together who drive each other mad, bitch about our kids and die of liver disease on the same effing day because I will never see the sun on a day when I know you don't exist. 

You're MY PERSON.
And in all the lanes I walk, I'll carry you with me in my heart. In all the words I write, your memories will echo. And in every smile that ever graces my face, you will be the person I think about. Thank you for a decade of insanity and love together. There's a lot more to come Rats. 

Oh and - The concept of Bestfriends and Farewells?
Once you've got a bestfriend (even half as awesome as mine) hold on to them and never let them go. That's the crux of it. No farewells. No goodbyes. Only hellos.

PS: Hey there delilah, you be good and don't you miss me.. Two more years and you'll be done with school.. And I'll be making history like I do.. You know it's all because of you..

Children of Broken Homes.

She shivered. A shudder ran down her spine and she softly murmured, "I don't want to talk to you." It was a huge task. The very sound of his voice was terrifying the insides of her soul. But she had been taught to stand up for herself now. She knew better. You had to speak against wrong, you had to stand up for what was right and most importantly you, and you alone could save yourself. Even if it was from your own father.

She wondered now when it was that all the laughter died and when the man who used to adore her changed so much. When he became a ghost of the loving human he used to be. What could have led to such cruel remarks, such harsh words. Maybe this is why she can never comprehend the point of marriage or children.

For she is the child of a broken home. And she isn't the only one.

She has seen men beating their wives and sons raising their hand on the father, torn between their two 'protectors' not knowing what to do, who to turn to. What does a child do when the people who are in-charge mess up? Whom do they turn to?

Theirs is not a country which does anything against domestic violence. Hers is not a city in which she can refer to an anger-management specialist. Ours is just a world in which you watch as the walls around you crumble, each day, at an alarmingly slow rate which ironically enough still feels too fast. 

In a home where she has had to be the adult for so long, she forgot what it meant to be taken care of. To have a stable pool of unconditional love. She never saw love, all she saw was hate. Hate between her parents, between her relatives, among her peers at school. All she ever did seek was love and that was the one thing that was denied.

She never complained for it seemed harsh. Nor did she hold it against them for she knew everyone was just battling their own demons. She thought she could be the reason behind everyone's smile. So she began to strive and continued till there was nothing left of her but a hollow in the place of a happy, little kid. No achievement was ever enough to mask the sorrow that engulfed her house. 

She would pray to god every night for her parents to stop fighting. She learnt early on that there were prices to pay because they did. They would fight over anything and everything and she would be torn between the two people she loved most. As she grew up, they found a new reason to fight over - her. This was the worst by far for it made her feel as if she had been the cause of their misery all along. She constantly felt like a failure. She wasn't good enough to make her parents happy. Or proud.

No matter what she excelled in, they would find faults in her behaviour, her conduct, whatever it took to unnerve her. She began to live in constant self-doubt and wondered if it would be better to relieve everyone of the pain that she was inflicting upon them and just end it once and for all.

However the end didn't go as planned and this too was used against her. Repeatedly she turned to someone, something to hold on to in a fragile world which kept crumbling around her. She kept trying to run away, from her past, her present... And lived in dread of the future. She changed homes, cities but she couldn't change herself. 

For she was the child of a broken home. And she wasn't the only one. 

She thought time and age would change things. That the two adults who had brought her into the world would finally start to comprehend what it actually means to be responsible for another human being. But she realized how they were too broken for her to mend. And everyday that she lived in self-blame, she broke herself too. 

For that's the thing with the children of broken homes - they feel inadequate and responsible for all that has gone wrong in their houses. 

She still smiles. She still loves. But she knows now that nothing will ever change. They will continue to love her in their twisted way and she will forever crave for the one person who is truly hers, never letting anyone getting close enough because she's scared. She's been scared since she was three. If Mom and Dad couldn't love each other, how will anybody ever love a disappointing person like her?

What parents never realize is how much every word of theirs pierces through the hearts of their children, how much it controls them and how very much it hurts them. It's ironic really that the creator is more often than not the destroyer.

She's given up now. On finding answers to all that needs answering. She waits for peace, hoping it'll find her someday. Because love is too much to ask for. She can make do with a little bit of peace for now. As for love? Maybe in another lifetime. 

Because she is the child of a broken home.
And that shall haunt her forever.
But she's not the only one.

Time for All work & No play, Mr. Modi.

So I have taken my time to comment on the recent elections (Facebook and Twitter posts not included, for they were a biased burst of emotion) and today is the day when I finally sit down to type in my thoughts and clarify a few things once and for all.

