Knowing Me...

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If I say I'm just a teenager leading a life as normal as it can get, I sort of defy what I stand for. Its not all that easy but it has its moments. I like those moments when they come along and they bring with them a significant amount of emotion, which I only began expressing in words at age 7. Since then, its all about the writing. It gets to certain people and some just don't get it! But I think that its important for me to write because that is maybe the only talent that exists in me [not denying the presence of good enough speech to win a few here and there =P] There is little I know and there is much I simply yap about but I make sure that if its really got to be said, it better be said, however in the wrong or right. I feel much. There are lot of things I plainly observe and those are sort of the things that I adore writing about. I'm inspired by minute details and small things that have a huge impact much later on. There is much more to me that most know and many have bothered not about. Not like I want them to. But I'd like to be known. And that's what I think I stand for, being known beyond what is known. =D

Saturday, December 1, 2012


My year starts in January,
all warm and fuzzy and bright.
The days are all so Spring-y,
Calm and cool are the nights.

Spring gives way to summer,
And heat rises to the highest grade,
but just then the summer scorches down,
And all I do is hunt for shade.

I drench myself in monsoon air
and raindrops that incessantly pour.
The weather seems to drown me,
I wonder why, and how much more.

Autumn tries to calm me,
but there’s only haze instead of greys.
And I look around me
upon a world that slowly decays.

As the leaves fall from shedding trees
and all the darkness throngs,
I resolve to spend December
making myself strong.

Strong for icy blasts of air,
Those reminders of the end,
Make me forget that my solace
Is right around the bend.

And so the hopes are up again
for a warm and fuzzy retreat.
But it’s a just a rewound cassette
I’ve been playing on repeat.

I feel all these sensate seasons,
but as each of the other bereaves,
There’s something I’m now bound to accept
That January never leaves.

Tuesday, November 13, 2012


Love. Such a strong emotional state that can overpower every pore and the very core of the being. Though it is Diwali today, I can't not discuss the meaning and influence of love on me, especially because I've just watched the biggest tribute to love - Jab Tak Hai Jaan.

Technically labelled Yash Chopra's swansong, it is truly what one would call, 'saving the best for last.' Being a huge fan of his treatment of romance [and who wouldn't be? He isn't called the King of Romance for nothing!], the waterworks began as soon as the first still with the Yash Raj Films logo was shown. Knowing this was going to be the most important film to me because it was the maestro's last, I watched the film in awe of his craftsmanship. But little did I know that I would find glimpses of things and moments I've known and felt. The unique thing about love is the intense commonality of its experience. Even if we are, or claim to be, the "instant make-out, instant break-up generation", our hearts still reverberate with that old world, Yash Raj-type romantic notions. I know mine does.

Right from the idea of love being above faith, the challenges of fate, and the moments the characters lose in their absences from each other, as an audience and as a human being, I connect with all of that. But the thing that struck me the hardest was a dialogue, uttered by Rishi Kapoor. He says "Har ishq ka ek waqt hota hai. Woh humara waqt nahin tha. Par iska matlab yeh nahin ki woh ishq nahin tha..." And he's right. I would rather not go into why I think so and what makes that statement so meaningful and profound to me but I know that everyone has a connect with that statement.

The best possible description I can find for love is that its a maddening process. Its not love if it doesn't drive you crazy. Its not love if it doesn't make you link everything up to that one person. I mean, love is poetic, magical, inspiring, fearful, scary, scarring and the most hurtful state. But at the same time, it is beautiful and grows more and more so with each tear shed in their name and each pang of pain borne for them. The day we fall in love is the day we are truly born. So says the movie, and so I believe and endorse. 

What also holds true for love, for me at least, is that it comes with no quotas. You can fall in love more than just once. You can be the love of more than one person [if you're lucky and if you're Major Samar Anand]. But its that one person who leaves you senseless that is truly the one you love most. Reiterating a dialogue from Dil Chahta Hai, "pyaar soch samajh kar nahin kiya jaata. Bas ho jaata hai."

Some of us are with that person. Some of us are still searching. Some of us are stuck in limbo, between with and without, between faith and doubt, between yes and no and between life and oblivion. For all three of our kinds, I say, hold on. Just keep holding on. Love is for all. And its all for the taking. And love is eternal and doesn't ever fade, it just takes new shapes. And for all of this enlightenment, I have only Yashji to thank, forever and ever. He will remain in our hearts, Jab Tak Hai Jaan.

