Friday evening

I'm done with the work. I feel great sometimes about how I can finish off work in a jiffy, just so I can be free again. I just hope I made no mistakes.

I've had the solitude and time to ponder lately. . considering i haven't had either, since January this year - it has been a little more than difficult. I need to cut down on the smokes. Doable. I need to clean and set up my new place. Doable. I need to start living there everyday, and not try to escape. (Doable, but with more effort.) Save a little money. (Very difficult at present. Lot of pending purchases to make, etc.) Read more. Doable. Get kitchen stuff and cook at home. Doable. Forget It and Move On. Um uh.

A lot of decisions need to be taken at my end. I hope to begin somewhere, soon. I need to.

coming home ~

There's been a long long block, and i intend to (finally) blog it away. For inspiration, it took me completely polishing off two lovely blogs by 2 very nice ladies. I felt happy reading them, and remembered how soothing it felt earlier when i wrote more often. Going back to painting and sketching will take a while; there's too much of clutter in my life at present. Hope. I. Still. Do.

Lame.

At work now, and some last minute work showed up. So, I must work it off. Whiskey tonight ! hopefully with June, Jessie, Pranjal and Boruah.

Cheers to the weekend. (Although Hope. I. Must. Not.)

i see you ~

it seems like just a while ago. i'd stood bent above the railing. i could see the green grass below. . the path around it paved in stone. i was thinking of you. . . i'd closed my eyes and felt you. the next minute i stood at a vantage point looking at that same spot down there. lying in a pool of blood. and all i could remember was a deep dark blur. it dawned into a gray morning, the grayest day i had ever known. and when i rose, i could fly across that gray sky. the vast spanse of the city that we always looked at late nights from the roof. . all those lights far far away, was now this stormy sea. i thought i was free. it felt so light. and so damn  free. but i saw you. you were right there where i left you. the last walk we had at sunset hand in hand. the last time we made love that night. the roof, the purple sky, the wind in my hair. it was all just there. and you were there and i was with you. and now i see you every moment standing so close. . but you dont hear my breath. i hold your hand, but you dont feel me. . a minute stretches as long as an eternity, but you never look my way when i speak to you. and yet i feel your tears, i feel your pain as i drift. and i find you waiting in vain for me. while i wait for you.

i'd been right there in your arms. and it seems like just a while ago. .

the last draft, sire..

babadada forgetting u would be suicide.. i m struggling to cling to every little thing i have left of u.. Rebecca u gave me.. the tiny scribbling on every scrap in my register in ur handwriting..all ur smses starting 2008.. a hair frm ur head tht i saved in my journal frm one of our trips.. the bottle of bodywash i used in haridwar last winter to shower u.. the purple pick.. the yello t.. ur touch on my whole body.. thr wer so many times i longed to wear somethn tht wud declare ur ownership of me… so stupid. but i loved being owned by u.. the simple feeling of belonging to someone who loved me more than anyone else. i do mean wot i say.. i wil always love u… i want u happy thats all i want. i ll pray for u like i always do.

i need time.. maybe to find myself back..and maybe to feel again. if i cut myself there ll only be blood n no pain. i m hollow and lost. but i knw its unfair to expect u to wait. i always wondered at my soul.. tht i felt it always led me to hurt and hinders me frm being like othr ppl.. cause other ppl without their souls are so happy.. but im glad i ws the misfit. i guess it was tht u fell in love with.. the first ride on the bus me steppin on ur toe after showin u my stupid stupid sketches.. that will always mean everything to me.. tht u loved me. i knw i ll never hav babies.. never the family i always secretly imagined myself to mother. but u will always be my inspiration.. my reason to be alive. u dnt knw the biggest reason y i love u… thats because despite me tryin to lose my soul.. u kept it safe.. it sounds dramatic to u prbbly.. but u guarded it with ur love. and u think i could ever forget u?. i hav treasured these years… knwing tht my faith wud always protect u frm harm.. maybe lame.. but i guess it doesnt mattr.. it will never change.

i hav nothin left to lose.. the little i had will always remain in all my letters to u.. in all my prayers and hopes. all i need

is time alone.. i dnknw how long.. and i dnt expect u to wait. fly away to wher ur happy. if ur happy thts all i want.

