How many goodbyes?

Always and Forever

How may goodbyes will it take?

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

How many goodbyes will it take?

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

How many goodbyes will it take?

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

How many goodbyes will it take?

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

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

Such a weird feeling.

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

This one's to you, Maa. 

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

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

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

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

Learning.

I learnt the art of pretense at a very early age. When everyone in class would narrate stories about their parents, or sketch a perfect family, I would pretend. I would pretend that theirs still fell short of the dream that was mine. Some dream it was indeed.

Over the years, I mastered the art of faking happiness until I didn't know my real laugh from the fake one - until a friend pointed it out and I couldn't even believe it. Until I learnt to believe that there was no such thing as happiness because no matter what I did, I would always come home to this - this mess of an affair.

I learnt how to stew - how to let the rage rise inside of me and boil over and destroy me. I would break apart and howl and scribble furiously until there was nothing left - no anger, no hate, no tears - nothing - just a tortured sleep.

I learnt how to hold back my emotions - most of all my tears. I learnt how to hurt myself just so nobody would get the satisfaction of getting there first. I would take the blade out and make a two-inch long scar every single time those tears threatened to spill over; then I would wash my oozing blood under a stream of water so it'd sting - sting enough to distract me from the pain inside of my chest.

I learnt how to run away. I knew how I couldn't stand another second in the same room as you so I ran - at the first opportunity I got and as far as I could possibly go. I thought I'd put enough distance between us to drown out your screams but destiny found a way to bite me in the ass and how.

I learnt how to hold back curses - how to not wish ill for the damned person that you are. I would come this close and tell myself I was better, that I wasn't going to be like you, that my love would run on love and not hatred and loathing.

But the lesson that took the longest and sucked the most ?
That no matter how much I learn, you'll still find new ways to break me and teach me some more - that I'll forever be learning... At your mercy.

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.

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.

http://weloveyoudoll.blogspot.com/

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.

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.

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.

The Soulmate, by default.

July 21st, 1992.

This is where it all actually began you know. They always say that someone somewhere is born because they're going to be important to you. And this date is proof that for once, they didn't lie. This is when the world ( or should I step back and thank mom? :P ) gave me you. My baby.

I don't know from where to begin because as always you've rendered me speechless ( you actually didn't have much to do with it, all I had to do was look at our picture for over a second and the effect was instantaneous ) and hunting for words. So I light myself a menthol ( the millionth similarity between us ) and try anyway for this date needs to be commemorated. It's about you.

You. Beautiful world isn't it?
I never realized quite how much until you happened. And how you happened I'll never fathom. From a drunken night among strangers to being your reflection, was it days or minutes or seconds in which we realized we were soulmates? In which you made me your baby and treated me like a princess gliding on molten air rather than the burning flames that my world was made of then; in which your arm around my waist didn't feel wrong and my feet on yours was your cue to make me your little girl for life. The only person I can take the 'little kid' from is you, the only person I run to is you and the only person whose stood by his promise to never let me see a world without him in it, is you. ( I just hope I'm not saying this too soon)

The ease and panache with which you unraveled me from my deeply entwined world and embedded into yours is remarkable really. I never had to pretend with you, you saw right through the moment you laid eyes on me. Your touch was never alien and there was a certain familiarity that came alongwith. The 'we-have-met-before' was a feeling I could just never shake. I guess in another universe, we had already spent a lifetime together so it was only natural that we kept up the tradition on this godforsaken planet as well.

You were never really a friend, or a rebound, or a boyfriend, or an ex - I still can't put a word to you actually. But you did that for me when you played me our first song - The Scientist. And that pretty much sums it up. You're that half of my existence that I ached for - the yes to all my nos and the wrong to all my rights. The love at first note ( Quote: You ). You've seen me at my erratic best and my emotional worst. You've stuck around despite the distance and scoffed at people when they said things about me which weren't true that you never even needed to ask for you just knew me, always. You've referred to me as 'our baby' to the one woman who matters most and kissed me on the forehead for her too. You've fought endless battles with the girl I'd kill for just to have exclusivity over our songs. And you've always believed in and accepted me, no questions asked, no eyebrows raised, no judgements passed.

