Tuesday, October 18, 2011

set fire to rain

Sometime when I feel this way, I remember the way you used to make me feel and the way you never made me feel.. And I can't decide whether I'm better off without you or not. All I know is that I still crave what you couldn't give to me, and I treasure everything we used to be. 

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

The Letter.

"A wise man once told me, "We can't change the direction of the winds, all we can do is adjust our sails and try to reach our destination." Sometimes we set sail without knowing where we want to go, where it is that the winds want to guide our ship, and how the storms at sea will treat us. It is in times like these that we learn our most faithful companion is our conscience, our worst enemy a broken will, our best guide experience and our only motivation time and greed.

One day, I too pulled the anchor of my ship, cut the ropes that tied it to the deck and set sail bereft of even the knowledge of the weathers I was going to have to suffer.

Had it not been for that voyage I undertook 17 years ago, you probably would never have had my blood streaming through your veins, and I would never have had to deal with the regret of seeing you shudder at the thought of being the closest anyone can be to another man... A Father to his Son.

Today, I write to you, trying to fulfill the last of those duties I never realized I had. I write to you trying to share some of the few stories hiding in secrecy of a parallel world I now visit only in my dreams. And I beg for this one chance to acknowledge you as my son, for I have longed this chance ever since reality dawned on me...

It was the summer of 1985 when I first saw a glimpse of that pretty lady in Blue. I saw her standing on our new neighbor's balcony, staring into space, smiling occasionally at the pigeons walking around her feet and perched on the clothes' line. Sometimes, I still wonder what it was about her that caught my attention, what it was that shook my world every time I looked her into eyes, what it was that made me smile even when she wasn't around... What it is that still makes her one of the most pleasant memories I can ever have. If there's one thing you should know, it's that I think of her when I talk about everything under the Sun. Because as far as my memory allows, that's all we ever talked about. But unfortunately for most of us, we can never get the things we want, the way he want them because they're not meant to be. We chase one thing after another, feel like we've finally found ourselves a place we'd like to make home with someone who we think we have forever, until one day the dreams we had, the ones whose vividness made them feel like a reality too good to be true, start smudging away like the water colors of a painting under the drops of sudden rain on a beautiful sunny day. But what the weather can't take away is, the longing to bask in the sun and all it's glory and all the happiness that we're brought up to believe it signifies.

I used to think that people come into other people's life for a reason. And I still like to believe that the reason your mother came into mine was to teach me how to be with someone when you know all their flaws. It was the best of lessons learned in one of the 'not so good' ways. As I plunged myself deeper into her mind, I realized it was a beautiful place, filled with questions that I never thought she wouldn't have the answers to. It was a pattern of criss-crosses that depicted the contrasts of her realizations that often only led her to believe that there was no way she could follow something or someone to happiness. As courageous as she was, I could feel her whimper to the thought of being unloved and uncared for. There were times when I could feel her running away and instead of stopping her, I only pushed myself away further, only to realize that all she ever wanted was to be followed by someone who wouldn't keep the promise of helping her retrace her footsteps but would hold her hand to jump across railway tracks to reach the platform that could help her catch the right train home.

We fought, we shouted, we hurled the strongest of words at each other and she, only she cried. Because neither of understood, or maybe we didn't want to be misunderstood. And with every fight we had, those dreams we had together broke, and we only cut ourselves deeper with the crude edges of the glass house that we could never turn to stone. All our lives we learn how to be the bigger person, how to forgive and forget, to let go and move on, to remember and shrug away the hurtfulness of the memories we will always have, and to love and try not to hate. The joke that life makes out of us all is that we keep learning these things time and time again as we try and keep loved ones in our life no matter how many times they falter... But one day, all of us run out of forgiveness, patience, and tolerance. And end up losing the people we thought we would always have, which only leads us to stop thinking about the people that will stay, because in the end the people who're with you, are the ones you never knew you had. And somewhere, that's what happened to me too.

My summer grew cold. Not only had the time to go back to New York  come, but the thought of leaving her behind with all the mess that I wanted to fix, left me desperate to find a solution to all the unhappiness we had created for ourselves. But even in midst of all that I had faith that this love was right, because she could belong to no one else. I had faith that she would never abandon me, because she knew it was my biggest fear. She never felt like family, but I wanted one with her. Somehow, the urge to be happy with her had taken over my wish to be happily married to anyone else.

I was in New York for about a year more. I wrote to her, I wrote for her. I made every promise to come back sooner than she expected and hoped that things would exactly the way they were when I had last held her hand. But how poisonous wishful thinking can be. It makes one hope against hopelessness.