*

to my alma mater, to-be. maybe later, or not-to-be

i see all these notes my friends keep writing nowadays, about how much they will miss college, and today i felt like writing too. . most of us are in this so-called last phase of academia. . which would soon, inevitably be followed by another string of rat-race-phases ! and we ll still worry about deadlines and reports, and sudden calls for presentations, and i know i ll always say, “this sux!” lol. its amazing how ironies never cease to be. as a student, i always had all the time in the world, all the ideas to be wild, but then there was attendance-shit, obligations, and alternating fortnights of being rich and being broke  and soon when we work, and work on our bank balance, we ll have all the money, and all the ideas, but perhaps not enough time.

i never wanted to give a thought to any of this. i never wanted a so-called normal life. but as Mother Irony would have it, my life seems to be going pretty normal. but in quite the abnormal way. what with all the “affectionate” episodes with AA, YA, PSR et al. and the unconditional and seemingly irrevocable ER, per se !  the first and the last ! funny, all i wanted was a tattoo; instead i got one on the marksheet  *shakes head disapprovingly* LMAO

i never gave much thought to how i’d feel with college getting over. . and with it pretty much my academic life (for a while). instead all my time and effort went in trying to get it over with. i ll never miss the first day of horror at finding weeds all over the plot. the first week of excessive excruciating self-reproach at having chosen the “perfect” place for mba leaving behind better options and being stuck in a place like the kailash campus, with all the state-of-the-art facility we had there !!! i ll never miss the tasteless soporific lectures, esp the ones with Papaya starting a godforsaken speech with “Dronacharya” and ending it with bullcrap promises. . and yet we always clapped and cheered ! i ll never miss all the wonderful moments that PSR and i shared . . which always led to me sleeping, or reading a novel in his class, sleeping, embarrassed, looking out of the window, did i mention sleeping  i ll never miss all the campus shifting. Lord knows my dad with his transferable govt job didnt have us moving household that often !!!  i wont miss the ymca get-togethers, with the red and green chairs, and the same menu and the hall with perennially the same faces and christmas decorations. i wont miss the gruelling, and the grind that the famous hyper AA put us through whenever we had presentations. i wont miss the fines by the grand ! i wont miss the management’s love for The Autocratic leadership style ! the kind that disapproves of unity when its most apt, and disapproves of individuality at all times. i wont miss the countless nights sitting like a zombie in front of the computer screen trying to stall an assignment i didnt like. i wont miss all the times i secretly thanked my group members for not assaulting me publicly for evading some of the rather painful presentations (thankyou Ankur, 22; weasel, 24; arijeet, 26; ashish, 28; ankit, 20) i will not miss the exam days when i always felt extra sleepier than normal days. i will never never miss the result-declaration days. . while i sat quietly waiting for the day to be over, never peeped into the charts, and always waited for mausom, nikesh or weasel to tell me of my drowning glory :’P