So often I'm asked why you're still such an integral part of my life. I don't think the crowd gets it when I try and explain that I walked into your life by accident, but I stay in it on purpose. If that makes me a fool, glad to be so. Your fool. Because you've been the knight in shining armour for the damsel in distress both metaphorically and literally and I can never thank you enough. For what? For existing.

While leaving you once I'd said, 'I'm yours to bruise' and in all this time, I've never gone back on it - neither that nor anything else for words spoken to you were written not in ink but in blood and such words are never taken back. So for every bruise you give me, I smile.. for it's the mark of you on me and how can I even complain about that imprint? It's a reminder that you have a power over me like none other and I'm happy that you and you alone have it for you're the only one I'd trust with my soul, as tainted and twisted as it maybe. You're the only one with the power to protect it from this world, and to keep it safe and if that comes at the price of it being most vulnerable to you then that's a risk I'm willing to take. Never in my life did I feel as safe as I did in your arms or sleep half as well as I did while wrapped in you. I never had my heart beat in sync with someone else's and race just as fast or slow down completely. I never belonged.. Until you walked in and showed me exactly why my broken half had never fit with any other for it wasn't meant for mortals. This love, for no other. Now do you trust me when I say it ?

I can write endlessly and still not do you justice for I could never do us justice. I could try and tell you that I'll try my best to not let us lose each other in the sands of time. I'll try to prove to the world how very wrong they are about you and how I see you, and will always see the real you beneath all these layers. I'll even confess to always remaining Your Delilah, in heart and body and mind, despite and after everything. And I can promise you one thing for sure.. In a world gone silent, I'll be your sound..

I have always and will always fight the world for you, which sounds silly really since you don't even need me to - you're quite the bar-fighter yourself. Regardless of that, I'll never regret a moment that I stole from the world as long as I spent it with you; nor ties that I severed for this was meant to be. I don't mind having lost for I found you. It was destined you know.
Humein milna hi tha humdum, kisi raah bhi nikalte..

All the love in this universe falls short when it's paralleled with what I feel for you,
For I love you like I love the sea. And I'm okay with drowning.

Infinite kisses,
Your Soulmate.
For now and forever.

Ps: For you, a thousand times over.
Bareh tu, hazar dafa.

I'm on the inside with you.

Growing up, I've had a long list of friends. It's not necessarily a good thing, my father always reiterated but I never quite comprehended what that meant. He said a person with five good friends is the luckiest man alive. I'd scoff and say, bullshit, I have so many good friends, best friends even. He said I'd learn in time what the word actually meant and that I should get back to him when I did.

As the years passed and I lost one 'best friend' after the other, it started to sink in. The farce, the pretence, the duplicacy that exists all around us. Pressing into details and reasons is immaterial but I grew accustomed to feeling left out. I was the outsider. No, this is not about how solitude became my way of life; it isn't about how this made me a stronger person; it's not even about how hard and bitter it all got at a point.

This is about you.

For walking into my life, one teeny-tiny step at a time and never walking out. You, who took so long to confide in me but made it so easy for me to come to you. The one who made me her sister when I felt like everyone but me had one. The one who learnt lyrics of songs she hated just because I wanted someone to sing with. You, with the most perfect shoulder in this world, carved for my head alone. The one who believed my version of stories, not once, not twice, but every single time. You, who hated my enemies with a bigger passion than me. I came to you after my first date ever because I just had to have you meet the guy. I came to you a million times after when he and I fought and we sat by your steps, or in your garden. I came to you when I craved maggie or a ride on the Activa. You're my reason to believe. Did you know that? Everytime you get mad at me for trusting people and getting hurt in the process, you should know that you're the reason I ever give anyone a shot. You've seen me at my best and my worst and loved me and hated me but never left me. You force me to discard my favourite phrase 'People Always Leave'.

You became mine before I knew it. You made me feel wanted. Not a plan was ever made without you including me in it. I was so used to people snatching away friends from me and you gave me a whole new world of them who love me and care for me instead. You never hung out without asking me what I was doing first, never went out and not tell me the tiniest of details after, never made me feel like I was an extra. We were incharge of everyone's birthday parties, and surprises, and preparations. We were the ones who shopped till our feet bled, for something you needed for a brother or something I had to buy my mother. We were the ones who made the craziest of plans and then executed them with so much ease. Yes, I like making plans because somehow that still links me to you. We'd act on impulse and anyone with us would feel like such a retard for we had a million inside jokes and references that nobody else understood and we were proud to act totally insane just because we felt like it.

