My Bad

Doing things when sane, when high, when stoned, being what I am in that moment, too spontaneous, making you so uncomfortable with my tongue, that I’m considered too bold for your taste. You love me. You would love to hate me.Ā 

I already said something. Again.


Psst: Don’t you wish, you could be like that?
Be yourself that is, with unadulterated truth.

When you get more than you wish for

It is wonderful how we keep evolving. One of the most beautiful thing: evolving.

Back in late teens, when there was this fairy tale idea about love, when the mind was forever confused, where you said yes to a person/something just because that person wanted you to, or your best friend did a soul searching crap. Where the mind was so unsure of saying yes to what you actually wanted but instead ended up saying yes to things which were sugar coated and unreal, to things which seemed to right to the third person not you. Staying in something because the other was sure that it will work even when you kicked inside to get out of it. But, you stayed.

Evolution brings out the ugliness of that sugar coated love.

Independent mind.

You know, the best thing about flights? Take off.

It slowly steers towards the runway. A powerful wooshing sound and then it runs with such powerful force that you are pushed back on your seat. That energy is mind blowing. It bubbles something inside that red pumping thingy inside my chest, which I tag as euphoria. This is exactly how evolution feels. From dependence to one independent mind.

Where I say no because I didn’t want it. Where I say yes, because I honestly wanted it. Where I decide without crappy unasked advices. Where I choose what I want to believe in and what to discard. Where I do not ask if I should or shouldn’t to those sugar coated jackasses when I want to do something and instead I just do it. Where I only say things when I mean it and do not see the need to sugar coat it. Where I despise reasons and no more scared about what you’ll think when I say that. Where I refuse to give explanations unless necessary. Where I make my decisions.

Independent mind.

I am obsessed with the whole independence idea.

It is the best thing that ever happened to me. More than I wish for part: My baggage – Chennai. But hey, I am out of a box! Probably I’m romanticizing with this idea because I imagine I feel suffocation. Part of evolution: getting out of comfort zone.

She warned me again when I visited her recently. She discarded many of my ideas. Her reason: None. I’ll learn in time. (She is awesome!)

And then, the most wonderful thing happened. When coming back home via flight, starting from take off to in flight mode I realized life is just the same as from that Point A period to Point B period: There is that powerful force, energy full of excitement, you’ll climb higher and higher. The elevation will be bit uncomfortable, past fading away, some a bit painful. Then comes the cloud of forgotten fading memories and then finally the stable flight with slight turbulence now and then. Depending on clouds.

It’s wings were my wings.

That made me look forward to everything.

Whats with those couples? Trying to hook single people every time! Every boy I am with is my guy? Kya yaar? Arey, I do not want your misery! I am euphoric! Very very euphoric! Single hood is THE best thing ever happened to me! This is where the independent mind started. Iyam very very free. That last one was like a fucking cage where I had to sing like that emperor’s nightingale. Why do you want to mess with me ya!? I’ll tell you when I find a real man. Man I say, “Man”. Not one of those crying, PMSing, complaining, sensitive, going and crying to mama/girlfraand (when I upset them :D) boys. Booyaaaiss.

Ms. Wobbly Feet

One of my fondest memory, which struck me suddenly:
How Ms. Wobbly Feet got into perfect control of sane sense when the elders were right in front of my face. All I had to do was, shut my mouth, tie my hair and not giggle.
Hey, I miss you Mr. Darling Tornado! :*

The day I got to know how “light” I am. And literally. Twice. Ha. For someone who loves chocolate, butter and cheese, insult me more?

My Dearest Loved Dove, you were really patient and awesome! :*
And that Dickhead responsible for this (Bottoms up!! Cheers. Said who?), you are sucha dickhead for shaking me head till I lost my “balance”. But you are awesome. šŸ™‚
Dove’s sister, you were the only one who scared the shit out of me ever by your suggested Madonna-Britney experiment.You are Mhashe. šŸ˜›
Dove’s cousin, you were the red batak*.
And the Budday booaay, thank you for that day.

Yea, I “miss” that crazy day.

A Suicidal Failure

The sharp blade grazed her wrist leaving a thin red line. There were no thoughts, but just a heavy feeling of failure. The burden was so heavy that her heart just sunk into low beats. Thick drops of tears fell on her lap. Her head bent on the table, suddenly a thought flicked in her head, “One less of a burden.”

The pressure increased a bit. This time a thin line of blood trickled down. Her vision blurred by her tears, while the blade continued to graze her wrist with the newly added pressure like a loop. Another thought, “They are not going to be proud of you. Ever.” And the blade suddenly made an almost deep cut. A jolt of reality, and the blade slipped out of her fingers and fell on the ground. “I’m such a coward”, she thought.

She glanced at her wrist. Pattern of thin, red slashes. She picked up the blade again, but the moment was gone.
What was done, was done. Now, what next? Probably those pair of thick bangles given by her friend will hide it? And it worked well. So she thought.

The friend was not fooled. She noticed it, and she was questioned. And questioned with a mad rage, to which she replied, “I had just given up. A coward doesn’t live.”

To which she spat, “Coward? You would have been one if you would have cut deep. Coward you say?

It’s all just a reason for not facing the situation and taking the full responsibility. What were you thinking? What, your score didn’t stand up to your standards? I know, this was not the reason, taste my sarcasm honey, keep up. Is your life so insignificant that you are so dramatically signifying your problem with those slashes? How stupid can you get?