on the other hand, i will miss having group members who probably understood my plight at being stuck at the wrong place. i will miss countless nights of laughing and howling past 2am with weasel and talli, when we were supposed to be studying for exams. i will miss growing as a person, and growing up a bit more with each day. . and yet i will miss being a child like i have never been before. i will miss all those hours in the exam-hall when i got awesome ideas for stories, blogs and pondered and scribbled at the back of the question paper. . and smiled at myself at my self-revelation that happened at the wrong time  i will miss all the polo and candy shopping that kept us awake through seminars. i will miss booking seats farthest from the professor’s lectern, and closest to the air conditioner slash ceiling fan  i will miss scouring a library filled with books on finance, for literature classics. . and always finding one i liked. i will miss the endless coffees and breakfast through winters, and amul cools and cokes through summers. i will miss the bus rides astride Honey buses, and Baba balaknath buses  i will miss all those impromptu lunches out, and sitting every other day in dominoes or ccd because the “hostel-lunch is bad today”  i will miss the late night phone calls, and using gtalk like i never used before, and yet having so much to yap at sire the next day. i ll miss trying to coax deepak bhatt saying, “please mujhe FR nahi dena”. . and searching frantically for A4 sheets which were always gently handed to me by Hemkesh Bothra or Abhishek Dabb, Gaurav Kumar or Ashwani Kumar. i’ll miss lookin at Kavneet Kaur Oberoi and Gunjan Upadhyay, apoorva ghosh and Monica Patnaik during presentations and having this big urge to burst out into peals of laughter, throw the sheets at AA’s face and scurry out of the classroom. . talking to kavneet oberoi and monica patnaik on the phone, because the former sat on the first bench, the latter sat somewhere in the middle, and i was always the back bencher  i ll miss weasel cursing me for accidentally missing her calls (almost always)  i will miss Professor pankaj jain, and his subtle jokes on me until the last day. hehe. i will miss the anticipation for the age-old-perennially-inedible hostel food, “kya aaj kuch achha khana bana hoga”  i will always miss spending everyday with mausom boruah, saving seats for ech other, having every single lunch together, the endless conversations hiding behind the backs of the people in the front row.. me giggling non stop. and the occasional boughs of dozing off and poking with the elbow to wake the other up  and all the frantic scribbling cause of the need to make sarcastic situational jokes we so loved. i will miss staying up till 5am, standing in the balcony and watching the sky go from a deep purple to pink. . to orange. . to a bright golden blue.. til it was time to get dressed for college.

i dont know if i will be allowed to finish this course, but i lived the best time of my life. got to know all sorts of people. met an amazing person and got to learn so much about life. met a wonderful bunch of girls who have been by me in laughter and tears. . like somebody says, im “a boat without a sail”. . i take it as a compliment, for that is something i always wanted to be. when i came here, i was simply an observer – a voyeur of sorts. . but today i feel complete, having lived all facets of life in all its beauty and monstrosity; a woman who can think, say, do what she wants to. i owe a major part of it to Sire.

oh. i could go on and on. and yet, there are so many people i realize i never spoke to. . that is one regret i had through all phases of my life. i guess the plight of the introvert that is, and the clumsy clueless tactless person with no filtering system and no respect for social cues. i cant say i was raised that way, but i just happen to be that way. i wish everyone a good life. i know these 2 years have been a gift for some of us, it has been important. and i mean to specify that my sarcasm and my feelings for the (virtual) institute are not a personal assault to anyone or anybody’s feelings. some of us, lived a nightmare in these 2years. . but i can also say that we learned. some of us will never give in to being captive souls. . but the mere fact that we survived 2 years, strengthens the fact that we can survive anything no matter how difficult. . and we learned to value our freedom and individuality. sounds lame i bet. but i didnt plan on staying up one random night and forcing myself to live these 2 years all over.

so here goes, to the batch of 2010 ! Our Worst, and Best 2 yrs. with a hope for everything better.

cheers.

gift ~

I realized after a long time, today. the gift of kindness. something that is so rare in this world. . this “dog-eat-dog world”, like you say. i’ve missed home, and mum dad so much in the past few months, especially during the time i was sick. i was grateful to weasel and monica for their kindness when i couldnt stand, sit, bend, walk without support, not even sleep except on my belly. . i felt grateful everytime you came with me to see the doc. . you had to miss classes but you never complained about that to me.

before coming here, i now figure i only knew kindness from my family. they have done for me so much more than i’ve deserved. and i could never return in gestures, nor words ever. they have protected me as much as i could have made possible with all my stubbornness, and they have healed me in the most soothing manner possible, letting me grow, letting me fly, and yet binding the beast that i am to a hearth, that always warmed me in mum dad’s unconditional love..

its been over 6 months i havent seen mum dad.. i havent been in the simple comfort of home.. when most of this span was when i needed that the most. but i guess the Lord has his ways of making us strong. . of being it when we havent any other option.