You took me in when I was so used to staying on the outside. You dedicated songs to me which meant the world. I wrote you letters on the last page of all my notebooks. You never got tired of all my whining and complaints. I gave you all your firsts - no matter how mad or crappy. You called me names and then hated yourself for it forever. I hurt you and never forgave myself for the same. In the whirlwind of everything that's been happening I forgot that I have YOU.
The one person who gave me faith. The one who never went back on a promise or take back what she once said, because you meant it. You meant it when you called me Delilah, you meant it when you said you'll never let me quit life again and you meant it when you said we'll grow old together. You're at the root of every successful relationship I have and the reason I make it through every failure I face. And you're mine - you should know that. Nothing, living or dead, will ever take that from me. You know why? Because you won't let it. You fight for me like nobody but my parents have; and you're in my world of four - forever.

Yeah, everybody here has got somebody to lean on.
You're my somebody.

-

This summer, to the four of you. 
You just be good and don't you miss me.
Fifteen more days and I'll be with you,
And we'll be making history,
Like we do..
You know it's all because of you.

My Hero.

Of Daddys & Little girls.


You've been my strength. You've been my pillar. You've been my all. 
But now that it's time to fly alone. My question is, will you still catch me if I fall?

There's something sacred about you, something that makes me worship you like I do. If I were to name the things that I thought I didn't like about you, I could fill a few pages, but the fact is, I grew up and realized that I love you just the same, if not more, because of these very things and traits.

I remember this day long back, when we had guests over at our house. I think I was barely three but this memory is crystal clear in my mind even today. I was never one for subdued behaviour and when the time to drop the guests, came, I was the first in line skipping and hopping to the gate happily. I remember the song I was bellowing at my highest pitch also. I remember you called out to me, to be careful but I threw all caution to the wind.

I remember reaching the gate, and the time being a little past midnight, it was pitch dark. As I approached the gate, they shone out to me. Those bright red eyes. And my last memory is screaming "Papa, SHERRR!" (Dad, LIONNN!) at the top of my lungs before hiding behind my eyes behind my hands and awaiting y fate.

I don't know how you did it but you covered that huge distance of almost a mile, in a matter of milliseconds or lesser. Because when I shuddered and fell, your arms caught me. You hugged me tight and then helped me open my eyes and see how it was just a wild tomcat and no lion at all. What's more, you helped me keep him as a pet till I didn't lose all fear of him and he learnt to respond to all my commands.

Things haven't changed much still. You've helped me battle all my fears, all these years and continue to do so. You try and warn me about people and things, but I never listen and you're always there to help me rectify my screw-ups. For this more than anything, I am grateful. Thank you for helping not just me, but my friends, and friends' of my friends when they needed you; for teaching me the difference between what is right and what is popular; for explaining to me the importance of knowledge and most of all for still standing by me when I didn't follow any of the aforementioned advice.


I don't know why I worried
About the times when I might fall,
Because you've been here all along, my safety net,
You're the reason I still stand tall.


I don't need a birthday to tell you what you mean to me, but I'll tell you anyway.
I love you Papa. You're my hero, for life. The one man I'll always compare guys to and the one because of whom they'll always fall short.
Happy Birthday. 

My roots - Part I

Eversince I was a kid, I liked to explore, and experience. I didn't like the walls people built around me or the million rules they made. So I trotted along, but every once in a while I ran off as soon as I saw the chance. That's why when that certain uncle I'd only met once or twice offered to drive me to see the biggest mythological villain according to our epics, the three-year-old me was only too glad to jump on his scooter and drive off into the dark night.

I always followed my desires, not giving a hoot to what it would do to the people I drove away from or left behind. And so we reached the big ass playground which I had left just an hour back. It was too crowded and Mom hadn't been feeling too well. You suspected a stampede at the least, judging the crowd's agitation level and numbers. You've always had an eye for the things to come Papa, but I so wanted to see evil burn to the ground with my own eyes.

As we reached, the man offered to buy me candy floss but all I wanted was to get in, ahead of everyone else. He held my hand and tried to guide me through the massive crowd. But he didn't know, I lead my own path. I don't hold on to hands for support too often and his fingers were strange and unknown. I left them somewhere along my journey and found myself in the middle of people too tall for me to look at and too strong for me to push.