But she was unhappy, and as much as I hated to admit back then, so was I. I found her writing in grief of her worst fears that I had suddenly brought to life. She crumpled her thoughts on loose pieces of paper that eventually found their way to trash cans and fires that she lit as an attempt to make herself believe that she'd taken one step further than she had the last time she saw the black carbon ashes in our favorite corner of the terrace. When I got back, the distance that we thought would do some good to help us realize how much we wanted and needed to be each other only made the brick walls between us thicker. What bothered me was our willingness to break them down, because we thought there were so many things that were better left unsaid. We did try though, but in vain. She was always right about me when she said that I could NEVER let go of things, whether good or bad. And she was right when she told me in the end, that she was sorry that there was so many scars that she had left me. And as much as I wish she could take those scars with her, they're as fresh today as they were years ago... The only difference is that I've learned to live with them. 

In all of this, I don't want you to think that there was never a moment of Joy. Even though there were more bad days than good, the best of days make me smile even today... And as much as I'd like to tell you about them, I think I owe you the reasons for my absence more. 

We try day in and day out to be good people. Some of us live in the fear of Karma, others in fear of losing the people they care about. But all of us try... But they're always those people we can never be good to, for whom we'll always be the bad people, the selfish ones, the insensitive ones.... And we get to live with being their biggest regrets. All of this.. Not because we want to.. But because things just happen whether you want them or not. Maybe your mother was that person to me. Maybe I'm that person to you. "

I crumpled the letter and tossed into the bin. Because he could never know the person I knew my mother to be. 

*To Be Continued* 

Thursday, July 21, 2011

To New Beginnings and Perspectives

Just because you're crying doesn't mean you're not happy. It just means that someone makes enough of a difference to your life to hurt you. But if you're exactly what makes them unhappy, let them go. Don't hold on to them, cuz if you really care, somewhere in the midst of all your broken dreams, lost smiles and newly found tears, you'll find solace in the fact that wherever they are, they're happier without you. And as for yourself. Don't lose heart. Because somewhere on the face of this planet, someone is going to come along, and you're going to mean the world to them.

To new beginnings and perspectives. Cheers.

Friday, July 8, 2011

Too Much of Anything...

When closure comes too soon, I wonder whether I miss having that ray of hope that maybe one day, things will be.....but then again, who ever got a second chance at building their faith?

We're all fighting to keep something alive in us. Tragically, it's the only part of us we can't manage to save. Because we're all destined to be someone, to be some way, to do something and to have things happen to us, to make us what we're meant to be.

I might have been able to show others the way, but I can't seem to figure out when I lost my own. I used to be stuck in a whirlpool of memories that would keep me going round and round in the same old circles.....but I know I felt someone pull me out. I know that because for a change it wasn't just a weak tug at the broken strings of my heart, but a force that stretched those tiny strands of feelings I had in me, only to weave them into the happiness I wore over myself for the most unforgettable months of my life.

If there's something you should know, it's that too much of anything can be too much. If I'm sill alive, it's because I didn't have enough time to build the memories that could kill me...

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Men are from Mars

My sister has been reading this really popular book on relationships for quite a few weeks now. I'm pretty sure every bloody person on this planet must have heard of it-Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus. Out of sheer boredom I picked it up and started reading it today and after going through the first page I came across something that made me want to post it on my blog. MEN PLEASE READ!

"I had always thought of myself as a loving person. But she was right. I had always been a fair-weathered friend. As long as she was happy and nice, I loved back. But if she was unhappy or upset, I would feel blamed and argue back or distance myself."

Men need to be smart like that... Like John Gray. Please go pick up a copy of the book and please read it if you haven't already. The book makes sense. I'm telling you. It's saving me from turning into a sexist bitch who hates men.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Hear Me Out?

I'd left a familiar stranger at the same cross road where I am today. I can feel his presence around me somewhere, or maybe it's wishful thinking. I can still explain the latter, because I want him to know that I finally am aware of how it feels to be misunderstood, to have our intentions misread to the point that every bit of innocence and good that we have in them is forcefully blackened and rubbed onto our wounds that they say we inflicted on ourselves. What scares me the most is that I never wanted to be like him, never wanted to think the way he did, never wanted to be blind like he was. But now, I realize that there's more to it than just that. It's not about being blind, it's about not being able to look in the right direction, to hear the right things or find the right meanings. I've tried to never make the same mistakes, but for a reason I may never be able to comprehend, I find myself ending up battered and bruised, even when I've done the right thing and said the right words.