today after a long long time i felt warmed by a gesture of kindness. i dont know how this sounds. stupid maybe. but like all other things i feel that sound stupid, this was a beautiful and important realization for me. . i remember my whole began with school. getting beaten up by bullies in kindergarten, coming back home with stapled fingers. eating lunch after lunch year after year sitting by myself. . and with a book, or with a notebook and pencil scribbling to glory pretending i didnt need anybody and i was sitting alone out of choice. but i would feel so ashamed, i could never read more than one page of any book in those 20minutes, it stung me to feel other prying eyes boring into me. growing up, it never helped being a teachers pet, assigned that hideous job of “helping the other girl” who didnt do well enough on her papers. i always thought i was no one better to teach somebody else. and i know all those girls i hesitatingly “helped” through elementary and middle school. . also felt the same. i could tell with all the silly pranks and afflictions i faced at their hands, that now do seem silly. sometimes i used to wonder if it was because of the strange stringent environment that a girls’ convent offered. maybe it bred ill feelings for girls for other girls… i could never tell. but i had no choice anyway. but being in a convent till 17, i do know was one reason i always imagined myself dying an old maid, a Virgin Mary-plain-jane at some nunnery.

but God seems to have had a better plan for me. and it seems almost happening since i met sire. atleast if not more, i know i wouldnt die an unloved unkempt, awkward old hag.

when i was 12 i met this bunch of girls who didnt criticize me for who i was. if some of them didnt like me, they never made it vocal. . and 8th and 9th standard were the happiest time in my school days, relatively. i made a few friends who liked me. even though i dont hear from them anymore, that was some days spent well. even though i never spoke at all in those days, i know they didnt mind and understood i was that way. even thought i cracked no jokes out of my pathetic painful shyness, i did get a lot of laughs.. and that was really rare for me. 10th 11th and 12th were a pain in the hole. that was the time when my submissiveness, and the morbid shyness morphed into what people today call placidly, “snobbishness” and “aggression” ! i dont know how it happened, but i guess i got to observe a few human specimens up too close. . and i guess the unpretty sight simply got into my wiring system and messed my circuits for life. i learned in those 3 years. . especially in 2003, the year of my life when i spoke 10 words a day only to my parents on the dinner table. . that life is far from a safe haven, that meanness is comparatively kinder than all the cruelty one is exposed to when their fate wills it. that submission makes things worse. that shyness is the world’s easiest weapon to hurt one who is too humble to say it out loud. that, the more i fear, the more it ll haunt me.. that its inevitable for us to go through all those lessons that life wishes us to learn, in the form of people it wills we meet. and as puppets we meet them, love them for their masks, and lie in dark for years afterward despising ourselves for having trusted blindly, for seeing all that should be burned. for still thinking of demons as friends. one morning we just wake up with a mask on our face. and then it takes another eternity, to find somebody to bring you back . . who can make you look you in the mirror and not hate yourself. . i waited everyday to find that soul who would bring mine back. undo all those spells and bring me back as i was when i was one sunny morning when i was 8. i didnt care that i hadnt a friend. i didnt mind that i was hated. i wasnt embarassed that i wasnt stinking rich. . every morning i held my head high and went to school, came back into my mums arms, played with my brother and ran to greet dad when he returned from work. i was rich ! i had everything i wanted. love, mum and dad to rescue me from nightmares, my brother to give me al the answers, delicious comforting food every single day. . mums hand stroking my hair. . and mine clasped around dad’s. there was no other world i imagined could be safer. . i was richer than any other kid i knew. . after all my wait, i met sire.. and he saw more than my mask. . and gave me my most precious gift..the infinity of all the happiness and peace i knew as a child. that i knew when i was 8.. and i ran barefeet on green grass everytime it rained just for the joy of it. . the year i decided i would become a novelist. . the year that was my happiest. . until 2008. . 2009. . 2010. . my 3rd year living with and falling over and over  in love with you everyday, sire.