The man started to panic and fret. My face was nowhere to be found and he had lost not just a kid, but somebody else's kid. While he roamed around screaming my name, I made way between people's legs to reach the very front of a much coveted line. I maintained my balance as I was pushed around. I didn't notice the mob getting out of control or when exactly all hell broke lose. The last thing I remember watching was the blinding blaze from the fire that was ablaze at last; the fire that I'd yearned for and managed to see.

In between the havoc and chaos at the playground, you were losing your cool back home, unaware of where I'd disappeared. Mom tried to calm you but she was worried too. Her creases eased somewhat and yours just deepened as you saw a scooter driving towards our house. He got off the scooter, perspiring and trying hard to form the words, "I.. I just took her to the playground.. She.. She left my hand.. The crowd.. There was a stampede.."
You didn't wait for him to complete the sentence, collared him and dragged him closer slapping his face, hard - this man who was your friend.

"How dare you take her out of my sight?", you said, as you hit him again. People tried to pull him away and he tried in vain to apologize. Nobody could hold you back and you struck again. You'd never let your little girl out by herself for this world was a big, bad place. You were livid at this man who'd managed to ruin all your efforts to keep her safe and protected by this one careless stunt of his.
"WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?", you bellowed into the silence of the night. Nobody has the answer. I'd left home, not to return.

*

But that's not how the night ended Papa. I'd listened to all those stories you read out to me and even though I didn't leave breadcrumbs to lead me back, I did count the turns and I did memorize the landmarks that would take me home always, a long time back, when you weren't looking. I came back, counting my steps and taking help from all the memories you and mom had helped me build around that neighbourhood. For when you weren't looking, I memorized the red light where you always switched off the ignition for it lasted too long, I learnt the roundabout where mom always forgot which turn was which, I remembered the lamppost under which I'd dropped my cap once, I knew the road on which mom taught me to ride my cycle and I certainly knew the lane which marked our house. Because you never taught me weakness. Losing sight, or calm, or faith was never an option. Fighting always was. So even though I left to discover the world, I came back Papa. All you had to do was wait.

And even though I've left home again, for a much longer duration this time and a much bigger discovery, I will come back. For that's where I belong. All you have to do is wait. Just wait for me.

Peace of Mind.

Her: Can I ask you a personal question?
Him: Yes.
Her: Is she the only girl you ever loved?
Him: Yes. Why the sudden suspicion?
Her: No suspicion, just asking..
Him: The one and only.
Her: How did you live away from her day after day, week after week, month after month then?
Him: When you get on your feet young and realize you have to make something of yourself, there is no other option.
Her: I still don't get it. How did you become strong enough to stay apart?
Him: Would you believe me if I said I did it *for* her?
Her: I would.
Him: I did.
Her: But you both grew so far apart, became strangers.
Him: Are you scared of standing on your feet or losing someone you love?
Her: A bit of both?
Him: Terrible answer. If you can't stand on your feet, it means you're meant to be a slave. And if you're afraid of losing someone, they're clearly not yours in the first place to lose.
Her: It's just.. Tough. So tough.
Him: I never raised you telling life would be easy. What's the fun in that?
Her: Only a sadist can find this fun.
Him: I'm not saying it's fun. But it's difficult for a reason. Haven't you figured that out yet?
Her: I have. I just don't like it.
Him: Then quit.
Her: I don't quit.
Him: The last time I checked you didn't cry either.
Her: I still don't.
Him: You want me to believe that?
Her: I'm trying..
Him: Trying what?
Her: I don't know! I don't know anymore what I want.
Him: How clouded is your judgement?
Her: I dunno. Love clouds it all up.
Him: No. Love clears it all up girl. If you don't know that by now, you don't know love.
Her: And you do?
Him: Oh yes. I met her and I knew. That's love. It may not work out at times. But it hits you like a bullet, the wound never heals and it only truly happens once. It'll only give you one thing: clarity. Did you ever get that?
Her: Actually..
Him: Don't tell me, as long as you know the answer to that, it's fine.
Her: I do.
Him: Anything else? I'm kinda busy.
Her: No.. Just, thank you.
Him: For what?
Her: For making me believe.
Him: I'll always believe in you.