Monday, November 5, 2012


The pain ceases to exist
but the scars remain.
They remain as reminders,
as indicators, as markers.
And if as none of these,
As memories of the pain
that ceases to exist,
Though the scars stay.

The scars fade away,
Surely but slowly, with time.
If not from life, from sight.
And if not from sight, from memory.
But they fade,
Slowly and surely, with time.

Time and again,
painful scars come and go.
As life goes on -
painfully, slowly, hurtfully - 
People places and things
come and go,
Leaving painful scars
on the ever-healing soul.
As they all, eventually,
Surely, slowly,
Fade away.

Sunday, October 14, 2012


Breathing embers
Flaring tempers
Spitfire, seethe
Now stop a minute,
Just breathe.

Glowing embers
Rise and simmer
Ignite, sift
Now rewind
And relive.

Saturday, October 13, 2012


The most fascinating game of life is that of love. And the most fascinating game on a Windows OS is that of Minesweeper. And strangely, they're both related. Not in the rather obvious manner that they are both fascinating and that i may love Minesweeper, but in a much deeper manner of philosophy.

Talking to a senior of mine, Sugandha, brought us to discuss the most popular topic in a girls' college - boys/men. We discussed how we only know boys and that there are no men left for poor single girls to date etc etc. Meandering around this territory we discussed movie characters who make us weak in our knees and make us want to date them. Her contention was that we have no hope of finding such men in our country. I, having had the privilege and the pain of knowing men who come close enough, obviously disagreed. But then, we both concurred that even if we do find men like them, they're always flawed and that ruins everything. They're inherently insensitive or just pathetic and that kills the whole aura. And just when we're sp close to ideal...bam! Gone! Just like that. And it struck me then - isn't that exactly how Minesweeper works?

Well, you try making points by avoiding the bombs and just when you get a huge area and you move to the next measley tile, boom! Dead. Over. Finito. That's how finding the perfect guy works doesn't it? You get close, you think you've struck gold when suddenly it all disappears, leaving you to blame leprechauns, fate, false expectations, And finally, men. Agreed that the arena of Minesweeper can be conquered with practice, but who is to say that one cannot discover that technique with men? Agreed you safeguard your position for life and make sure you've marked off all the mine areas with no apparent victory at hand, but at least you've moved through it unhurt! And who knows, maybe that smiley face on top becomes a permanent feature with an actual prize to get at the end!

So maybe we've not reached there yet. Um, hello captain obvious. But at least we know the way there. Or we can find it if we try. Maybe all games do have a lifetime and lifestyle value add after all.. :)

Tuesday, October 2, 2012


“I wait in anticipation for streams to gush
And for every day to be flooded by you
I sit, impatiently, for you to shower
All your love and care like you do.”

“You make me sound like the elusive rain
Like a monsoon evading the land
As if I approach and then slip away
Like the ungrounded, shifty sand.”

“I long to bask in your sweet embrace
And to soak in every trouble you’ve got
I long to tan in the shades of affection
To shine like each of your thoughts”

“You make me sound like the crackling heat
Of a summer that scorches the shore
As if I change all snows to rivers
that flow to the ocean’s core.”

“I wish to fall, as free as a leaf,
In your love, each and every day
And when dusk comes, I’ll float elsewhere
Drifting with the breeze coming your way.”

“You make me sound like the fiery autumn
That changes the way the world looks
As I master your every direction
With a fairytale charm, of books.”

“You make want to cling to every fibre
Of warmth, when you’re distant and cold
It makes me wonder how far the days are
Of love- laden of gold?”

“You make me sound like the harshest of winters
That makes even the strongest beast cower
As I move from place to place
Leaving you colder by the hour.

"You make me sound like the many seasons
That our lovely love has lasted through
And now I know, the one the holds us together
Is the humble and earthy you.
Because no matter where I go in my life
The streets of whichever land I roam
to me you are my only reason,
and the only place I call home.”

(A special thanks to Mr.J for sparking this. Inspiration can indeed be found in anything)

Friday, August 17, 2012

Freedom On A String

"Any plans for the day?"
"we have all the equipment, lets fly kites!"
"Who flies kites on Independence Day?"
"Just about everyone! Its a symbol of freedom, and all that."
"Yeah, Freedom On A String. Makes so much sense!"