I've come to realize that best things in life come along with a lot of sacrifice. There will come a time when you will realize that you have let go of your ego so much that you can't decided whether it was the ego you  compromised on or the dignity, pushed your levels of tolerance to the point that you can't tell what frustrates you more-your helplessness, your anger at being wronged, or that you didn't let go before. One day, because of that ONE thing, you won't be able to tell what it was that hurt you more- the fact that you let yourself become so vulnerable or of the consequences of mistakes that you never made. And if you find that all of this wasn't worth it, that it would have been better to let go and move on a long time ago, you've had your final blow.

I was once told that people come into other people's lives for a reason. And being the person I am, I've made sure to learn from every bitter experience that I've had to thorn my way out of. The only regret I have, is that some things change you for life, and I find myself changing into the person I never wanted to be, and whatever the reason be, I don't want to stop the change anymore.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Some things are just best left unsaid....

The Seasons change, and the comforting autumn winds give way to winter. But nothing will ever come close the feeling of that first winter when you left your naked heart out in the cold with nothing but the warmth from the fire in the hearth of love. And the seasons change every year, the winds still carry the memories that hover over your concealed smiles, and the heat of passion is like the lost dreams of summer in a land that's always trying to find the grass beneath it's cover of ice.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011


Hello everyone!

I know I've been irregular with my blog! Sigh. Trust me when I say this, I just haven't had the time. I've been writing stuff on my blackberry's memopad but I've never really gotten down to posting it on my blog! But now my blackberry's been confiscated at school! And though I was initially worried about how I would survive, I'm okay. I do miss it, I have to admit... But then again, I've been spending time with my sisters off late. And it feels GOOD!

That was effin' random and I don't have much to say because life's boring. BUT, I've got some GREAT news! I got the award for ONE LOVELY BLOG by Kanika who recently celebrated her blog's 100th post anniversary! She's got one heck of a creative blog and her photography is darn good too! You should go pay her a visit! :)

Thank You Kanika! You're the S-AWESOME! :P

Friday, April 15, 2011

As it burns through me.

I get up every morning with this pain in my chest that I love with every bit of life that's left in me. Every sunrise that I witness, is an explosion of light in my pleasant dreams, making it too luminous to feel their vividness anymore. And maybe that's why everyday, I await the sight of the sun at the horizon at dusk, knowing that it won't be too long before I can let reality loosen its grip over me and let myself fall back in love, fall back into those pleasant dreams that I keep safely in my chamber of secrets of a past that I can only hope comes my way again.

He was a change that I didn't need to force myself to accept. His absence, is the scar that I protect from being healed, because it's the pain that keeps me closest to him in every possible way. It's the pain that makes me cry, makes me smile in wonder of the blush that never ceases to burn my cheeks when the smallest of gestures and softest of words remind me of a time when I didn't need to look back to be convinced of their happenings.

There were answers that I never got, questions that made my heart ache as they lingered on for an eternity that I tried to lose to time. There was a fear of being forgotten that haunted my sanity, for what I always wanted to be was, the ghost that wandered its way into his present, a dancing skeleton in his cupboard of omnipresent guilt, his pursuit to happiness without a trace of footprints to guide him, and the seductive hush through soft lips that he longed to kiss.

For there will come a time when you will hang on to the pain, just so you feel remembered for the hurt you were caused...

Sunday, March 13, 2011

There's just too much that time cannot erase.

Sometimes, the wounds we have, and the cuts our souls bleed from, don’t ever get healed. We just become used to having a part of ourselves die every day, with every drop of blood that falls to the floor of our shattered belief in happy endings and victory of good over evil. That pain becomes a part of us, of our existence. It’s our story of what made us who we are, the footprints that will lead a follower to the destination we’re at, even if he doesn’t know he’s treading the same path, because the bright light of love, blinds his sight of conscious thinking and makes him walk a path of thorny rose bushes that cut him so deep that by the time he realizes, his will to even try, has lost itself like the roses he had managed to pick along the way. But that’s what love is. A lover would rather live that pain, than regret walking that path, because among the countless lovers that have found themselves in the same place, he lives with the hope that his love was the strongest, the purest, most worthy of another journey of that pain he will always carry in his heart, because it’s the evidence of his most humane days, when he was ready to forgive even if he couldn’t forget, to hurt even if he couldn’t be healed. He can never forget those times when he would sit alone in the dark, seeing the flame of a candle in the darkest dungeons of hopelessness. He can never forget the feeling of sheer bliss and buoyancy that floated over his smiles. And nothing could overcome the overwhelming joy he couldn’t contain in his chest. He will always want to hold on to the last memories as much as the first, steal a look and see the and see them looking back at him with the same love and affection, which will never die out like the small fire that couldn’t survive the coldest winter night.