Yes, I am embarrassing you. You ought to be embarrassed!”

The rest of the walk was in silence. Her message was loud and clear: Stand up and fight back. Get out of the monotone of the depressed voice in head and think out of the box.

Cliched you will say.

Years passed by. And she was surprised how all these failures, heart breaks, pain, hurt, et cetra had actually made her strong. Bit pretended devoid of emotions, but strong. ‘The End’ was never again the solution to a concluded dead end. The spine was strong.

And today she smiles. Hums a tune while doing the dishes (which she absolutely hates) Gives small tinkles of laughter when by herself for no reason. Every morning is beautiful than ever. Heart as light as a feather. This, she says is because she is happy and free.

Happy of that suicidal failure.

After the Rains

High on the hills of Girivan, was this little lad of about 5 year old. The brightest brown eyes, the most charming smile and his energy! Would jump in the plastic chair even when it never stopped raining.

After two and half hour of game of badminton in the constant drizzle, it finally decided to stop. The boy comes out, observing us play. He sees the puddle and he jumps in it. After all the jumping is done, he just stood there, watching us.

Cutest thing ever! I regretted forgetting to take my camera there. (Yea I was being protective about the lenses in the rain. Still, regretted.) And this was the smile he gave when I bent, moved around and did all the moves an amateur does amusing him so much that he couldn’t resist smiling. Or so I would like to believe.

The best look he had given me was, when we came back from our morning long “walk” after visiting the small waterfall/springs, he looked up at me when I was climbing down the stairs and gave the widest smile he could in return for my smile. šŸ™‚

He made up for all the continuous rains we’ve been tried of.

My Image of Perfection

She is everything I had decided to be before a certain period: She is independent, free, strong. She has her own apartment. She is a single mother with two kids. She has an awesome job. Drives her car herself around, no driver. She has the respect she deserves in her world of profession and friend circle. One time owned a small company of her own. There is lots more to her awesomeness which I refrain adding here.

She is my image of perfection.

And perfection comes with a price, always. All the struggles, slogging, frustrations, the downs with every up, the attacks to be borne alone with no shoulder support. And she has her own story.

I thought I was immature for wanting all this before I get bound. When I saw she had it, loved it, enjoyed it, I felt sound.

She warned me. I understood.
She talked about harsh realities. I understood again.
She talked about destiny and fate. I disagreed. I didn’t understand. I didn’t feel like voicing it out at that moment, because right then it was one of the most wonderful moment: getting to know.

A bittersweet life, I don’t seem to mind to have now.
Then again I’m young and headstrong. I might get all of it with much more. Including everything I blocked.

Amazing feeling to see my image in a real woman. And that it is not just an image of fantasy.


Two pitcher ofĀ Tornado. Probably three pitcher of Go To Hell.

Result: Tinnnngg!
(And some more over the days, refraining from using direct names. )

Knowing in the moment of ting that it was a whole lot of mixture of un-nameableĀ resulting in bang.

One whole week of tinngg and twaang and exhalingĀ flavoredĀ steam, which should how a girl of my age should enjoy, which is apparently being normal. But still, felt being in control is more awesome than being ting. It was hell lot of fun though with those set of people I really really realllly enjoy being. Unlike hesitating to have one glass of harmless bubbly with the person I supposedly trusted. I guess I finally understood what a good company is, even if it was in the moment of ting and one KABOOM from my end.
Going to spend next few days with clean blood andĀ unadulterated tingĀ fun.
Best vacation with horrible horrible hotness.

Finally learning to be a bit girly* and for the first time: A success with ting! šŸ˜€
*I do own a kajal, lipstick, blue nailpaint now.

So there, girly.
Guisqui, it all started with one sip.

My Happy Place

Took me two years to realize that my happy place is 980 odd kilometers away from home. And the best thing is, even if the city has changed its face in two years, I still feel it’s the same.

I met them as if we’ve been meeting everyday. Laughed like I laughed ages ago till my tummy ached. And what we were laughing on? All the silly stupid stuff we did in the past. And later again on the HP 7 part 2 for being so bollywoody. Calling Voldemort the Ghajani and Harry Potty the Rajani. Talking until late night about all the heart breaks, et all. Curse mixed name callings which ended up sounding funny however seriously I uttered, as always. The vulgarity ignored.

Something about this city makes a crazy me get out. Or probably it is the people here šŸ™‚

I just cannot stop smiling ever since I landed here. Rather, I don’t feel like I ever left this city. The pulse is still the same. Everything is the same, chemistry wise. And it is comforting. It is comforting to know that I have not lost any identity as I believed I have.

A bike ride in rain and enjoying it. Spontaneous plans. Getting hugs and they not bothering if I like it it or dislike. “What the hell, come here.” Hug with no permissions.
I’ll eventually learn again. šŸ˜€

Enjyoing my momentary indefinite plan. While it lasts.

Good to be back home and see the comforting blackish brown sand again.

Beer, Tequila, Vodka, Whiskey

Started with talking about beer bottles to preferring whiskey over vodka in drunken state and all the related karnaames with it.Ā  Then to the first time apple vodka mixed with sprite and faintly remembering talking about a guy wanting to jump off the balcony after drinking bottles of vodka with someone I honestly don’t remember. And being warned not to drink because of that incidence. Memories.

The best thing about them is they put a smile on my face. The worst thing, they sometimes make me miss someone. It is worst when I miss a person and cannot do anything at all.