college was another nightmare in its ways. i hate to even think of it now.

but it got over. . . and so did everything i had to do with all the people i knew in those 3 years. . barring one girl i still love talking to when i can. she married and has children now, but i will always remember her as the golden haired, pale-skinned, thin, beautiful and graceful biker-chic typo . . who loved to sketch, wrote poetry. . loved where she lived. . the green grass at her feet, the breeze in her hair, the lambs and goats she chased in happy abandon. . the one who dreamed of playing the acoustic, and loved Bon Jovi. she always understood.. she was another child i knew who loved nature. . and still does in form of a beautiful baby that she cradles in her arms, and another that she’s carrying. even though she could never express it, she was one prson through out my misery of 1st 2nd and 3rd year. . who listened. . and who never broke my heart. everyone else did. and did it perfectly. something i know will never let me feel the same for them again. . no matter what. be it shanil, be it varun, be it anyone else.

i dont know why i revisited all those old years gone by. . being myself in front of others is so difficult for me now. . like im impaired and sometimes i wonder if its my handicap. . but its got so ingrained in all years to hide behind a stone faced mask. . simply in self-defense that i just cant help it anymore. today, i am so adept at feigning aggression, it comes easily. today i can frame myself according to the people im with, and according to every whim my mind wants to indulge in. there are times i know im not myself in front of my parents either, cause despite loving their loony wild child. . they never understood me quite exactly. . and its alright that they never will. i dont have any girlfriend like other girls do.. to sit and chat up, to gossip with. . or simply to be myself with, tell her my deepest fears and my darkest secrets. . some of the things that never interested me. . maybe because they were things i never got to do. every guy i have met and been friends with says they have never known another girl like me. on the other hand, every girl i met either took me for a doormat while a played along, or hated me because she could not understand me. i didnt know who i was. i didnt know what was wrong with me. . i was so alone, and i was starting to get really sick of it. i just wanted to talk, and i needed someone to listen, and not judge. . but with you i feel so myself. . i can talk for hours without thinking, say the stupidest things, make the silliest  noises. . you’re the only person besides myself who knows everything about me.  . the only person who can make me smile. everytime i see you walkin around the bend in the road, towards me.. my heart skips a beat, and i feel my cheeks flushed warm… you re the only person who can make me smile, and laugh. . doing it with anyone else seems like a chore and gives me a headache doing it more than 5minutes… you re the only one who can make me the happiest girl. you re the only person who can make me feel like a woman at the same time. the part of me that was dead until i met you. . the part of me tht dies for the world outside of you. . and that aches in memory of your touch. . every single day every single waking moment when you re not with me. . maybe the reason i love slippin my hand in yours the moment i see you. . it has the power to calm me instantly. pretty much like my feelings that flow freely, without barriers. . when i know you will read my letters and understand, and when i bury my face in your chest and cry.

Lord answered my prayers with you sire. . in you i found all the missing pieces. all the comfort that i longed to feel. the freedom i had missed since than sunny morning when i was 8. . and i found it all back. most importantly i felt loved, and i knew there is someone in this world who loves me for who i am. . and not simply because they are biologically programmed to do so, like my parents. . i love my parents. . they made me. . they nurtured me inspite of all my stupid ways. . they loved me. but you had no obligations.. you had no reasons to bear with me and my stupid ways except the fact that you love me… thats all i can think. i was touched today when you slipped that money into my hands this evening. . not because this time i went the longest without cash. . i ve had to forgo needs that cost meager amounts. . not because of any other thing except that i felt like your own. i know a thankyou will never be enough. . and no amount of gestures will be enough to return this feeling. . i dont know. . it simply made me feel so loved. it was something only my parents have done with me… being given without asking for it. . and today u did it. . despite not being naturally programmed to do it. . despite the bad person that i am you love me so much. . and its not just about today.. not the past, not the future. . but simply the fact that you do. . and that you’re there for me no matter what. . i can fight any battle in the world just knowing that much.