Time changes everything. What once seemed like a better world now seems cruel, because, things, people and emotions all lose their value to the same. They say that time heals all wounds, but we lovers only know that there’s just too much that time cannot erase. Because in between the pain I breathe and the tears I cry, I am still a lover.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Wohooooooo! =D

Finally even I have to deal with one of the worst things that could happen to a writer... Actually, calling myself a writer feels weird so I'll stick with blogger for now. Getting back to the problem. I'm having a really bad phase of writer's block. And it's not my fault. I just got over with my finals! See, that's reason enough. And my finals have gone horribly wrong..my attendance at school is just 50%..my teachers hate me.... Do I need another reason to think my promotion is at stake? =|

But but but... now that my finals are over and my report card is a few days away (I can't even begin to tell you how worried I am. Hardly any good schools take admissions in 12th Grade.), I'm going to make the most of my time!

Yesterday, when school got off, I went out with Puneeta and Unnati, sat in Toro for a bit and had free food and drinks because the owner is a friend (HA, I BET YOU'RE JEALOUS!). The place is new. AND GOOD! I was so impressed. The grilled chicken was bloody amazing. And the virgin mojitos were the best I've ever had. For anyone who's bothering to go through this post, go treat yourself. You won't regret it.

I got back home by nine thirty. Because I'd washed my hair after school, I was tired. Now, I know you're wondering what washing my hair has to do with that, so I must tell you, I get exhausted while washing my hair. I don't know why. I usually sleep for four hours straight once I'm done. But since I had to go out, I missed out on my "NAP" . So I slept early.. by eleven that is. For some weird reason I was wide awake by four thirty and was tossing in bed for the next hour. It was then that I decided to call Piyush. The guy's an owl and good company. But then again, he slept early for some reason too. But then my IPOD saved the morning. I started listening to some old lovey-dovey songs until I fell alseep listening to music.

Now, the best part of this rant.

Nilanjana came over this morning. By eleven we were out on the roads of Delhi. My sister and I went with her to this place called Pahadganj, ( I told my mom CP, =P ) and had the best photoshoot ever. I tried my hand at photography and I'd like to believe I wasn't too bad. I clicked some epic profilers for Nil and Shreeya! (Yes, I'm basking in the sun of self appreciation. =D ) We spent hours just taking random pictures of random things. It was something that Nilanjana and I had been planning for a long time. And though it wasn't just the both of us, I had an amazing time =)

The worst part of the day was Sam's cafe in pahadganj. Aye Haye! The thought of that place makes me sick. The food........... is not EDIBLE. And you know what, though the rest of the day was good, I hated wasting 360 BUCKS on that food (that I didn't eat). I ended up getting it packed and giving it to beggars What a waste. You want to know what my spaghetti looked like? Here's a tiny description. It was bland and oily and had home made butter and cheese just THROWN in as toppings. Ew.

But the metro rides were damn fun! Figuring the way out wasn't easy but we managed to come back in one piece. I think I could get used to stuff like this! =)

Anyway, I'm off!

Bye bye! =D

Thursday, February 24, 2011

And THIS is a true story.

People come..... And they go. Sometimes, even when you don't want to, you have to kick them out of your life. Some people would say that I'm simply hurt right now. But nobody will even come close to gauging the anger inside me;anger that is deeply rooted in hurt.

I once came across this line while reading a book. "There is no greater crime than theft. When you lie, you're stealing someone's right to know the truth." It was in the same book that I read another line-"For you, a thousand times over."

Dishonesty has always been a tight slap across my face. I've never been able to tell why though. People lie all the time. But when someone lies to me, there's no shove as ruthless, there's no anger so potent, there's no stronger force choking my throat.

This is isn't my story. It's hers. Someone exactly like me. Someone, who's habit of lying to me, has been the cause of so much hurt and anger. Because, if she couldn't trust me, I couldn't trust her.. and we had no other. It was just her.. and me...

He came walking into her life one day, making no promise of being there when the moonless night slowly crashed into the sunny, summer morning, who's light hurt your eyes after a slumber bereft of pleasant dreams. And to think she wouldn't know if he spent half of the night in another woman's bed, after singing her lullabies of soft kisses before she closed her eyes to see if she could feel him beside her for just one night, kicked her self esteem and pride... for he thought she was a fool.