May 16th 2014, is a day that will go down in history not only as the best day Bhartiya Janta Party (BJP) ever had, but also as a day which was much needed by a continuously coalition driven India. This is the first government after Rajiv Gandhi's government in 1984 which has a clear majority in the parliament. It has been a one man propaganda, a one man army and a one man election - the one man obviously being Mr. Narendra Modi. 

I would like to begin with congratulating you Sir. You and I may not see eye to eye on a lot of things but your rise to power is commendable and it is a story which will inspire a lot of youngsters to work on their dream and then actually live it. I respect the mandate and I have always been a believer of the famous saying (forgive me for paraphrasing) that, "The people of a nation deserve the leader they elect."

India was brewing with frustration and as a part of the youth of India, I could see a lot of anger seething against the current state of being that was, UPA-2. They made some serious blunders which resulted in an overall stunted economic growth. The poor got poorer, the rich didn't get rich enough and the middle class started to fight a losing battle in the middle. A never-before seen price hike resulted in a dearth of money in households which had always afforded a comfortably stylish lifestyle. So a change was expected, a change was necessary, a change was needed.

Mr. Narendra Modi has basked in the failures of UPA-2 and become the face of this change. Though I have never agreed with your line of politics Mr. Modi, and have been very outspoken about the same, since this is the change that my country's mandate voted for, I respect it and wait for it to take shape in the form of better governance.

Yes Mr. Modi has given us a lot of impressive lines, catchy phrases and helped us in seeing a lot of dreams. 'Achche din aane waale hai' has been so oft repeated that it seems to have replaced our existing National Anthem now. Pun intended. However now the time has come for him to actualize these dreams and make all his election-time-propaganda a reality. It's time for us to find out whether this was all a publicity gimmick or is India really headed for development like never before.

My only qualm with staunch-Modi supporters remains that they continue to hype Mr. Modi's actions and capabilities. Sure, he has it in him to be a great Prime Minister. But shouldn't we atleast wait a minimal six months to find out? We can neither declare him a failure nor success based on the number of tissues used by Indians all over the country during his speech.

Also, what critics of Mr. Modi need to realize is that he has won with a thumping majority, whether you like it or not. Spreading venom against him is not really going to do anyone any good at the moment. Give him a year before commenting on his policies and overall presence in the PMO.

Frankly, I am neither impressed nor disheartened by the Cabinet he has selected. Because the true test of a cabinet is not in it's potential to do well - it is in what it actually does. I don't want to go gaga over the 25% women representation or frown my brows over the lowest ever Muslim representation. It is way too early to preempt how good or bad a Minister will prove to be. Attacking the qualifications of cabinet members is stooping down to a level of politics Congress doesn't really identify with so I would suggest that they refrain from it. What Congress actually needs to do is introspect and find out how it has failed its people and lost their trust. Then it needs to work towards rebuilding it if it ever hopes to come back to power. (But more on this later).

I am not even going to criticize Mr. Modi yet for the few 20-and-30-odd-somethings in Goa and Bangalore being considered for arrest due to their anti-Modi posts for I doubt he has directly given these orders. Nor am I going to voice how very erroneous is the thought of removing Article 370. All I'm going to say for now is, All the Best Sir. The future of our country is in your hands, almost entirely.

You have won in a country where clear majority had become a thing of the past. People have shown their complete and utter faith in you for you to have emerged as 'The Chosen One'. Now you can't make excuses on account of a coalition or blame others for your faults. This is what you asked of India and it has been given to you. The ball is truly and totally in your court now. Hit it as hard and far as possible because the country is watching. And if there is anything we have learnt from this election it is this that this country is not willing to forgive corruption, inflation and incumbency anymore.

We as a country are used to being disappointed by our leaders. They make promises they never intend to keep and break our hearts. Then in response, we break their government and elect someone else hoping for things to take a U-turn. This vicious cycle has gone on too long Mr. Modi. It's time we break it. Give us what you promised and we will give you an even better mandate next time. Prove your critics wrong. Show them you have reformed and that you will indeed be the force behind a Superpower India.

See you in 2019.
Till then this is an eternally watchful citizen of your country promising you that your proverbial report card will be filled everyday and any inadequacies will be dealt with just as harshly as they were in the case of your predecessors. 

My opinion or yours. It does count.

