Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Sunday, December 26, 2010
At first I wondered, how you will survive, friendless and alone? But I realise,
You aren't worth it. At all.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
when you go from school to college and then from the comfort of college to what they call the real world, you gain a maturity. . .a maturity that teaches you that every ever after may not be, that most rainbows fade. . . but no amount of maturity or strength is enoguh when you turn around to face an situation wherein you cannot call a friend a friend anymore.
How you ask, how is he blind enough to not see me for who I am, to hold a grudge that'll last a lifetime. Where is his love? Where did all this hatred come from?
There are times when we cut people's calls, erase them from our phone books, block them frm our facebook pages, cut up photographs, tear up letters ....all because we are aware of the pain every minute and attempt to subdue it in a moment to childish rage.
And then there are times, when you are so shocked, so very taken aback at the way things turned out, at how someone whose hand you held in times of despair (his and urs), took less than a minute to end what you built in what seemed like a lifetime, your soul becomes numb. . you dont cut him out of ur life publicly, coz it doesnt matter, the cord has already been cut, the ties severed.
Anything else is a formality.
I have written about him here a million times, my life wasn't my life without a mention of him, and now just because he feels rage, without as much as a thought to me, he has walked out. He, who needed my opinion in everything, from picking a shirt to getting a gift... accused me of giving wry judgement , watching from the sidelines.
I remember this one time, he cried, he was alone, there was nothing to talk about, I sang on the phone for an hour, all our favourite songs. . . . the tunes filling the unbearable silence that was in that moment. . . will anyone ever call him the name i called him? Who will walk with him? Who will insist he shave or get a haircut? Who will plead for him to cut down on smoking? Who will know him?
How I assume will he never think about me when he hears the songs?
But then, I realise he won't think of me, he didn't think to even ask me. He does not even owe me a moment. Only his anger.
And now, I shall move on.
Not willing to fight, or call names, or demand/offer a justification. . . because i realise, if i think of him now, I shall not recall how he took buses to meet me, was a part of my soul, understood that sometimes i Needed momos, hated people i hated, loved priya, how i unconditionally, unprotentiously loved him. . . . . . but I shall only be able to recall this moment,
where I feel broken and kicked. . .Where he chose to desert me.
And I am done, and in time I shall learn for it not to hurt, to stifle the urge to call and wish happy birthday or to ask if you had dinner.
We sang our last song. It was the last song of dusk.
P.S.Incidentally, unaware of fate's plans, a month ago i told him, if he'd ever forgot to call on my bday, I'd hate him and never talk to him..... well problem solved, "now u neednt call, now u neednt remember"
Friday, December 3, 2010
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Who have a house of their own,
Who can say that their feet
rest on what is theirs alone.
Who do not live on sufferance
in strangers' shells,
As I have done last few years,
and as I probably will.
A place on earth untenured,
solid, brick, grass, air:
To know that I'll never have to move
to review seasons from one lair.
When the night comes, to lie down in peace
and know that I may die as I have slept.
That things will not revert to a stranger's hand
That those I love, may keep what I have kept.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
I think : too much.
I know :all the 50 states in the USA.and can name them in under four minutes.
I want :to have four kids.
I have :an unwavering affection for Vikram Seth.
I wish : I was in love.
I hate : summers
I miss : priya, akhil, ankur.
I fear : pigeons
I hear : hindi film songs from the 90's in my head, particularly during exams.
I smell :coconut, on happy mornings.
I crave :hundreds of shoes, literally a hundred pairs. . . or a hundred books.....or both.
I search : for contentment.
I wonder : if I'm going anywhere
I regret : a long long list of decisions
I love :love
I ache : after finishing a particularly good novel. I miss it.
I am not :good at hiding emotions
I cry : in secret.in my bathroom. sometimes in public.
I believe :in God.
I dance : like there's no tmrw. In Tantra, Noida.
I sing :old hindi songs with feeling :)
I read :indian authors mostly.
I don't always :talk .... :)
I write : emotionally!
I win :in arguments with akhil/danish.
I lose :in arguments with Anuj!
I never :try anything "new"
I always : make lists in my head.
I confuse :people with my problems
I listen :intently.
I can usually be found : in the kitchen :)
I am scared :of a lot of things! too many really!
I am happy : and grateful.
I imagine : the world as a nice lovely place where I want to raise my kids.
And this joie de vivre is a joy of everything, a comprehensive joy. . . .life, i realised, is fun if you want it to be.
so this here is my new outlook.
p.s. - I head to Delhi in december. . . . to college, to ankur, to akhil :)
Monday, October 18, 2010
“The beauty of this world, if you gave it your heart, would break it.”
As for any explanation for my conspicuous absence, I have none. It was in June that I last wanted to write, or was it May? Well it was a long time ago. . . Did I tell you that I finished college? Or for that matter, that I found a job?
Yes, I work now, in Bangalore. I came here 4 months ago, and it is no coincidence that I haven’t written since.