Fate finds its way of telling you the secrets you're destined to know. Evidence finds its way to you even when you're not looking.  And when she found out, it was over.

But what that doesn't change... is the anger. That anger rooted in hurt. Because, his bed was never going to be lonely... and hers would be a reminder of nothing else but betrayal, unspoken words that her mind and heart still longed to hear, and an unwilling self to ever do the same. But more than anything, it was a reminder that... for the sake of the sweet memories that she deluded herself into thinking were pure, symbolic of affection and nothing else.. she would go through that sweet pain, a thousand times over.

This is isn't my story. It's hers. Someone exactly like me. Someone, who's habit of lying to me about her pain, has been the cause of so much hurt and anger. Because, if she couldn't trust me, I couldn't trust her.. and we had no other. It was just her.. and me... It was just my conscience and me...

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

This is going to be a happy place for a while .

So, it's been a while since I've been thinking about changing the look of my blog. A very, VERY close friend of mine told me that it had become a sad and depressing place. And I couldn't agree more. For a lot of reasons, I had been going through this depressed, morbid phase in my life... and things were just not falling into place. And all I could do was vent it out by writing.. and MOST of those pieces of writing found their way to my blog. And though I'm glad that during that phase I wrote things that were appreciated so whole heartedly by my fellow followers, I don't want them to think that I only write depressing stuff. Because, I'm usually a happy person. And you know what reminded me of the person I'd stopped being for a while? It was this friend's letter to me on my 16th Birthday! She made me realize that my retarded smile and my attitude towards life of finding happiness in the smallest of things, made her smile a lot more everyday even if she didn't have the biggest reasons to. So, Nilanjana, ILoveYou! =*

So, I played around with colors and now my blog looks like a happier place to me! Tell me what you guys think! =D

Oh and btw, I deleted that stupid formspring account of mine. What a worthless forum. Weird stalkers keep asking you the same questions about the SAME people over and OVER again. And it's annoying. Because most of the questions are offensive and come from people who don't have a standard, who can't maintain their dignity and try to make the other person look down. So BYE-BYE STUPID FORMSPRING AND ALL THOSE STUPID PEOPLE WHO KEPT ASKING ME IDIOTIC QUESTIONS! =*

Now for some damn good news! I GOT ANOTHER BLOG AWARD from two very versatile bloggers themselves! Thank You KANIKA and MEHER! =D *Hugs*

So, there are some things that I need to do. Here goes! =D

1. Thank the person who loved you enough to bestow this gift. 
    DONE! =*

2. Share seven things about yourself.
     This is going to be RANDOM!


I can be a little superstitious sometimes. :S

I am obsessed with this guy's name. It's so Frickin' LONG! (Piyush Yudhveer Vikramaditya Bhardwaj.. Isn't it amazing?)

I LOVE STATIONARY! I collect it actually! =P

I love talking. I always have so much to say. Sometimes I think I should become a TV anchor or Counselor! (For the record, I give good advise.)

I am a SCIENCE STUDENT. And though I love my subjects, I haven't scored too well this year.

I had braces for almost two years. And I never grinned in ANY picture until they actually came off. =P

There. All done! =D

3. Bestow this honor onto 10 newly discovered or followed bloggers– in no particular order– who are fantastic in some way.
I'm only giving out four.

4. Drop by and let your ten new friends know you admire them.
On it! =D

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Light a match, I'm burning my memories.

What did life want now? It was all she could think of. She wanted to shake alive every dormant incident that she had hidden in the corners of the darkest rooms of her mind and think about what was left with that life could take away forever.. any other thing that she could stack away in those dark rooms, whose doors when opened made her wince with embarrassment at her juvenile stupidity, at those mistakes she wished she'd never made. She was always regarded as the one who grew up way too fast. Wisdom dawned her aura, and yet it seemed as if the child deep within her surfaced too often, trying to live a life it never could, making that worldly knowledge of people curtain itself, as if almost unwilling to disturb the child in her at its best. But like I said, wisdom dawned her aura. When she was looked at, it was not her stunningly beautiful face framed by waves of long black hair that people noticed first. It was that intimidating feeling that washed through them, an unwillingness to know what lay behind those eyes. She had heard men talking about how much they loved a woman who had an untouched innocence about her. Little did she know that it was exactly the opposite of THAT, some daring men found most appealing about her. It was the confidence with she walked, the few second glances at people by which she could easily tell who they were on the inside, the way she completed everybody's sentences, knowing exactly what they wanted to say (better than they did) because she had gone through it all. Life as she knew it had been unkind to her often, but like the millions of lessons she had learned, she knew that it was because of that unkindness that she was not just any other woman in any man's life. She was who she wanted to be, always holding the upper hand, the one who passively controlled and molded things around her. That was the strength of her aura, something no one had ever been able to take from her.

