2012, Good fucking Riddance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Excerpt:

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

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

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

If you like it enough and would like to read more or better yet, see this in print, please like it at:
http://www.indiblogger.in/getpublished/idea/303/

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/

After oh so many days and nights.

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

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

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

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

I love you.
I always did love you more.

Your brown eyed girl.

Ps. But if you love me...

Wreck of the day.

Letter to Self.

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

"If this is giving up, then I'm giving up,
On love."

Tuor's dream.

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

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

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

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

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.

RIP

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

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

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

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

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

I love you.

There.