*

Me: And I'll always believe in him.

Every moment.

"Somebody told me, this is the place where everything's better and everything's safe."

When we moved to Vaishali, I thought it was a sad, sad decision. It was so far from school, Dad had never liked the safety of the area and none of my friends lived there. I knew it was going to be a long, constant feud with my parents in case of parties and permissions and a lot of other stuff. But I loved the tiny flat somehow, so I didn't complain. Not much anyway. It all happened too fast and by the time I realized, it was actually happening, it was done, we had moved.

I still remember the first time I saw you, you were sitting alone by the window in that Red Roadways Bus. I had a friend or two in that bus already and they acquainted us over a few songs. You didn't speak much, you were the silent kinds but I talked enough for the both of us. Soon, our common love for music, food, shouting at the top of our lungs, standing by the door of the bus, made us friends. Just like that.

Your old friends, my old friends, all faded as slowly yet gradually we started growing closer. Thankfully for us, the annoying ones left the bus and soon it was just us two. Sometimes I'd drag Devanshi out of her bookworm shell and make her sit with us. In time, she learned to enjoy us more than her books as well. Our bond was unexplained and yet, rock solid. We'd argue with everyone but each other somehow, with you I never even have the 'Reddies are better' debate much :P

From early morning breakfast that I'd hand to you, to the after school ice-cream you'd save for me, there were certain unsaid traditions that formed on their own. I came back from class one day whining about no sisters since it was sisters' day the next day. The first thing I saw on you the next day, was a silly little card made out of maggie-masala packets, and a smile which said "you're my sister." And then on, we were sisters. Just like that.

Our traditions ran deep too. You always took the window seat, I took the aisle. When we were standing near the door I took this one corner and you took the other. When we threw chalks at people, I broke the pieces as you aimed and hit, almost never missing. I chose the lame ass songs and you sung them with me. Whether it was a bad morning at home or a terrible day at school, when we were together, it all melted down to nothing. I'd see your tears at times in the morning and rare as they were, you'd usually never tell me why they were rolling down those cheeks. My hand would find yours and in a while, you'd stop to sob. I was different that way. When I cried, I would rant and rant as to why, crying in your chest like a baby and you'd shush me and bitch about whoever it was that made me cry. Somewhere along the line, your shoulder became my favourite in the world, one where all my troubles would end.

When I am asked as to how we became friends by people, I tell them, we shared the same bus and they give me a zapped expression. Whenever I make new friends or meet new people, the first thing they find out about me is my best friend, Doll. I talk about you incessantly now that you're not around. About us, and all the crazy shit we did together (and boy! there's a lot!). My childhood is made of you, so is my adolescence. You stood up for me at a time when it was taboo to even look in my direction. To your seniors, our seniors, whoever the fuck. You made me a part of your group when I was walking around alone with nobody for company. You took my word on everything and supported my most irrational whims and adamant decisions. Everytime Garv was mean, (and that is a countless number), your house is where my steps led me, your digits the number I always dialled. It amazed everyone as to how even after a day spent with you, we still found it in us to talk for hours.

Your house became my home, your family, mine. You've given me so much that I don't think I can ever thank you enough. As for me? I've given you all your crazy memories, all your firsts. I would name them but the list's too long and they are etched in our mind too well anyway. You're still someone I don't mind getting yelled at for, and still my little sister whom nobody else can tell what to do, except me. I believe in your right to life, right to fuck up and fall and then the strength in you to stand up and hold your head high again. Through all of this, I will be there. Yeah doll, I will always be there.

Maybe just in words, for physical presence is an impossible as of now. I am reminded so horribly of last year when we were together, this time. But I promise you, there will come a time, when no matter where I am in the world, I will come to you, every second of december. Because even at your worst, you've been better than every douche, bitch and so-called best friend I've ever known. When we fought and spat venom at each other  you still walked with me and your house was still my comfort zone.

Why do all good things come to an end? I don't know baby.. You've asked me this repeatedly over the years but I can tell you this, there is no end to us. As I quote Kite Runner to you over and over again, I know not which I am, Amir or Hassan for my love for you is pure like the latter's but I am a selfish bitch like the former. I've hurt you when I promised I never would when you only made me love the decision my parents took so long back. You made Vaishali my home. The streets, the coffee shops, the ice-cream parlous, the theaters, every nook and corner of that locality, screams with so many memories and almost all of them, have us.