"How was the day?"
"Went well. Did you watch the bhaiyajis flying kites outside?"
"Yeah! they looked so cute!"

These two excerpts of conversation made me think. A lot. About a simple idea to fly kites on Independence Day, every year. And it apparently symbolises freedom. But is it just me, or does anyone else see what our definition of freedom has manifested itself into?

Call it over-analysis, but when I think of freedom, I think of a boundless, seamless entity that strengthens our every impulse and fuels our every desire. But when I think of kites, I only see a manipulated structure, based on the whim of one person, and vulnerable to the harm caused by so many others just like it. How can these two concepts merge to celebrate the INDEPENDENCE of a country?

It only leads me to further questioning about our identity and our stance as a nation. Are we strong in our impulse, fueled by our desire, and yet held back by the whims of a manipulative force? And even if our every movement is controlled and structuralised, how are we still so vulnerable to any external harm? Is our love for freedom detrimental to us, hence the need for a structure to control it, or is our control detrimental to our own flight of freedom, that we cannot fully experience?

These are questions I cannot answer, because these pertain to a country of 1.2 billion people, and I am just one individual among so many. And I have yet to experience enough to even think of answers. But I can raise these questions, in hope of answers.

These questions on a nation's stance also make me question individuals in relation to the same concepts that are being used to commemorate a nation's independence. We as people are granted free will. We have the power to go beyond who we are today. We have the means, the desire, the drive, the passion, the freedom! And yet we succumb to the tugs and leeway of the strings that tie us down. These strings could be just about anything. Hell, the kite could be just about anything or anyone! Are we, as people, despite our individualism, and our free will, and all our rights and duties and everything in place, bound by our own strings, regardless of how high we soar or how far we fly? I guess so. But cut the string, and we land flat on our faces, with nothing to lift us again. So we are free, to go as high as we like, touch each milestone we wish to, and dodge our vulnerabilities, only because of the strings that tie us down, and have our back [literally].

This further takes me to a movie I watched a year so ago - Up In The Air [dir. Jason Reitman of Juno]. George Clooney, who plays the central character, is also a motivational speaker who talks about shedding emotional and material baggage. His talk session is called "What's in your backpack?" and he also asks people to let go of the baggage that builds up due to our familial ties and our relationships with other people. [Spoiler Alert] But when he achieves what he wished to, all the way up in the air, his joy falls flat on its face because he has no emotional connect with anyone to be able to share it with them. At the end of the day, or at least this is what I took away from the movie, we need our relationships to keep us afloat. Just like the kite that stays in the air thanks to the string that controls it.

And lastly, I come back to where I began - nations. Maybe it is true. Maybe we can be free because of the strings that hold our nation - the government, the constitution, our cultural heritage, our traditional [and sometimes redundant] values and the feelings of patriotism. Maybe we need that manipulative check on our impulses, to keep us from being eliminated by another nation. And Maybe, just maybe, I will fly kites on 15th August next year..


Sunday, August 5, 2012

I raise my glass

There's enough posts in cyberspace today to describe Friendship Day. Though two people may more often than not express the same sentiments in different ways, the need to express doesn't die and sometimes all the expression in the world doesn't quite match up to the stimulus. This day is one of those stimuli.

They say friends are special and rare, but I somehow have friends everywhere! Its probably because over the years, I have cracked some diamond mine situations that left me rich and replete with this wealth of people.

First off: school. Every year was a new batch of friends and this coupled with the old ones was a happy havoc. Even today, regardless of where they are, how senior or junior they were to me, and how much we speak through the year, the fact that we got each other through the school times is enough to sustain our friendship.

College: its only been a year but my circle of love, as it were, was only further extended with the crazy amount of people I've met! Some of them like me, like people I've known, but so many of them so unlike anyone I ever valued the way I value them today. A lot of water has passed under the bridge and some turbulence has changed things. But despite all of it we still see each other and smile. And that is the maturity that we've gained over the years. I've also moved away from home and I have a group of friends who I can now only see once in 6 months. But one message, one phone call and one small word and we can cross borders to see each other and be there for each other. I don't talk to some of them through the year. But the second i know that none but them can help me or be there for me, i call and we pick up where we left off. To them I owe my life. They know who they are.

Events: I travel enough to various events and I meet a varied set of people who have changed me beyond what i could accomplish by myself. Some stayed in touch, some didn't. But they're friends too. Purely because they created a pace for themselves even if it was within 5 days of our meeting.