But today, she sat down quietly wondering why the past was trying to become her present now. She wondered why the people she had let go off an eternity ago wanted to be a part of her life now. Didn't they know that things would never be the same? Or did they think she was weak because she had chosen to let go and run away. Devyangani had always known that she was never the weak one. Over the years, she had learned that neither running away or letting go were signs of weakness and cowardice because, she was one of the few who knew  the courage and strength it took to let go and move on and try and forget something she'd held on to so strongly. And every time those things knocked at her door, she knew how much strength it took to shove them out, to tell herself that there was no room for second thoughts to cross her mind. She knew how much strength it took to remind herself time and again that there were some things she never did. Going back on a word she had promised herself was one of them. So yes, there was no turning back! There never would be, even if she sometimes wished she could.

But today was different. It wasn't any other past that had turned up at her door. No, it wasn't that friend who had once betrayed. No, it wasn't that sister who didn't care. And no, it wasn't that family that once turned their back. She winced at the thought of who it was. As she wrecked journals of memories, she remembered an old friend who'd been with her through it all. She remembered the words that had once slipped her tongue. . Its never going to leave you alone. It will tag along one day and you'll find yourself right where you were in the first place.. She had been right about the first part. That past had never left her. It always came back every few years for reasons she did not know. For reasons, she didn't want to know for her sake. But that friend had been wrong about the second part. It didn't leave her where she had started. She was miles away from the beginning because the void had been filled up by experience and wisdom. Every time that past knocked on the door, she found herself beckoning the strength everyone knew she had. The power to never look back, to swear on her blood to keep the promises others couldn't keep. And so she walked away every time. And she didn't care who thought she was weak. Because she always knew that walking away had always been an option, but she was never the reason she had made it her choice.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011


I am SO happy right now, it's not even funny! Really! =D

So, I've received my SECOND blog award! And it's for being a STYLISH BLOGGER (Ooooo yeah! =P)

I love it when people love my work. I feel like there's a little bit of talent hiding in me, and it's going to bloom someday. And when those people go out of the way to appreciate it, I feel even better! And I am so glad that MEHER awarded me as one of the most stylish bloggers (I still can't get over it.)

(And yes, I'd like to thank that person who first introduced me to blogging and taught me how to MAKE a blog. Okay, I admit. I didn't know how to make a blog. I have issues with the internet.. and technology in general.)

So, I have to follow a couple of steps! Here goes! =D

1. Thank and link back to the person who awarded you this award  :: [DONE]

2. Share 7 things about yourself.

Here goes,
1. I LOVE chocolate. I think it's the best thing that's ever happened to me. I have it everyday. And when I'm stressed, I love walking down to Baskin N Robins and getting myself chocolate ice-cream.

2. I may look like I have my life sorted. I take it very easy mostly. But inside, I'm as confused as any other confused kid. I may give good, practical advice, but.. I'm still trying to follow it on my own.

3. I have HUGE EGO ISSUES. And I can be a STUBBORN bitch. I may look like I can take critique very well, but if it isn't said in a nice way, I will not accept it and I might just strangle you.

4. I naturally have a VERY loud voice. Even when I'm normally talking to someone, they have to ask me to lower down the volume. And it's ANNOYING. Because I AM NOT SHOUTING!

5. I haven't exercised since Summer 2008. I've been trying to ever since. =P

6. If I LOVE you, I LOVE you. If I HATE you, then you'll find me being very intolerant to the sound of your voice.

7. What else? =S
     OH YEAH! My brother thinks I sound like a receptionist on the phone. Because this is how I go when he gives me a missed call from another number. "Hello, good evening. I just got a missed call from this number. May I know who's on the line?" I wonder why? =P

3. Award 15 recently discovered great bloggers ::

I'm sorry. I'm only handing out four. =)

4. Contact these bloggers and tell them about the award!

On my way in a bit.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Because my wounds are open, they're bleeding life.

