Tuesday, April 15, 2014

what it means to be older and wiser.

You are presented with the same circumstance, he says a thing or two to make you happy.

You feel happy, secure. He forgets,you cry.

When your older this has happened already, you have fallen dusted off the wounds and stood up once again.

Now when he says things like ' Be free from the weekend, we need to hangout'. Temporary bouts of happiness knock your door. You feel wanted. But you don't forget that this is a big deal for you, not him. He says this to too many girls. Kisses a lot of them. Gives a lot of them that mushy feeling.

He adds you on instagram, but doesn't care about your existence. You are just somebody to him.

When your older you know to know better. Keep yourself safer. You work towards protecting yourself.

People will change the ones who you thought as your own will secretly make fun of you, even despise you.

They will come close, know all your secrets and attack the most vulnerable parts of you.

When your older, you are willing. Willing to take it all, the insults, the heartbreaks, the pain, the humiliation because you have seen it once. You have worked though it. You know your way.

You don't put yourself out there. You be your own best friend.

Because you have no body but you. You are responsible for your own well-being.

A prince charming doesn't exist. You find your own damn shoe-maker to make you glass shoes.

And love? You learn to love yourself.


Tuesday, January 21, 2014

The promise of the romantic comedy


This genre of movies has single-handedly changed the course of history in a substantial manner. 
The perfect-cheek-boned man. The one gets-you-flowers man. The one who-makes-breakfast man. The one who-holds-you-hand while crossing the road man. The one-who-pays man. The one-who-is-sensitive towards you man. The one who listens to romantic songs and thinks of you man. The one who-doesn't-break-your-heart man. The-one-who-marries-you-and-you-live-happily-ever-after man. 


Like every other love-struck cow out there i'm a sucker for this genre too. 

Why do certain us, emotionally crippled in love, engage in these delusions. 
Why do i love it when she finds her happy ending, or when he proposes, or when he looks at her like that. 
I real like love stories never really find a climax. 'True love' this concept has been fed into our system to distract from the natural course of life.

Life of pi: A guy who chooses to create Richard Parker from his imagination, weaves a fantastic story to turn a blind eye from the monster he himself became. Is life so ugly that human had to resort to delusions for solace. 

Why does a kid need to sell stuff in train simply so he could earn his meals for the day. 

What is this huge gap. 

Money=boyfriend=fancy clothes=prettiness=fancy lunches=fancy dinners=better education=cars/automobiles=LOVE

Romantic comedy type of love doesn't cater to humans

The sadness of everyday life is too much of a burden for the meek man. He lives, breathes and experiences life through his imagination,illusion. 

Sunday, January 5, 2014


I'm too obsessed with the universe and all the unsolved mysteries. Instead of thinking of my less than awesome life i prefer indulging in daydreams of romnticized theories of how maybe i am just a mirage.

Someone's imagination. A character from some book. A slower dimension of a very fast world. Or perhaps a large blob of goeey mass and bones with some kind of invisible spark which is better known as spirit.

All the things, love, sex, business, loosing-virigity, money etc seem so tiny when i think of myself in this context.

Who am i really?


Or her? 

Saturday, December 28, 2013

You are your own

“In the name of the best within you, do not sacrifice this world to those who are its worst. In the name of the values that keep you alive, do not let your vision of man be distorted by the ugly, the cowardly, the mindless in those who have never achieved his title. Do not lose your knowledge that man’s proper estate is an upright posture, an intransigent mind and a step that travels unlimited roads. Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark, in the hopeless swamps of the approximate, the not-quite, the not-yet, the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish, in lonely frustration for the life you deserved, but have never been able to reach. Check your road and the nature of your battle. The world you desired can be won, it exists, it is real, it is possible, it’s yours." | Atlas Shrugged

2013 has ended. almost. 

The year went by like water splashed on feet when entering the temple. Raw, energetic, not quite there. Still empty, even when full.
I have progressed in many ways. Days go by, weekends come, Mondays again. The same faces, the same gestures. All hollow inside. 
No i couldn't really start my business. i'll get there.  
People have taken to social media platforms to poke fun at me. My dressing sense is getting calmer i'm sensing. I don't fit in anymore. 
I haven't found love. I haven't had sex. The prospect of making the effort and loving someone is tiring. The aftermath of the relationship presents problems bigger than the apocalypse. 
I don't find sense in smoking, drinking, recreational drugs, expensive handbags, make-up. 
I like indoors, indulging in bath products, hair-products, norah jones, painting, creating and fantasizing about choti. 
I'm Anti-right. I'm me. The people who poke fun, laugh, bitch, put me down, will be. 
That boy who carries my heart in his pocket will regret losing me. 

Maybe i'm growing, becoming my own person. I may be tarnished, bruised, tested. But that won't stop me from being compassionate, calm, rested & hopeful. 

May 2014 teach me more lessons.. This time around i'm not scared. 

Crying in the office bathroom, people with the loud opinions, critics or the bullies.

Watch me. 

Friday, October 25, 2013

Where am I

Crux: The Center: The End. 

I can't believe what i have turned into. Wait actually i can. I'm letting it all happen. Everything happen to me. I have turned into a victim of my own stupid choices. I have a job. I get paid. Everyone bullies me and treats me like shit. I am letting it all happen to me like its all nothing at all. 

I have lost faith in myself. I can't see where i'm headed. I am unsure. I'm still in lust with him. I am a Second-hander. 