College was months ago, surreal . . . it seems like ages ago. I live in Bangalore, Akhil in Hyderabad, Ankur in Kharagpur and Priya, in London. Yes, we live in different worlds now, and try our best to hold on to one another’s.
Priya left on September 28th, 2010. It’s hard to fathom that she lives in a separate continent now, that she eats Blueberry muffins for breakfast and lunch and dinner sometimes. . . I wonder if she misses me with every breath too. She does, I know.
Ankur lives, sometimes begrudgingly, in Kharagpur,West Bengal. He misses civilization, for the most part. And priya. Not in that order though.
Akhil, works in Hyderabad, lives there for the most part. The grown up that he is now, still calls every day, but has less to giggle about. I imagine the next time I meet him, there might be new found lines settled quietly in the creases of his face, lines that formed without me, ah when your best friend grows up without letting you know.
As for me, the job is . . . well a job, its taxing tiring and seems to have a life of its own, having spent the better part of four months giving exams and doubting myself, I am looking at life with a newer perspective, a new set of priorities.
Where I live is as close to home as it gets, sometimes I walk into my room and the joy that envelopes me seems like a joy I have missed since Priya left. Sometimes it is idle chatter, other times laughter . . . the happy laughter that belittles life’s troubles, makes the thread of worry run in the background instead, even if for a few wondrous moments.
Anuradha, Alora, Priyanka – the three stooges, well let us just say their warm laughter fills my days and makes life less lonesome.
Bangalore is beautiful, as are its people. Where Delhi was curious, inquisitive; B’lore is carefree, cool. Trees dot its streets too, much like Delhi; Life passes you by here, if don’t pay attention. But it will take your breath away, if you do.
These days I am waiting to find out if my job requires me to move, I shall be sorry if it does, sorry to be leaving this life I have formed.
And lest I forget, I should mention, Anuj is back :)
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
mom's warm hands
nani frowning on my demands for "kucch accha" for dinner
my sister bugging me
dad's crushing scented hugs
seeing friends everyday
the sense of being HOME
nani feeding me dahi-cheeni on important days
hogging the remote
exploiting my power as a big sister
i miss me!
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Sunday, July 4, 2010
I wish I could write. I wish I could put into words the turmoil that brews inside of me, the storm that seems to go on endlessly, and an ongoing wind that that the rains cannot subside.
The idea that I am at a place where I am indifferent to most things or am I?
Where I should be happy, I am sad. Sadness burns like an incense, leaves its smoke rings all around the crevices of my mind. Happiness on other hand is elusive, rare and invariably short lived.
How? How is that possible?
I live my life, day in and day out, but to what purpose? Where, I wonder, where is it that I want to get? What when I get there?
I constantly think about what I want. I make lists in my head, and then I tear them up.
What in my life will guarantee happiness? A job? Friends? Companionship? Love?
I don’t want to be sad, I certainly do not. But here I am, unable to help myself, unable to move.
No, I have never found
The place where I coud say
This is my proper ground
Here I shall stay....
Saturday, July 3, 2010
I do believe that, unwittingly, in this blog i created a precious account of all details that I cant even recall anymore.
In other news, I am back in Bangalore, hopefully it'll fill my heart and I'll be happier, but nothing replaces the delhi shaped void in my heart.....
Akhil is in Hyderabad, I miss him everyday. Why, i wonder, we talk every single day, recount to each other the mundane sillyness in either lives, and yet I sleep with an empty heart, feeling devoid of his presence.
I think of him when I cross the road, and absentmindedly hold my hand out, for him to hold it reassuringly.
"I love you without knowing, how, or when, or from where.I love you straightforwardly without complexities, or pride ; So I love you because I know no other way."
Monday, May 24, 2010
She had liked winters since she had been very young, the breeze began to pass her by, then she had wobbled down the street, for months people had told her she would have a boy, going by how large she had been, she had prayed she’d have twins even triplets, it was a little silly, and now she prayed for a healthy baby, she wanted a boy, D. had just wanted a child, no preferences he had said earlier, but she knew he wanted a son, too.