If I could, I'd write down every moment with you, because they're all so beautiful and cherished. If I could, I'd explain to you just how much I miss you and how my thoughts stay with you. If I could, I'd tell you I take you as my blood, I feel your pain and I would kill for you.

You're my little sister, my person. I love you.
You're there when nobody else is and I'm sorry for I expect a tad too much from you but then it's not my fault really, you've made me too used to the perfection of us.

So Priyamvada, that place where everything's better and everything's safe? It's with you. Anywhere in the world.

Happy Birthday Rats.
I promise you, an eternity of me. And you know I keep my words.

With more love than you can imagine,
Meow.

If I lose you.

The old gods or the new, I believe in none as such for they've given me no reason to. That's my defence, my shield. There's too much wrong in this world for there to be the existence of a higher power taking care or even looking over everyone and everything.

Yet, he gave me you.
If there is a god, sadistic as he maybe, he gave me many things. As I read through the pages of a brilliantly written book today, I try to feel what it must feel like to lose a loved one, to watch your father beheaded or your sisters raped or your lover slain with blood.

So till I have you, I thank not him, but the universe above for I can't bear to even imagine going through this degree of loss ever. But remember, I will be strong enough to avenge those who dare to do you wrong, strong enough to perform your rites myself and stronger still to follow you, to your very end.

When they write my epitaph, it may not read many things, but my love for you, it will always profess.

Seasons.

It's getting cold. In some parts of the world it's even snowing. At about this time now, I'd take out my muffler back home, for I have sensitive ears. It never did get to cover them though for my friend Priyamvada Rathore always shared it for some crap. I never complained. I still won't. One shawl, one jacket, one pair of gloves, whatever either of us had on us for an iota of warmth, was automatically the other's. No questions asked. If there was any resistance shown by the owner, it was snatched right away so the protests were meaningless and unnecessary really.

Rats. She wouldn't let anybody else call her that, ever. Just like I'd not be Meow for anyone else. And no matter how much anyone may ridicule us, this we both always will be. Because, it's simple really. Some people do break all the way through and then that stays. No matter what. The time taken varies but once your guard is off, it just is.

"And I miss you when you're not around."
With uncle Bono singing this in my ears, I can't help but miss him too. I actually try to not miss him you know, like I make that effort. But what did I just say about defenses? Once broken through, they can't really be set back up. And we somehow broke each-other's without even meaning to.

Been there, done that.
I've said that for a long time but he's changed that for me. It's more of a 'been there, done that, but not quite' now. And to all those people who told me he was just "a stoned motherfucking player" I would just say, hah. In your face. You can't judge something until you feel it. You can't disregard someone until you know them. And I know him, I always have known him.

So darling as it turns out, I wasn't just a season for him. Because it's getting chilly now. And he's still saying those three words to me like he first did. He meant them then and he means them now. But you'd have known that if you knew how much that one word means to some of us. We didn't just blurt it out. It was said and meant and felt in most sincerity and certainty.

I don't define things and people and situations. I don't even define love. I don't like putting tags. But all of this changed for him. He called me his soulmate, we called this perfect, and the tag boyfriend/girlfriend followed too. Oh and I call this love. Years down the line I will still call this love. Because if this isn't it, nothing ever will be.

Maa..

Those are usually the first words out of any toddler's mouth. Because since before our own existence, mothers nourish us and make us a part of them, literally so. It's not just the nine months (eight, my magical number in our case) that a kid spends in her mother's womb that make it the relation of a lifetime, though that pretty much should be it. No, it's much more. It's the decision by that one person before that pregnancy to make something, someone a part of her, someone she'll love and cherish like nothing else and someone she'd not only give her life for but take lives for as well. In that instant when she conceives her child is when she becomes a mother for it's selfless right then to want to go through that ordeal.

Then comes the struggle. The morning sickness, the cravings, the cramps, the misshaped body, the restrictions, the kicks, the what-nots. You bore that patiently for me. Ever since my first cell shaped to become a part of you and you took that two-pink-stripes-life-changing-test, you were relentless, untiring and careful beyond measure that no harm, ever, came my way. From perfectly timed and nutritious meals to giving up things you liked most, to reading and singing to me, you never took being a mother lightly. And for that, among other things I owe you baby.