Life: neighbours, family friends and people who you just meet. I have a lot of these friends who can't be categorized. And they're people who've been around forever and a day. To them I owe my life because they stuck around. They smiled and listened when I blabber my mouth off! They told me their stories that they've never told anyone. They know me outside in and we go beyond simple things like talking and messaging. These are people who've touched my life beyond anyone else's touch. I won't name them. They know who they are. And their smiles are probably the broadest right now because they're probably going "and there she goes again..."

The reason why i write this is because i know that i value my friends beyond all else. Probably why romantic love eludes me because i have all the love i need! I've just found two friends who've been away for 10 years and yet I feel friends fade away today, despite how long they've been around. Reminding me thus that this too can be terminated. This too is not forever. But while it lasts and while it exists, eternities feel like a small time frame to fill. And to that I raise my glass - the void that engulfs all life and the flood that breaks through all barriers. Those that have been cemented and those that are in shambles. That which is preserved and that which is lost. That which lasts beyond death and that which can kill the living. I raise my glass to friendship.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012


The first time I'm publishing Hindi poetry with this much abandon.

Ek raat aisi bhi ho
Jab ho bas khud se baat
Ek raat aisi bhi ho
Jab na mile chaand taaron ka saath

Ho raat aisi bhi
Jab na maange hum kisi ka haath
Ho raat aisi bhi
Jab ho na tanhaiyon se mulakaat

Na khwahishen ho dil mein
Na rukawat manzil mein
Kaash na kehna ko bas mein
Mithas na rahe ras mein

Na soch tumhari
Na Sahara tumhara
Na khoj kinare ki
Na mile raasta tumhara

Raat aisi ho agar
Khush rahenge, magar
Yeh raat beetegi kaise?
Raat beete bhi toh kaise?

Monday, July 2, 2012

Autumn Love

Times like these are oh-so rare
when precious emotions bloom
amid winds of decay and loss.
Times like these are times we share
when we'll upset the gloom
and move beyond to the pure over the dross.

Seasons can alter their course, if they will,
I'm willing to make rules bend
for this time could not be more apt
to make a beginning, in a season of ends.

There are storms ahead, guaranteed.
There are harsh breezes to shake our ground
but we shall withstand it all, I believe.
Winter's white blood shall bleed
the air shall come alive with Spring and Summer sounds,
and thus we return to our season of falling Autumn leaves.

Seasons can try to uproot us, if they wish,
But know, that I will not relent
for we'll remain strong, as we were when we
made a beginning, in a season of ends.

Friday, June 15, 2012


Like a flower in a summer breeze
Beauteous in its evergreen glory
yet unreservedly expressive
shielding, perhaps, from the wind its purity.

Like a snowfall out of the sky
gentle, tempting, blissfully
creating a world of its own.
Waiting to be the cause of glee.

Like a fire of low embers
Only too restless to be gone.
Heaving, breathing, living, believing,
Illuminating and warming, on and on.

Like the air all around -
Simple, untouched, profound.
Like shooting stars zooming across.
Like a soaring albatross.
Elevated like a mountain
yet grounded like the plains,
So unawares of power.
Like a breeze-blown flower.

Sunday, June 10, 2012


Is there a means more vocal than words? Can silence fill every void that wordlessness creates? I doubt it. There is a reason why we were able to develop speech and use it to communicate with, and not deny ourselves that power by employing silence. Because honestly, if silence were a more powerful, more poignant, more effective way of saying things, even animal sounds would be rendered redundant. Words and letters and syllables and sounds and voices and tones and sentences and strings of symbols that can be read and made sense with, are actually things that matter and count for much more than what a few moments of silence or the abstinence from communication can ever do.

Now this epiphanic outburst, as I like to term this piece, is a result of the combined action of multiple things that have happened in the span of the last 7 hours - I was denied my booking and thus denied from watching Madagascar 3, which led to a failed attempt at driving practice [not a crash, but a lack of volition], combined with watching "Extremely Loud And Incredibly Close" [watch it, please] and "The Terminal" and just the crazy weather and the idea of it being a Sunday with a whirlwind of a week ahead of me. Now, the movies actually triggered most of it off. Movies where characters couldn't communicate or didn't want to or had chosen to abandon their ability to verbally express in return for a lifetime of silent and inward discovery. Movies where all the characters wanted was to be heard, to be understood, to be spoken to like they were understood, to understand, to process verbal messages, to give voice to their thoughts and to bring out the voices of those who had been put on 'mute' for a really long time. The weather gave more room for gloom and barely any for any kind of sunshine or starlight to peek through, as if a bright idea or a brilliant thought was clouded over by the inability or lack of volition to let it out. The idea of a lull day before a stormy week constricted the spaces within me to even bring myself to say how it made me feel. The silence gnawed at me from within and it was happening to people around me too, except when the time, place, opportunity and words came to express ourselves, there was a wordless void. All we wanted was to scream [at least I did] and yet there was not a squeak we could let out. A simple hug and a shared cup of tea was all we could manage.