Someone said to me today, 'Your opinion doesn't matter.' I've got to admit I wanted to punch him. My instant reaction was wtf. I mean who the hell are you to decide whether or not it does or does not ? My consolation was supposed to be that the said person didn't think his opinion mattered either.
To battle this psychology, we need to go really deep. Right down to the point where we feel that our actions, thoughts and voices are inconsequential. What leads to this ? If I were a Freudian fan I'd find a way to link this to some sort of suppressed sexual desires. An Adlerian supporter may feel that one is inferior to others and hence doesn't count. Or I may attribute it to a faulty upbringing in general. For what else can be responsible for such misplaced and incorrigible views ?

The answer is simple. Cognitive malfunction. We all tend to form wrong schemas in our head (thought process - schema) and when these incorrect thoughts receive some sort of reinforcement from the environment, namely the enormous world we live in, they become more and more permanent and rigid.
So it is very easy to feel like someone unimportant is this big, wide, vast world. But it is even more important in such a diverse world to acknowledge the uniqueness and individuality of each idea, thought or desire.

Every opinion matters. Just like every vote counts.
Yes the party we voted for may lose but does that undermine the fact that we actually took part in the decision making process of our country ? Speak out against bullying and ragging. Yes our efforts may seem futile but who knows of the one life we may unknowingly save during the same. Scream and fight against sexual abuse and discrimination. Don't submit. Your screams may be heard, there is always someone out there who might just save you. Stand against corruption. Be defiant to personal profits on the cost of national harm. Charity begins at home and it all starts with one correct thought.
This though will translate into an opinion which will later form your action. You're not forming this opinion for anyone but yourself so how date anyone challenge it's importance. Your action will hopefully help change the world.

People who spoke of the ripple effect must have gotten something right because it makes a lot of sense to me.

It took one sister of Jessica Lal to fight for justice and then the world supported her voice.
It took just one Nirbhaya to make the youth so outraged against rape and come out in outstanding numbers to support her cause.
I can cite countless such examples where a nobody spoke up and made all the difference.

I don't wish for everyone's opinions to collide with mine. Heck, take a complete 180 degree turn. But voice it out, always knowing that it does make a difference. It always has and it always will.
Till the time we live in a democracy at least.

After that ? Who knows. I might be executed for my extremist views. Until then I will speak out and speak loud. For I know someone, somewhere is listening. And for that someone I matter. I may not amount to much in my lifespan but if I can just matter to that one person, I'll have known that I was right. I was right all along. 

Open Letter to Every Medicine Graduate

Hello Doctors!

So little is said or written about you. They ask why should we respect you ? What have you done differently than the million others who have also dreamed a dream, worked toward it and made considerable progress in said direction by studying what was to be studied.
But here's the little difference.

When we were busy enjoying after our tenth boards, my friends who aspired to be doctors, started giving entrances for coaching classes which would train them to crack PMT. They paid a hefty fee once they got through and while we were still deliberating the pros and cons of humanities and commerce, they started balancing schoolwork and tuition torture. I call the latter a torture for it was no mean deal to attend 6 hours of school, then 4 hours of coaching and then spend endless hours revising the coursework of both. They kept up with countless tests and exams at both fronts.

When we were rebelling against our parents and discovering the art of 'partying out late', they were developing the skill of 'surviving with minimal sleep'.

They skipped parties, birthdays, made no fuss about new year and went through their last years of school life with nothing to show for except a tiring routine of shuttling between school, tuition and home, all the time surrounded by papers, notes and mnemonics.

The ordeal did not end for them after the 12th boards either. That's when the real test began - medical entrances. When we went for long vacations with family or friends, they slogged still for prelims, mains and a variety of state entrances. There were crash courses to attend, revisions to do and examinations to crack.

For those lucky few who cleared in their first attempt came the first breath of relief. For those who didn't, came tears, disappointment and a grit to do better. They decided to drop year after year until they made it through or had no chances left.

We embarked upon colleges together. And while we discovered freedom, they discovered libraries. They learnt how to dissect a human body, how to saw the human skull, how to identify one microbe from the other. While we were making boyfriends and having our first kisses, they were having their first visits to the hospital.

Alliances were formed in both worlds. One for hanging out and chilling, other for studying and excelling. When the pressure got too much, the med students decided to blow off some steam by a drink or two or ten (for well, they always did have the capacity for a little extra, a little more - be it work or play).

As we entered our final year of independence, they were still just halfway through grad school. They hadn't lost sight of their aim. When we got our degrees, they continued to work alongside senior doctors, learning how to cure patients. Their day became 72 hour long for that's how long an average intern went without sleep in one stretch of duty. They got little to no sleep using the spare minutes to read a little more, grasp something they hadn't before. And finally when we took an year off, to 'think about our future' they entered their last phase of the 5-and-a-half-year-long-drill.