As she made her way through the people, some celebrating Christmas, some just wanting to get home, her mind reeled to back to her life years ago, memories she had locked up in a little box and pushed to a dusty corner of her mind. Maybe it was because she had just spotted someone in the crowd, or someone who reminded her of the person she had known once, loved once, left alone once and moved on. She thought of him every now and then, calculating frantically at first, what the time would be, in India, what he’d be doing then but that went away as she adapted to the new life, now she just thought of him at Christmas, it was his birthday. She thought back to how she had only awaited a phone call from him, and left when it hadn’t come, left him, left their life together, that was and that to come. She craned her neck to look better, could it be? What if it was? What then? What would she say? , How would she explain all this, how would she tell him that she still wondered whether he too, had moved on? Whether he too, had locked her up in his past and found love again, if he scolded this new person too the way he had always scolded her when she ate too many of those blueberries or had been out in the rain too long, or was his present companion smarter, smarter not to do those silly things, smarter not to desert him? She remembered now, vividly, how he had laughed when she told him she wanted four kids, and she knew how many boys and which school they’d go to, and what they’d grow up to be, he had been the only person she had said all that to, and he had been aware of what it meant to her. She had known him as she had known herself and yet she left, maybe he’d never know. She knew how red had been his favorite color, she had thought of him while slipping into every red outfit she owned, his image had flashed in her mind whenever she saw D. wear the green shirt she had loved so much on him, that D. had found in her old room and decided to keep. She still thought of his smell, of how he would probably have stopped going to the library since he never read himself but went there for her, just to meet her or when she dragged him to it. She still chuckled when she thought of his seriousness on petty issues, of her talking and his listening for hours at end, their music, his thoughts and her actions, all he believed in and all she did. Now her mind reeled to the present, where this man stood, dressed like him, with his back to her, resembled him, as she tried to look, something disturbed her, maybe it was the baby, maybe it kicked, but that was normal, but it seemed to be increasing now, more frequent now, D. was at her side almost immediately, and a few people turned to look, the man had turned too, she was relieved to find it wasn’t him, or at least she thought she was, as D. eased her into the car, she knew what she was going to name her baby……
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - -- - -- -
way back when i was in love, seemingly. . i wrote this, i dont knw if i like it but when i wrote it, i felt loved and i was in love, didnt knw one day it could seem so real.so possible!
Friday, May 21, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
I am 21, and struggling to define happiness or even feel it. 2 years ago, I was in love, or I thought I was, but it was the happiest I'd been. Now I don't want to be in love, there's nothing to pin my hopes on. I don't know how people get up every morning, I certainly struggle.
Why am I so lost? It is a question that I ask myself, every single morning, staring at the ceiling.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Makes me want to stop believing entirely but. . .
Friday, February 12, 2010
almond lip gloss
Trips to Atta
Salsa (the condiment)
World war II
Other people's birthdays
my innate south-Indianness
my innate Delhi-ness
the house where i grew up
Its ending, its actually ending. Oh man, it hits u in waves. . and somehow it isnt exactly like school ending, when school was done with, we were starry eyed kids, who thought they'd never lose touch with each other. But the stars are gone (atleast temporarily) four years down the line, and now we know that life eventually takes its course, and we have to struggle to make the relationships work.
1. Akhil Ankur Priya and I - no more confusing people with our myriad inter-personal relationships. . . . . best friend, lover, friendly love partner, sister, wife, ex wife, bossy wife, harried husband, harrassed husband, soulmate to name a (ph)ew.
(err... it may seem like it but we are not that sort of a group. thank you)
2. If I ever write a book ( not an audio book, WRITE),i will dedicate a few paragraphs of the foreword to akhil meeting me at 37 everyday. those are one fifth of my life's learning's and experiences right there.
3. Shopping is never going to be the same. ever. (that is, unless we wait for a bus, settle on an auto with me sitting on someone's lap, get there, feed a very hungry ankur before the shopping's even begun, deviate akhil from the latest "fads" in the market, deviate priya from every BIG bag, deviate me from anything pink or polka and end up with 46 bags of stuff) Never the same.
4. Why God Why?, how on earth will I ever live without a psycho gentleman/gentlewoman judging me every six months? ( known to laymen as the behavioral science class)
5. Why God Why? (sorry) How will i live without bitching about "Madam X" ( and that chihuahua tied to her at all times) ? How how? I cannot gossip/exchange facts if i dont know what's going on, if i am not around for the controversies, the fistfight's, the political influences, the treachery.... How, i ask you, HOW? *But I'll have to live, move on, these things happen, life's like that. *
okay, got your dose of drama? Now scoot!!
p.s. On a serious note, Our national Animal is fast disappearing, there are only 1411 tigers left in India. It is our responsibility to do something,do our part. hence I have decided to make my efforts.so can I possibly feed the tigers the subject of #5? and her chihuahua?
p.p.s - I would never do that, I like the tigers, they're already fast disappearing, why would i MAKE them run!
p.p.p.s- Valentine's day is here, I have no valentine, but i have love :). . i want to thank chachu, slutty cousin, normal cousin, married cousin, boy cousin,the tigers, the ex boyfriends, the ex friends, verma sir, tanzy, chottu garg, New BS teacher, Old BS teachers, College English teachers, Subham, Chauhan Sir, annoying juniors, annoying seniors and the college cafeteria (for giving a new meaning to Food)
Also mom and dad, my sister, nani, dadi.
Also Also Ankur Priya and Akhil!
And Prakhar :)
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Like thread through a needle
Everything I do is stitched with its colour"
some time ago I felt deep emotions, a very long time ago.
time for a change, its time for me to get rid of the guilt, it is time.
It took for you to sit across from me and not even acknowledge me for that to happen.