Silence is so devastating. I don't remember when this was, but I was in a workshop once and we were all asked to use a word, one by one, to describe silence and what it meant to us. I said, "destructive". Now, my reasons then were different from what they are now. Purely because the rounded mature understanding I have of that word today and how silence destroys in my life, was lacking a couple of years back. A point came, in the course of the time that has just gone by in my life, where I was able to manifest a bit of this tumultuous state I was in and still am in. I could do so by opining about the movies. And I burst. I couldn't hold back on every emotion I was feeling and let it all out - word for word.

I felt a sense of relief and yet a greater sense of confusion that I was unable to make do with body language, a language that goes beyond the spoken word. I felt inadequate in my ability to express, and yet whole in my expression because I had just realised what words meant. Not their dictionary meanings or their implications, but just the use of them. I thought back to Tom Hanks in The Terminal [the first hour of, mind you]. If only he could have made more sense to the people he was surrounded by. If only he had the power of words, the power to question what he was going through. He could speak alright, but not alright enough to be heard or to even be taken notice of. Was there no one who could, even if for a moment, comprehend what he was trying to get across and hopefully give him some relief, instead of making a mockery out of him by showing their helplessness and eye him through a camera, speechless enough to be unable to comfort a man in a pathetic situation? I thought back to The Rentor in Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. He wouldn't speak out of choice or the effect of a psychological trauma. But were there not more than a moment and a half where he could just bellow out every single thing he had been trying to give voice to for years on end, instead of restricting himself to the use of paper and pen? And I thought back to moments in my life and the moments in other's lives that I have known of or witnessed. Was there no way that there was nothing we had to say when we had the chances, the ability and the need for it? What stopped us then and what stops us now?

I question all of us, as people, today. Does silence do us any good? Because if it does, why is the sound of every key I punch on this keyboard so comforting to me? If it does, why have we graduated from silent movies to talkies? And if it still does, why were we ever meant to speak at all?

Wednesday, June 6, 2012


Yes, I'm fat, I'll admit it,
but I let myself be beyond my body.
And I can feel your stares, like a chill down my back
As you eye every morsel I eat.

"Don't eat that!" "Don't pile on the fat!"
Is that envy in your eyes, that I see?
Because you're honestly only making it worse
The second you caution me.
Some say it out of love,
and others out of disgust and spite
but to it sounds all the same.

Don't you think I've tried?

I've tried to treat every thing I eat
like dirt, and suffered still.
I've tried not to poison my blood stream
with drinks, against my will.
I've tried to hear you patiently,
I've tried not to hear you at all,
And yet I disappoint you
every minute, every hour.
but don't you see? your words to me
turn every sweet thing sour.
Your thoughts on this and that which I eat
or drink, and how I should watch my weight
Make me believe there's nothing beyond my figure,
Which I know isn't great.

But consider this, have you ever
seen me glum after a good meal?
Or can't you simply spare a thought
for how hurt you make me feel,
When you curse my food right before I eat?
And consider this, that all these years
of being fat, must've made me hate it too
That despite my every attempt at
losing weight, it all falls through?
So stop and think, if you were me
and were held in contempt for what you choose,
Would you take it lying down
or just simply refuse?
Because honestly, I love my food.
I know my limits, though I look like I don't.
Your frowns only keep me from being
healthy and happy and shining and smiling, and being so much more
of the girl you think you've known.
And I've grown, literally, but it doesn't bother me
Yes, I'm fat, I admit it,
But please, like me, let me be beyond my body?

