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Showing posts from 2010
“One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree. Which road do I take? she asked. Where do you want to go? was his response. I don't know, Alice answered. Then, said the cat, it doesn't matter.”

Lewis Caroll
(Alice in Wonderland )


I feel badly, for the person that you've become. The friend I had in you has died, his loss I have mourned. You make it easier for me to move on, to live my life without it being marred by your presence. I dont feel your absence, like I did yesterday.

At first I wondered, how you will survive, friendless and alone? But I realise,

You aren't worth it. At all.

The Last song of dusk

Life deals u hands, tough ones sometimes. But Life has plans for evryone, wether we like it or not, we must follow life's blueprints, its masterplans.

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 …
I head home in a week, I hear it is 10 Degrees there. . delhi's winter, the morning fog enveloping you, trees lining the street,the chilly wind, hot milk sold in earthen 'kullads', sugary jalebis, fiery momos, paranthas and the ability to block out nani's voice and pull ur blankets a little closer. . . . ah Delhi. As someone pointed out once, "The world is beautiful, but Delhi, Delhi is Home".

what wonderful emotion. . . .

I envy those
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.
I am :ordinary. for the most part.

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 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…

La Dolce Vita

there are days when i have awoken with a dislike for life, days where I haven't felt like living , i guess we've all had those day but today isn't one of them, I woke today with a love for life, with plenty of Joie de Vivre.....the joy of living.

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 :)

Coming Home

“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. An…

Paris, Je t'aime.

I want to see Paris, I realised that today while sipping tea, staring out the window .....that i want to go see Paris.

So like most 21 year old's in the world, I am adding Paris to this list
Awake for hours and staring at the ceiling
Through the unsettled stillness of the night
He grows possessed of the obsessive feeling
That dawn has come and gone and brought no light.
i miss....

my bed

washed clothes

mom's warm hands

nani frowning on my demands for "kucch accha" for dinner

my sister bugging me

dad's crushing scented hugs

DTC buses

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!

In bits I live. . .

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 sayThis is my proper groundHere I shall stay....
i recently heard someone mentioning how his blog was the best thing that he could have done to preserve memories otherwise lost in the ordinariness of daily life, and found myself agreeing completely.

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.

To Akhil,

"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."

She had been shopping then, something she hadn’t done for weeks, she hadn’t been out of the house much, she worried a lot now, but Ma assured her, babies knew just when to come, they never came when you were sick or confused but when they knew you were ready to welcome them, that had comforted her. It was the first time in weeks she had felt like herself again, she loved every bit of her new role, which was about to come. D. had come out with her today and had ventured into a bookstore to buy her something good, her birthday as a week away, and he silently hoped the baby would come then and it would be a double celebration.

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 …


when i started writing this blog, In retrospect, it feels like I had something to write about, Lokking back at some of those posts, some extremely embarrassing. and yet, There was something to write about then.

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.
I have an aunt who has been diagnosed with breast cancer, she underwent her first round of chemotherapy this week. This erstwhile agile, active woman is now confined to her bed, and needs to be tended to every two hours, she needs proteins, milk and most of all company. Her only daughter is currently giving her class 12 board exams, and showing maturity far beyond her years but she too needs a helping hand, in such a time, all that her closest relatives can think about is how offering help will affect them and their lives.

God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to a…

I Love


almond lip gloss

friday evening





country music

vikram seth


Trips to Atta


Staying home

The Fifties



My sister

Salsa (the condiment)


World war II




My birthday

Other people's birthdays


Selfless people

quiet mornings

my kitchen





my innate south-Indianness

my innate Delhi-ness

my school

priya's smile

the house where i grew up


when you're sitting in class, surrounded by the three idiots you love a lot (and who love you back), and you hear that exams and 2 months away, you yawn and say," so?". . . and then one of them gets that look on their face, you think 'what drama man!' and say "what?!". . . then the dumbfounded expression gives way to the undeniable fact that college ends in those two months!! and then you say, "!*&%@!@#@". (pardon me, I AM a lady)

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.

So, in waves, i am gonna start posting an un-exhaustive list of all things College/That Place/Hell-hole ( thoda sen…
"Your absence has gone through me
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.
fog.winter.Delhi.............nowhere else i'd be!!