I had never been drunk before. NEVER. I had never forced the bitter taste down my throat just for the heck of it. NEVER. I had never wanted to be reckless and uncontrollable. NEVER. Some thought that it was an act, others thought that I was immature. I'd rather be the latter, I'd never wanted to grow up so fast. But today, I sat quietly at the bar, drowning myself in the overpowering strength of the bitterness that rotted the taste on my tongue, burning my insides as I tried to gulp it down faster every time. I didn't like the taste, though I marveled the way it played with my head. Thoughts were a blur, exactly how I wished they were all the time. The irony. Today, I wanted to sleep. Tomorrow I wanted to get up, not remembering what I did, not remembering tonight before it happened, not remembering the person I was just now. Why? Because I wanted to forget tonight.

I was alone. I stared at the cardboard box in front of me. Memories. That's what it was full off. Memories of her. Her... He couldn't forget her. And it killed me because I could never hold her place. It killed me because he held THAT place in me. Today, she came back. And the memories he stored away in that box, it seemed, took a long deep breath that blew my way in strong gusts of winds, the black blinding smoke of a crowded past I could never make him forget. I played with his favorite lighter. He always kept it on the bar in a small custom made box. I made a small game of the sparks I saw, every second one bursting into a sudden tiny flame.

My aim usually sucked. I could almost never catch a ball before it hit my head, or throw it to someone before it hit theirs. Today, as I threw the lighter into the box, I couldn't help but think how wrong I had been about my aim. I saw the box burn to ashes. The fire dying as soon as every page of every journal, every picture of every moment he cherished, every souvenir of a long lost love, was lost in the tides of hatred and revenge. I knew she was never going to stay. I knew she was going to kill the remnants of every little hope he had had for them. I knew and he did too, but I wasn't going to wait for anything to sink in.

I knew I had killed a part of him just there. Every little thing he had held on to, every little thing he thought he would hold on to for an eternity that would end only with him, had been brutally stabbed until they bled in flames of hurt. I had killed a part of him right there. And as I walked out the door, I left that part of him on the floor, only to be discovered by someone who wouldn't be able to kill himself, or live with the nothingness I had created by burning away his years.

Because I wanted to forget tonight...

Saturday, January 29, 2011

I'm Coming Clean...

I find it hard to believe, how people can simply forget how it feels to be put through some of the worst experiences of their lives and then have the heart to put someone else in their shoes and treat them like they're inhuman. Those who were taken for granted, take others for granted. Those who were cheated on, cheat on others. Those who lost their hope and faith, crash and murder the tiny fragments of hope that's left in others. I was cheated on by someone who got cheated on by his ex-girlfriend 6 times. And to think that someone who understood what it felt like to have something like that happen to him, would never do anything of hat sort to me... How wrong I was. And right now. I don't know what to feel. I was taken for granted once before. I was treated like shit. My ego and pride were burned to ashes. All this, was done by someone who went through the exact same with the only girl he had ever loved. Her memories lurked around in his mind, and despite knowing what he was doing to me, he went ahead with it. And though I have forgiven him. I can never forget. Because, despite having moved on. Despite having let go off him, because of what he did, I can never make myself vulnerable to anyone. Never let anyone know what I am behind the smile I always have on my face.

After reading this post, I'll probably get a million questions on formspring. Offensive questions that would probably make me want to slap the one who's asking me. And I only have one thing to say to those people.

"FUCK YOU. I hope you die and burn in hell. I hope you go through worse and never build up the strength to get over it. And I hope you NEVER get you reasons for closure. I hope karma bites you in the ass and you never understand why it's happening to you.
Lots of HATE.

Thank You.

Saturday, January 22, 2011


I loved cigars on late afternoons like these. Those days when I would laugh at that priest who once lectured us on how promiscuity was a sin. It was on afternoons like these that I found creativity flowing out of me like the smoke I exhaled or rather choked my lungs with. Life was too short to live on others' terms. And I chose to have it my way. Even if that made me the perfect bastard.

I stretched in my chair and stared at the screen for a minute. I was trying to recall a certain phrase that hit my mind before I... allowed myself to be relaxed by those slender, long arms that led to her voluptuous bosom, hidden in the light black net of her bra that I could see through. The flamboyance and comfort she radiated in that naked skin made me all the more impatient. Like every other thing I really wanted, I needed to my hands on her....

Lucy walked into the study in her skimpy night gown. She still hadn't bothered to put her lingerie back on and I could see how the satin perfectly outlined her nipples. If I weren't the bastard I was, I would have waited another month or so, gotten to know her a little better, but I genuinely couldn't care less. If I couldn't charm my way through, I wasn't short of money. But that was the last of my problems. And what made me a bigger ass hole was the self awareness. I 'd been told I had a way and I made it a point to use it to make it through. What the heck anyway? I was 27. A writer. A successful one at that. And I did get the attention I wanted. Could you blame me?