Saturday, May 12, 2012

Post Birthday Post

Usually, I have something to say when I legitimately turn a year older. But this time, because this birthday came with a really "out of my ordinary" circumstances, I decided to wait and watch and see what one day of being older has to teach me. Yes, I know 19 doesn't have a special charm attached to it but this year was different. I was away from home, writing an exam, and had a whole different set of people around me. And coolly enough, in 24 hours I figured out quite a few things that I've known but I've finally had the capacity to acknowledge. And cliche as it is, I have decided to populate a list of 19 things that enriched my ageing experience and proved to me that I grew and didn't just get a year older.

So here it goes, my list of 19 learnings at 19 years:

1. There is one relationship based on very little that means a lot - friendship. Its above everything. And everyone.

2. There are relationships that take a lot to make and snap with the smallest things - couples.

3. There's nothing a hug can't fix.

4. People change. You do too if someone else does.

5. Just because it didn't work for you, doesn't mean someone else doesn't have a shot.

6. There's a family everywhere you look. But its all because of that one family of yours that you can make connections wherever you go.

7. Education is a gift. The best birthday gift is knowing that there's another day/week/month/year of school or college to look forward to.

8. Thank the stars and people like Mark Zuckerberg and Eduardo Saverin etc who invented a portal like Facebook. It shows that even if out of a compulsive reminder, someone took 2 minutes out to wish you. Don't denounce it.

9. There's people who want to love you. There's people who don't. There's people who care and people who don't. Recognize the differences.

10. Loss happens. Lost opportunity, lost love, lost money. Whatever. Be glad you know what you had so you can feel its loss. Trust me, a lot of people can't.

11. Trust is the key. Enough said.

12. There's nightmarish moments you've imagined happening to you. Breaking news, they will happen. And you won't be ready. All the best for the aftermath.

13. There's things you can't control. That's a good thing.

14. If there's something you want to do, do it. There's no bigger happiness than knowing you had the agency to decide on something and actually see it through.

15. Eat all you want. As long as you're happy with it, it won't pile any weight on. And if it does, don't be afraid to say its because of food that you were happy because of.

16. If there's something you couldn't do today, hope that you can do it tomorrow. If it was worth doing, you'll get it done.

17. Everything can't be perfect. And shouldn't be. There won't be anything to want.

18. If someone says they're there for you, believe them only when you know you can make them believe you when you say it.

19. Sorry isn't a bad word. Some just don't have the nerve to say it. Just hope to God that when the time comes, you don't lose that nerve.


Sunday, April 15, 2012


He didn't just break her heart,
He broke her spirit
And in the bargain he lost
That chirpy girl he once knew.

He didn't just play with her emotions
He played her mind
And as a trophy he won happiness
And lost her trust.

He didn't just hurt her feelings
He hurt her soul
And in the process he lost
Little things she did to make him smile.

He made her cry
and made her doubt herself
And in doing so he lost
The little confidence she had in who he could be and who he was.

He lost her love
And her overall
And through all this, she only thought
Of what she would lose or miss.

Monday, April 2, 2012

Something Missing

There comes that time in life when you feel like sitting on deck-chair with a cool drink in your hand, watching the sunset restore calm in the world and your life. That time usually comes when you've got everything you ever asked for. Everything you ever dreamed of has been achieved and now you can relax. But wait, this perfect picture has something missing and you can't for the life of you put a finger on it. Drat.

Sadly, I am in that place right about now. I've actuy been able to tick off almost all the items on my checklist. Feels great! And then a moment comes towards the end of the day where all I am thinking about is - what's missing? Something is not right. This moment is incomplete. What completes it? Honest answer? I don't know.

Its a feeling that gnaws on my insides every single day and the worst bit is how in the world am I supposed to quit wanting beyond the happiness? Its not pretty. Its not good. And its definitely not what I want to go through. I don't want to negate the happiness I have already. But its all incomplete.

But it dawns on me at the exact same time that maybe being incomplete is kind of the point of life. Its something close to what they taught us in economics - the theory of fiscal deficits. It says that its always good to have a deficit in the debit and credit of an economy to facilitate development otherwise in a balanced situation the economy stands to stagnate. Assuredly, life is like that. If I have nothing to dream about, nothing to fight for and nothing to miss, I won't ever grow out of what I am right now. Perhaps I'll develop a new side to me in trying to find what's missing. And with a little bit of time, luck and help from people who love me, I might just someday complete this jigsaw puzzle that I've been working on. And that day, the picture will be pretty again and the sunset will restore calm as imagined.


Friday, March 30, 2012

Well Worded?