Maa.. It's usually a kid's first word but as we both know it wasn't mine. I'm not a cliche, never have been so my first words were "kya hai?"
Yes, I was an inquisitive little pest from the very start. And you had the patience to answer each and every query that I had. You never lost your temper or got short at me. You taught me everything that books couldn't, and never imposed your choices on me. All you ever dreamt for me was that I be a "good, happy human". Yes, I remember every word you ever put down in that baby book mom for I saw the zeal and passion with which you'd preserved every tiny detail of my childhood which parents so casually ignore or don't bother about. Every picture that you and Dad clicked, every recording you made with me being the drama queen that I was and then watched for hours later. When you thought I wasn't looking, I noticed all the pains you took to do all that. I noticed how you put off things you both needed/wanted just to be able to give me the perfect childhood.

As I started to speak, you never dismissed me for the lack of time. Instead you quit on your entire world, and became mine instead. You listened to my annoyingly boring stories and encouraged me to tell more, so much more. Slowly I started to love details as much as you and looked forward to coming home to you to tell every second of my day. All the way home on that Hero Winner of yours, i chattered and chattered away. You took the detour to Masi's house one too many times just because I wanted to go, 'someplace else'.

You taught me how to play out of nothing and everything and then watched me, amused as I turned into a block-builder then a teacher then vegetable-vendor (remember the tarazu dad made for me to weigh veggies? Boy, you both really were perfectionists!) and even the owner of a cigarette shop (I turned cassettes into cigarette boxes). Yes, you never hindered my ways.. you let me and my imagination always run free (and pretty wild).

You were there at every poem recital, every play, every debate in town to cheer me on. You were there to wipe off my tears and bitch about the unfair judgement when I rarely lost a competition. You were there to kiss me on my forehead after every result and everything that I did win. The biggest compliment always came from you, in that smile, in that kiss, in those four words, "You were the best", you are still my best praise and only critic. If I manage to please you then the rest of the world pretty much ceases to matter but I won anyway, for you raised me to be a winner baby, you taught me to never be anything but the best.

This is not to thank you, no, that I couldn't do in a million years. This doesn't even come close to describing what we have (and what the world only looks at enviously). Those afternoons on your bed, those fifteen minutes in the kitchen which inevitably led to an amazing meal, that rush to watch a movie and as long as we're together, always making it on time, those long drives and dinner dates, those ice-cream treats, those shopping sprees, ah there's so much!

Maa.. You know why that was never my first word baby? Because you're so much more to me than just that. You're like an elder sister (quite frankly you look hot dude!), you're like an annoying sibling who fights for the loo (how many times have we raced and you thrown a tantrum on losing?), a younger brother who whines for attention when I'm busy on the phone (I can really multi-task!), an older brother when someone hurt me and you kicked their ass for it, a best-friend (and this needs no reason or explanation even).. You've been everything for me. The world has crashed around me, one too many times but with your help, I've found it in me to build it all over again. I've been the phoenix but trust me I would never rise from my ashes if you didn't put all these ashes back together for bits of me scatter and fly off with the winds but you pick each of them out and put me back together, always.

You marvel at how I love people so much mom? As to how I find it in me to give myself to my friends the way I do? How I love unconditionally and forever despite the hurt and pain it brings me? How I trust people easy and let them into my life and believe the best in them always? It's you mom, you. You've taught me how to love, to trust, to believe. And so I just do. I've been loved, trusted and believed in so much by you that it's not tough to share that with the few people I do share it with. You give me so much in just that one smile of yours, in those eyes.

And I never really wrote about you before this because I never wanted to not do justice to your name Maa. You may have never comprehended that but you don't even know what you are to me. You're it. I may cry for all the lost friends, boys, and random trash like that but at the end of the day as long as I have you standing by me, nothing else matters.

Happy Birthday Mom.
Across this distance, this my baby is my present to you.

I love you beyond measure (duh), and I miss your presence around me so much I can't tell you. Writing this has been one of the toughest things I've done for it's brought tears to my eyes at so many points. But I did not cry nor weep. For today is a happy day. It's your day. No room for even tears of happiness on this special day baby.