But I had to give it to her. It was the best sex I'd had in a while. I guess it was because I was initially attracted to her presence and the persona she was. She was the lady in red, and eyes followed her all evening. I would have to admit I was lucky this time. But like every other woman I'd ever come across, I didn't feel the need to bid a proper farewell to her. It was almost like every night and this was just another afternoon. And it was my favorite cigar and my favorite time to write.

"Would you like me to call you a cab?" It was the same line I used for the last one who walked into this study and definitely the one I was going to use the next day.

"No. Thank You. I've made my arrangements. I should be leaving in about an hour."

That was easy, I thought to myself. I was expecting something more elaborate from her. I nodded and smiled at her. She returned one, which meant that she wasn't going to curse me later on. Well that made one of the sort that wouldn't hate me.

My evenings were busy. Meetings, conferences and  my daily newspaper column. And by the end of it, it was time for another late night event where I found my next prey. And my day would start itself in the same way. A different woman, a different cab, different thoughts, a new story and the same cigar.

It was the same old circle of life, until I met her one day. It was the smallest, most casual meeting that I had ever had. People said, I had changed. But four years later I was still the same old person. The promiscuous son of a bitch, the heart breaker women usually referred to as the one you could fuck but couldn't fall for. Because it was just a matter of time before you found yourself being pushed away like the many others, into taxis he called every morning before he started working on his latest novel. The only thing that had changed was my style of writing. Over time I noticed how abstract I had become and how noticeably broken I was to my readers.  I thought of her everyday and every time I was with another woman. Now, the others had become mere comparisons that could never match up.

She just left. I couldn't think of what went wrong. Or what I had done. But one day I woke up to find that she was gone. All she had left was a note saying that she was sorry that consisted of only two sentences.

I had never thought over anything about my personal life until then. I tried to think about the time I had hurt someone so bad to deserve something that tore my insides into bits I couldn't even feed to my once diabolic  conscience. It was then that I realized, that sometimes, life doesn't want you to change. All it wants is to bite your ass so hard that you think twice before sitting down. I was nothing less than the whores I slept with and I learned how to be a lover until one fine day, I found myself where I had started in the first place.

It was perfect... Maybe too perfect. But then she left. And I could never find it in me to hate her. Because I never could.  For the sake of redemption, I tried to remember the last time I had hurt someone that bad. Was it that pretty girl back in high school when I was 18? Or was it the girl  I was with in New York when I was 22? Guilt only seeped in because I was finally the broken mess those women were.

Her name was Noor.  Over time she became a writer's untold story, whose silence screamed out to anxious hearts that longed to hear the words that could never be verbalized. She was my hidden strength, a reminder of the courage I had to still be in one piece on the outside, to be able to hide from anyone, except my reader.

I remembered the first day I saw her.

*To be Continued*

Saturday, January 15, 2011


Your footsteps dwindled into the sound of heartbeats that I heard on silent nights when I cried myself to sleep. Your love faded into the last of the resounding echoes of the pain that screamed out of my soul. The look in your eyes reminded me of the wind-less stillness before the earth breathed a storm over a tiny island's shore, and engulfed its white sands in enraged, black waves. Your hurt was like the rub of sandpaper against open wounds, exposed to the torturing heat of a naked fire. Your distance was a ruthless shove, and your voice will always be the splinter inside me.

It's a new year. And like everybody else, I too, am looking for my new beginning. Because, no matter how many times we said we were going to start afresh, we only tangled ourselves in the same old stories that had no end, the ones we couldn't record in books that we could keep in the top shelves of a forbidden library.

The autumn leaves had fallen and left their trees bare, to shiver away in a long, cold winter. The white fluffy snowflakes against the darkest shades of brown, are the sole beauty of this barren season. Spring, is a long way from here. But this is the season of love for me. Staggering confessions bite harder than the spine chilling cold that we can never get used to. And the thick fog is only a safe hiding place for those on the run, those infinite secrets we live in, for those who refuse to see reality because it's more painful than the bubble they've created for themselves and those countless lovers trying to steal a moment away from the world, to make it theirs forever, something that they will own even when the most materialistic things are lost to human greed, betrayal and the fruits of karma.

People say the same things, do the same mistakes, over and over again. And it's about time I realized, old conversations become new only because the people we talk to change. We're still part of the same old stories... Somehow, the conversations I had with you, will never have the chance to renew themselves in my present.