Your words defined some
and defiled others. They questioned,
They answered, and debated.
But they never stopped.

You string long sentences with words
As if you could fit all you felt
Into sentences.
And you use your muse -
Word after word.

I watched and wondered
About how our lives were so planned
And then you used words
That i did not understand.

If only we lived wordlessly. But that would not do.
I would not feel my words turn into you,
But this is all i can give or do.
Because my words were never a match for you.

You will just smile and say how
Charming you find my sentences
and how beautifully put together my words are.
For you, i am expressive, impressive, moving, touching, random, fantastic and so out of this world
and seldom something else.

For me, you're now nothing more than a string of words.

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Distant Dreams

Those were days that are now distant dreams
Dreams that were once so real
that we lived them -
every day, every hour, every waking minute
of blissful togetherness.

Those were days where the self
could not possibly mean something greater
than someone else -
someone we loved, cherished, protected
and somehow understood.

Those were days where we listened
not just heard each other through our ears
but opened our hearts -
souls connecting, communicating, merging
into one bond.

Those were days, but this is the life
that we lead now, and have moved
past dreams that were once ours -
wholly, holy, now ungodly
for they were just dreams.

Reality can never live up to what we have dreamed of.
It only looks at our dreams and somehow manages to scoff.


Power limitless, power unbound,
Unchained, unharnessed,
Power profound.
Power to show, power to see,
Growing, flowing,
Powerful entity.

Light for countless, light for all,
Supreme, extreme,
Rise and fall.
Power revered, a powerful fall,
Unquestioned, unmoved,
Power at all?

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Imperfect Disguise

Always was a somebody
A person that wasn't me
A new countenance over my own
To hide what they shouldn't see.

I marveled at my skill to transform
My art of disappearing behind layers
Oh, the satisfaction of it all
To play among greater players.

Barring from sight all that i was
All that i stood for thus far
Only to take on a colour of what i saw
Fool-proof fool-hardy camouflage.

I thought i was secure
Safe, in my shrouded identity
But someone saw the ugly side
Someone did surely see.

His gaze tore through the layers
The years of error and lies
But it wasn't me he scorned
It was my pretence he despised.

I tried my best to trick his mind
With artless disguise upon disguise
I remain imperfect, forevermore
In his soul searing eyes.

Friday, March 9, 2012


For her self pride and a bit of dignity,
she refuses to let her emotions flow.
But deep down, she only cries
for she is afraid to let go.
There are moments and memories
that shroud the pain and the sorrow.
And only to reclaim what is seemingly lost
she refuses to let go.

She dons that dress over and over,
fixes her hair just right,
loose, over one shoulder it spreads,
and not in a ponytail tight.
For that's how she remembers him liking it
and that's all the love he had to show
and for that love, just that much
she refuses to let go.

One day he remarked on the colour he liked.
Even though he in passing did so,
she holds that colour dear to her heart
and uses it more than before.
 For she loved to see his face light up
Every time in her outfit the colour did show
for that ounce of rather casual love
she dared not let go.

She knows they are bound on separate roads
And to her reach his love will not grow
The pain has not wholly sunk in
Her realisation is rather slow
But for the times they shared, for the little that he cared
and for the fact that he always let her know,
she'll hold onto the friend she's bound to lose
and she'd rather no let go.

[Title suggestions welcome]

Friday, January 13, 2012

Fear Of The End

[This is rather long, so please bear with me. If you're tagged, you're meant to read this. If you're not tagged and you've read this, know that the fact that its as public as it is on facebook, you mean something to me and hence you can read it for yourself too. love =) ]

Much has gone down over the last few years. Life, death, and a lot in between. And this very "eventful" last year has left me with a niggling fear instead of a glowing hope. The fear of death.

A couple of my friends know about this, because they're the friends I'm scared to lose. The fact that I've decided to put this out in cyberspace is possibly the most vulnerable I've ever been in my writing. And this decision arises plainly out of the basic premise of my fear.

"And if your plane fell out of the skies, who would you call with your last goodbye?" These lyrics by The Script are what started it a couple of years ago. No, it didn't scare me shitless about flights but it scared me down to my core about dying an untimely death. And this is my major fear - the fear of dying most unexpectedly. A lot of movies supported this. A lot of books added to it. A lot of real life made it concrete - anything can happen and it'll happen when I'm least ready for it.