And, when some of us started working for our fathers, others for some little pay job, they got their license to kill.

So why do we not write about them ? Why don't we award them medals like soldiers who fight wars for us ? They are no less. They are fighters. Survivors. Warriors.

We're still clueless, we're still lost. We still don't know where our life is headed. They on the other hand, are saving lives. So next time you come across a doctor and feel life is unfair because his paycheck is infinitely more than yours, know that his education did not halt after those 5 odd years. The doctor continued to specialise, and super specialise - all so that he could be an expert in the field of treatment. He is a walking, talking superman. She is a fairy godmother, an angel. They work for us, all day, everyday. 24/7, no excuses.

For all your dedication and diligence, I thank you doctors. I can place my life in your hands, knowing you've done your homework and done it well. You will do all it takes to make me better.

You're my god. The one I can see, feel and touch. The god who I go to when I want a miracle. The god I pray to when a loved one has no hope left. You're my god on earth, doc. Thank you.

PS: Dedicated to Dr. Abhinav Ratogi and Dr. Shail Jalan - doctors who taught me the difference between passion and indifference.

Because I really want to cry, and I can't.

I hate it when all your life you're led to believe in something which is actually not true. Goodness doesn't necessarily guarantee it in return. Fairytales don't come true. There seems to be no such thing as karma. I hate it when you really want a smoke but the pack has run out of lights. I hate it when you're trying to finish some important work and your kid chooses that moment to start crying. I hate it when no matter how many songs you listen to, you only relate them with one person. I hate how once something is broken, it can never be whole again. 

I hate so much around me, don't you ?

I hate how we've become robotic. I hate how a grand romantic gesture by a man is precisely that but by a girl is termed desperate. I hate how dowry has become even more prevalent than before. I hate how there is not one political leader worth voting for and believing in. I hate how much love hurts. I hate you have to keep your emotions bottled up for the fear of them being discarded in vain. 

I hate how practical I've become. I hate how I stop myself from dialing certain numbers no matter how bad I want to speak my mind to said person. I hate how manipulative I've become. I hate how I can see through people's lies and motives now because that leaves no room for that little hope of good in them. I hate how I don't cry anymore. I hate how all my tears have dried up over him.

I hate how my driving force in its most innate form is hate itself. I hate how twenty four hours are never enough for all that I want to do and see but somehow I always seem to be oversleeping and wasting precious minutes in doing things which are inconsequential. I hate how I can't see you but she can. I hate how one drink is never enough, and two always too much.

So much hate and in the stillness of the night I can feel just thing flow through my veins.. 

My love for you.

Pay me some attention.

Dear Reader,

What is it with us ? The first hint of a pain and we cower and run away. Weren't we built to be resilient ? To fight ? For what is right. For what is ours. We give up too easy, yes, if I had to sum up all of mankind's problems in one sentence that would be it.
"Nobody's perfect, and everyone is to blame."

When did we stop striving for perfection ? What was the day that the word content was introduced to the human dictionary ? And when was it that it started being propagated to be happy with the little, the few, the minuscule excuse for happiness ?

Because it was that day that the downfall of evolution began. The day we stopped standing up for, believing in and fighting for what we want. Really want. Not what we settle for.
If we shoot for the stars, we should settle for nothing lesser. If you feel you're destined to become something, nothing else should cut it ever. A compromise is just that. You telling yourself since what you actually want is unattainable, it's time to settle for something lesser.

Don't just accept a husband because some lover once broke your heart. Don't accept a job because you were sexually harassed at your previous one. Don't marry into a family which demands dowry because you fear the next offer won't come.

Break free of your inhibitions. Motivate the child within you who thought they could achieve anything - the child who taught you to dream. Don't let the adult in you kill your aspirations. There is no such thing as a reality check. The only difference between your dreams and reality is the line you draw for yourself. The boundaries you cage yourself in.
Whose to say we're not all birds just waiting to discover our wings and fly ?

All you need is belief. A faith in the inner monster that exists in all of us, the one which is hungry for more, the one whose thirst for perfection is insatiable. Awaken that strive within. Without living up to our potentials, we're wasting our time anyway.
Let's be the best we can be.
Because anything less than extraordinary should just not be acceptable.

Regards,
A striving perfectionist.

Friends, Lovers or NOTHING.