And always remember,
For you, a thousand times over. 

Coming back to life.

Even if I tried, I could not have asked for more.

I'm starting in order and thanking you all so that some day far, far away I remember exactly who made my eighth what it was.

Shail Jalan, for waking me up to a beautiful birthday eve and then making it into an even more beautiful day and an epic night. You're too many things to me, at too many different levels and I cannot sum us up ever. You're like a mother and a sister and a friend and so much all at once. It's insane. But you defined us once and for all last night. You're my Yang. And we are a closed circle baby. We are fucking tight. Always will be. I know I whine and crib about this place a bit. Okay, a lot. :P but I'll never really regret coming here, ever. It gave me you.. In a way nobody else will ever have you. And that's somehow compensation enough. Cheers baby!

Abhinav Rastogi, for taking me out to a balcony of condom shaped balloons and making me laugh like you always do. You're my friend. My best guyfriend. That will always stay true, no matter how much time goes by. You're my dancing partner, you're my chatterbox, you're my smoking buddy, you're my person I talk to once fuck shit drunk, you're just something else man. We're something else. The world, most of it, will never get it. But then again, when did we ever care about the world? Thank you, for last night. We just proved yet again that as long as we're together, no matter what fucked up place we're in, we'll set it on fire.

Dad, you were my first call. I wanted you to be. You're my hero, and I love you. That says it all really. Thank you for going out of your way always to put a smile on my face. 

Mom, you're the reason for my existence and the reason I go on. My strength, my life. Thank you for making me, ME. It's all you baby. 

Priyamvada Rathore, I love you more than words can say. Thanks for being my best friend, my sister, my Rats. For the little things you do which never go unnoticed; for all the songs; for all the memories; for being just what I always need you to be. I'll never let you down. Don't ever let me go.

Anirudh Tiwari, my boyfriend. From the poem, from being my first letter, to the amaaazing call, to every tiny thing you did yesterday love. For being my soulmate. For making me believe in love at the first note..

Baby,

I love you, I swear to you, it's true. 

Adhiraj Singh Rathore, for that insanely long skype conversation and just random things in general. You're right dude. There are no two people on this planet like us. Heh. Except maybe my boyfriend. But then, you're open to threesomes right? :P

To everyone who called me.. The family.. the friends.. 

Everyone who changed their statuses for me or put up pictures with me..

EVERYONE who mailed me..

Thank you for making my eighth, everything that is always was and always will be. For ensuring it continues to be my favourite date in the world. 

For all the names mentioned above, 

For you all, a thousand times over.   

Today's going to be another one of those insignificant banters where I just rant and rant because nothing in the world makes sense anymore and the only thing that does is me punching into this keyboard and hearing pounding music in my ears, music that sets me ablaze and make me want to burn out with it's thrashing. Today this is being done by Metallica and Alter Bridge. The more I read, the more I realize I don't have what it takes to write well enough. About love, life, friendship, anything. The words do come to me but not like they should.. not as well as they should. Bah, I will not go into self-pity as a writer!

I looked over an online site for Zippos and I have finally narrowed it down to three.. actually two. I finally am getting close to my dream of owning one but then again it'll be a long time before I actually get one. or maybe not. If things go as planned, I might just be in Manila for a bit in July. There's just a shred of hope, going as my finances are going but well if there's any hope at all, I need to cling to it with my dear life.

Things have kind of started to fall in place before bursting up in my face I think. Because when I finally start getting to my happy place, they do inevitably blow up in my face. Whatever. Ugh.

Punch punch punch some more keys till it starts to make sense. The purpose and the goal and the destination too. It will eventually clear out, this blur, and I will see right again. I need some perspective to dawn on me so I can decide what I want and need in life and the thin line of difference between the two.

And what I sincerely need to do is work out a way to make the people who love me, happy. I am letting everyone down, one by one and it's getting on my nerves now. I did not grow up to be a disappointment! I refuse to be one. Absolutely not. I need the remarks and judgements to stop so that I can show you what I'm made of, once and for all. I love you man.. I'm not saying it today because I don't have it in me, but you know it as well as I do, that I do. Believe in it, believe in me. Please. I need you to, now more than ever.

Note to self: Enter Sandman - truly beautiful.