thankyou for everything. maybe i ll never be able to make u understand how happy and gratefu l i feel that you are with me. . something i will always guard with my life, besides guarding you. i feel so happy to be alive. in these 2 years we spent together.. i forgot that old feeling of wanting to go to bed and never waking up. i wish i cud do half of some like tht for u.. i would be the happiest person to have lived..

i love you sire. the most.

happiness ~

Dear Sire,

i am supposed to be working on a deadline. but like always, i’m dreaming away. . i couldnt help but think of last summer. The nights i’d be sittin up on the roof talkin to you over the phone… or waiting for your call.. or simply sittin on my corner dreaming away about us. of the days we’ve had, of the hopes i always had for the future.

now i find solid ground where i stand. . and i have come a long way, and also that We have come a long way. and i cant help but feel this rush of gratitude for the Good Ol’ Guy Up There.

its weird how we fuss about so many things, that we might as well not even notice otherwise, if we were in a different time, situation, or if we were other people. absolutely random and obnoxiously stupid thought it seems to be. but i sat wondering, and i realized every moment, i lose a breath. . and inch closer to the Time, the Inevitable. i felt gripped by this simple comfort one feels when one knows that the path they are on would eventually lead them Home. I love my life. with all its randomness, all its struggle, pain, beauty, the placidity with which it goes on, the cruelty behind that calm, the sweet charming seductive bitch that it is, with all its vigor and happiness it has to offer in spite of everything.

i love my life. . i havent known this feeling before you came. i had regrets before, but you made everything disappear with the peace that you gave me. and today i feel as free as i always wanted to be. they say a human can never be truly free. . that with every deep commitment there comes the ‘obligation’ to remember, the responsibilities to fulfill. . the strings to be bound to. but im not blind in love to feel the way i do. . . loving you comes so easy to me. . like you ve been a part of me my whole life. you ve see me in ways i havent seen myself in all of my 22 years. in your own ways, you ve silently been there throughout. you ve fussed and fretted over me when i messed up, and then talked me out of situations when i was ready to give up. you cared when i suffered. . you stood up for me, even when i lost hope, you held my hand and lead me to light. when we met, i was the romantic, and you were the realist. . the dreamer in me always floated, always lurked about in faraway lucid thoughts and inexistent places. the man in you knew well to be logical enough to have solid ground where you stood, so unlike my vague nature. you had the answers to all my questions. had a reason to justify My whims and you were always so gracious to overlook my imbecility. .

today, i find myself looking for reason, and a solid ground for us. . and i see you dream. i couldnt be happier. now i find myself more wary of the world and its seeming beauty, and you acknowledge the breeze, and look for the moon like i always would. when i hit rock bottom, you bring back all my lucid thoughts and all those inexistent places i always so fondly loved to hide in. . in my head. you feel my pain, when im hurt. you worry about me like your own child. and you trust me. . and i swear to Lord, that is the best honor i could have had from you. . even greater than the love i found in you. even though your love is the most important part of my whole life.

life, as i know it now. . is beautiful. . i can hear your voice when i need to. . i can see your face when i need to. . and when you hold me back in your warmth. . . i know nothing could make me feel safer than your arms wrapped around me. . and i couldnt ever even dream of asking for anything more, but you. your health and happiness. cause i know there remains my every heartbeat, my every breath.

i dont anymore worry about the future. things were different when we met. even though we are still the same two people, i know what brought us together despite the hopeless Romantic meeting Realist. the child in me, found home at last in the child in you. the water nourished the earth, making it complete, bringing her in terms with her purpose. and the earth held all the water, giving him time and space to explore and find its path.

you taught me to find my answers and my purpose in all my dreams. . you taught me to be careful, to watch out for the dark that lurks behind blinding light. . you taught me to use my wings. . and you widened my horizon making me see, the more i ll spread my wings – the higher, and the farther i could fly. you ve gently pushed me into being more me. . .

i pray for you everyday. and i pray for us. i wish Lord gave me enough strength to be your anchor like you are to me. . to be half as graceful and loving, as you are to me.

Always yours.

*