Dearest Ex,
The journey's complete. It had been for a while now in reality but my subconscious cemented it today too. There'll never be an inbetween - that much was certain but unacceptable to me. However now in no state of mine is there any room for you in the capacity that there used to be. 

It took so long that it's almost unbelievable.. I don't even know how to react. I guess I've gotten used to your memory but I realized how that memory has gotten so faint over time and that voice has dissolved into nothing - so much so that it is now a mere amalgamation of so many others - an attempt to recreate something which I can't even remember. It used to be crystal clear in my head and now ? Nothing.

Last night I was with someone I love. He loves me back. We were driving all over town. I was being picked from some sort of station, I can't recall which. We bumped into each other in the train and somehow couldn't help but look. At what the past was like.. At how much we'd changed.. At the lack of electricity in the air despite us being in the same compartment. Or atleast that was my version of it. 

We got to where we wanted and you didn't have a ride back. My boy wasn't interested in doing you any favours and even though you and I hadn't so much as exchanged a word, I couldn't help but worry. The driver dragged me away but I made them come back. It had started to snow and rain all at once and everyone in the car was giving me hell but I came back for you. I saw you walking with some random chic, drenched to the bone and I got down and ran to you. I don't know what it was - impulse or instinct and before I knew it I'd taken my coat off and put it on your back and was leading you to a place with some sort of cover. 

You: "You came back ? I knew you would."
Me: "Yeah well now change. You'll catch a cold. I'll get you dropped."

Somehow the place changed into your hostel room and I needed a change for I was soaked as well and you were only too happy to oblige. Another room, another girl. I was so unaffected though. You kept trying to get to me and I kept being uninterested. I was watching our shadows from above and couldn't believe my disinterest. Sure I cared about you but that was like caring for a homeless person. All I wanted a roof over your head. 

You: "Why are you doing all this for me?"
Me: "Because I care."

See that's the problem with people like me. We care. About the most undeserving, insignificant people in the world. We can't watch suffering by the sidelines. We need to act.
When my boy came over to check on me, I hugged him, kissed him and you were left staring at the dust around us. You tried so hard all dream long to break us apart but I was so firm - it makes me gleam with pride in retrospect. When he left, I was on the phone with him. It irritated you enough to snatch it away and mock me and threaten me with unrealistic sermons. And still I beared with you. I put up with you to see you safe. I even called that slut from your past just to know there'd be someone to see you through the night.
Something in me still sinks. And I love you but that's love like I'd love a stray pup on the street. I don't want the pup dead but I can't bring it home either. I like to comfort him and give him the affection he so desperately craves but I can't get too close as he might bite. For he is stray. And I have a home to get to. A home he would infect and contaminate.
You're the stray in my story now. From superman to starlitlover to manslut to this. How far we've come. And how glad I am to be here.
I've finally stopped the train. I've come home again.

What makes us, 'Us' ?

There's nothing to it really.

A few exchanged glances, an innate read of the other's thoughts and an omnipresent desire to see a hint of that smile on your face. Yes, I think that smile is what brought us here.
Back when we just got to know each other for you see I take time to know people, really know them that is, I'd see the pain you'd shoulder and the brave front you'd put up for everyone around you as if impervious to emotions. Childhood problem, I'd think to myself. But as I grew to relate to the enigma that is you, I couldn't help but fall in love.

So complexly woven and yet so simple. I worry you couldn't hurt a fly if you wanted to. Unless well the fly did something to offend me. Then you'd chop its wings and torture it to its last, painful breath. For you see I bring out that in you. That severity of emotion which you'd detached yourself from - or perhaps never even had in you.

What makes us, 'Us' is the look we share over every insignificant detail - watching a show, a movie. When a song plays and it instantly reminds one of the other. When you get that glint in my eye when a cheapass B-grade hindi song plays. When you smile at the way my face lights up at the sheer mention of food. When I find you lost in thought and say, "What?" to bring you back to planet earth. When I think of you at the start of the day. And the end of the day - whether good or bad. When you absolutely must know what's happening in my life - the lack of which makes me hyperventilate and restless. That's what makes us, 'Us'.

But that's not all obviously. The lifelong understanding of the irrational puzzle that I am and the understanding of the steady yet distant tide you can be. The knowledge that no matter what - we'll always have each other. That together, we can fight all odds. That this connection probably dates back to a previous lifetime or era for we haven't possibly spent enough time together in this one to be what we are.

We are us because you make me who I am.
For that and much else, I love you.
Happy New Year.
All I wish for is that this year and the years to come keep us together for with you I can brave the coldest winter and without you even summer would turn gloomy and foggy.