With no zest, no money even after earning. I really don't know what going on. It's like a haze. I'm just beding my neck and walking somewhere. Listening to people, taking everyone's shit. 

Everything is a maze. 

What i want to be?

To be left alone, to wake up to dress to choose to do. 

Am i any different from the little kid who entered first class today trying to sell diwali lanters. 


He is like me a Victim of his situation. Being born in a certain family changed everything in his life.

He is dark, tiny, puny , dirty fingers a running nose. 

He probably sleeps on the floor.
I'm Tired, dazed and lost. 

Wondering what the next big trouble will be. 

Running away is all i'm going to do. 

Saturday, September 28, 2013

that particular kind of Love

I'd like to lie next to you, and gaze into your eyes. I'd like to stare long enough to know your iris by-heart. So when i paint you, i'd know every detail. I'd like to run my fingers through your hair, ooze in your awesomness. I'd like to hold your hands. I'd like to smell your face. I'd like to cuddle into you. I'd tie some braids. Perhaps even paint your nails. You'd gaze into me too. We'd say nothing at all. Linger there in our happiness. I'd like some more kisses. The hugs to go on forever. The bonds to stay.
You'd lie next to me. Nothing goes on in your head. The pain starts brimming in me. It feels like a mermaid's silent song. The brisk touch feels nothing to you. You have become one with mud. Yet here i am, same old place as before. The price i paid for that delusion madness excrutiates me empties me every day. Yet there you are, gone in a blink of an eye. Far, Far away. On your journey,on your path. Me; Just a sweet sweet dream. And you; You are killing me.
To be held, touched and loved is a hollow dream. Oh the dreams feel empty without you. And i keep wondering always what am i to you. You'd go on. But will i ever? All i'd want to do is to look at you one more time. To believe it exists. But Alas! when will i ever relive this elaborate dream. Those sweet words were a haze, you were a haze. A beautiful story that did not exist. I'd play songs for you, soothe you and make you mine. Oh, be mine. Be all that i want you to be.Waiting for this dream to get over. Will it ever?
The hollow emptiness will consume me. You never give a damn. But, who am i to complain when you don't even know me. 

Monday, September 23, 2013

I wish i was a boy..

I really wish i was a boy sometimes.
Yes, even Beyonce thinks that-way, she's made a song about it and all!
Alas! If i was a boy i could pack my bags and just get into the next train and go someplace wonderful. Without having to worry things like periods and personal hygiene. I would simply brush my teeth at railway stations or take bath and pee and poop in public.
I could wear one pair of clothes, simply reverse my T-shirt and never give a damn. I'd see many women, i'd love so many of them. They would all want commitment. But then how can i commit, that's not what nature has evolved me for. I'm just supposed to take the warm embraces, the loving kisses, those heartfelt gazes and abandon them. Because, really there will always be another girl to fall in love with me.
I could be that bollywood Rockstar and my mama's boy, i'd party all night, sit in the VIP section and fondle as many white girls as possible. I'd then catch a girls sight and damn she would pay no heed, oh but how can she! Doesn't she know me!
I'd make her fall in love with, she cannot resist my charms, we would be all lovey-dowey in public. I'd take her to all my parties, introduce her as my girlfriend. We would have editorials dedicated to our blooming romance. This doe-eyed beauty is mine! Hah!
Well, i wouldn't be able to help it..that girl was so hot, i would have to cheat. I mean my girlfriend would understand, oh wait she will believe me. She would trust me.
I could be that guy who walk away without giving any explanation because what the hell she wouldn't sleep with me.
I could be that high-school jock at that frat party. Hey she was drunk! All i did was click pictures of her and f***** her. That cannot be rape. I would play football. The whole town would be on my side.
I could be married with small kids. Why would she need my time? What school functions? She has enough money for parlor and shopping. She would just have to shut up. She would jump off my flat with the kids. I would just have an affair. That's no reason to kill herself.
I could be that guy who would just stare at her breasts at railway station, buses, offices. Oh but then i wouldn't be able to can't help it! I would be a man!
I would try to grope as many in crowded places. Because damn, she is on the road midst so much crowd. These woman are practically asking for it.
I'd be that guy on the bus with my buddies trying to score some. After all, we work hard, toil so much. We deserve some refreshment. I'd gnaw her, bite her, grope her, rape her. I'd vandalize her in as many ways possible. I'd use an iron rod. Because she was on the road with a guy at night. She deserves this. I'd then throw her and her friend and hope they die.
I'd be arrested but what the hell, i'm a minor. I can peacefully watch television and play. They would recognize me on the outside, but in a three years time who will remember.
I would be that guy who would enjoy smoking up in the ruins on Mahalaxmi with my buddies. Hey! who cares about this fucked up world anyways. I'd tie her up and beat her friend. I'd rape her and boast about my masculinity. I'd click pictures and threaten her. She would be never open her mouth.
I would see the news and try to run. I'd be in Jail. I just raped her.
She was asking for it. She was working. I wouldn't be able to control. I'd be let of easy in a few years and put up a tea stall.

So i guess. This evolutionary game tricked us into believing women are important. We should be killed off as soon as we are born. Oh wait! so half of Indians already do that. So awesome, thank  god those female infants died. They might just get raped eventually. Or mentally torchered because clearly it is their fault they were born.

I really wish i was a boy.