I live away from my home now. I only go back once in 2 or 3 months and stay only for about 2 weeks at the max. When I'm away from them my only scare is whether I told thme emough that I love them? Did I fight with them too much? Did I make the most of the time I had? And what if I don't survive by the time its time again to meet them?

When I'm with my friends who, like me, are away to study, hugs get a few seconds longer, togetherness becomes paramount and I don't even mind travelling for a whole day just to see 5 people for 25 minutes. But every time I leave, I look back to see them one more time because that may be the only time I may ever get. Maybe one more memory will be made that I'll never get to share.

My street play director, Devika, says "Make memories guys! I'm going to pass out!" We may just meet after she graduates but this also might be the only time we get to know each other, or for that matter, everyone else on the street play cast. All my classmates, especially Adrita, Turni, Yashaswini, Nishtha, Aashita, Chiara, Pallavi and my hostel friends, Avanika, Arpita, Moitryee, Vrinda, Prashanti, Sareba, Roshini, Anagha, Tanya, and my friends in the other section, Raksha, Arunima, and other courses of the college, and almost about everyone else. I may not meet them again because I'll be gone one fine day. My teachers, from nursery to college, from Bangalore to Bombay to Delhi. My seniors. My juniors. The support staff at every institution I've been to. I've entered so many domains that I'm lucky to have seen in such a short time, but instead of being just plain thankful, I'm only fearinga  death that is knocking on my mind's door.

I think of people who've touched my life. Ateev, Aeiman, Karan, Aditi, Parth, Tejaswini, Malvika, Tarika, Tanushree, Mugdha, Megha, Bubla, Bhargavi, Vikrant, Ajit, Sach, Archit, Ruchira, Dhrupad, Kritank, Shrey, Rushil, Deepika, Jade Miss, Sultan sir, Jayshree ma'am, and a couple of people from the list above. I think of the fall outs I've had with some of them that have ended the short stints of our friendships. I am saddened by that because I will have died not having fixed something that was ruined. I think of some of the best memories I've shared with any one and everyone of them. I want to just tell them that I love them and care for them with all my heart and I wish them well with their long and fulfilling lives. I revere and respect some of them and all of them on various levels. I'm glad that I could feature in their lives and they could make up huge chapters in mine. If this is the last thing I ever write of such a nature, I hope they'll all read it and know just how much I thank them for their contributions to my life.

And then, finally, I think of my writing. I've shared quite a bit of what I've written and I've poured my heart out [evidently]. Some of it is still undiscovered. I wish I could write more and as much as I can before I die. Its equitable to the amount of love I still have to give. I wish I could just give it all in one shot, but that takes time. I wish for my epitaph to read, "The best never came." Not arrogantly, but apologetically so, because no matter how open-headed I am when it comes to expression, I can never fully give every inch of my being and my thinking. 

At the end of it all, if I go tomorrow, I'm just glad I could get this out today. And if I don't, I'll read this everyday till the end comes and answers my fears as positively as can be. This piece was not written to garner any kind of sympathy or any consolation, or seek any sort of attention. This is just me, holding up my biggest fear in front of me and hoping to do everything I can before it gets to me.

Weird World

My friend's status read "its you against the world and all of its weird ways. Always." Not only did his words ring true with each syllable i read but it reminded me of all the weirdness in my world. A lot of it is secret, some of it is not worth discussing and all of it is thought provoking. Not all weirdness is cherishable. I can look back fondly at classroom jokes and random dancing on the lamest song possible and smile. Some of my friends are the kings and queens of weird and their quirks crack me up and make me miss them at every random instance. But some things don't quite click. Some weird things only irk and bother me. And for those i am sad. I mourn the loss of the frivolous and innocent notions of weirdness.

There are people who will tell you that more often than not, action and intention are separate entities. They are meant to be treated and understood independent of each other. But when it comes to the weirdness of the world we live in, or the world we create for ourselves, action and intention are merged. You can never tell them apart. It'll tear you up trying to make the distinctions but you'd rather lose your sanity than lose your joy trying to set apart two things that were one to begin with. You want to find the good in it. You can't. You want to stake claims, blame who's wrong and preserve what's right. But what is it worth in the end? You against the world is still the equation. No possible addition, deletion, exemption or redemption can change that. Its you. On your own. Its never pretty. Never easy. But you'd rather be that than be the weirdness that can change all equations and reduce you to a delirium that is unending. 

My friend is right. This is always.