Transport

I'm holding on to an amazing feeling right now. There's a beautiful sense of security surrounding me like a positive aura. I'm serene. And all my senses are absolutely aware to each and every second as it passes.

I feel in control.
I am not static. Rather I'm more liquid than I'll ever be. Instead of flowing in every direction with a forced push, I'm flowing in one direction more powerfully than ever.

And all this was brought about by half an hour of silence and focussing on absolutely nothing.

We all need time-outs. Although we might not accept it, but we all do. Atleast once a week. It doesn't dim your vibrancy, rather it makes you a stronger mixture of colours.

Switch off your phone, shut out the world and spend some time in  solitude's loving embrace. Transport yourself to your paradise. By the end of it you feel alive, relaxed and much lighter than before.
And of course there will be this beautiful sense of contentment accompanying you everywhere. :)

Today was a Fairytale.

It had been really long since she ever felt that way. Rather she had never felt that way. She had never felt so close to someone. So close that being closer beyond that seemed like an unfathomable expression. She'd always thought that fairytales never existed but well that was her way of dealing with rejection.
And then there was today. This was her unexpected, unorthodox fairytale.
It was like as if not he, but his fingers knew what she wanted to feel.
As if that strong impulse which had led them here was being the north star, guiding them to unconventional and unheard of emotions.
It was right there. This complex net of emotions. It was uncomplicating everything. It was leading them to each other's face even in the absence of light.
She didn't speak. It had numbed her. It seemed surreal.
He couldn't have been the same guy who just told her that he couldn't do without her ever.
He couldn't have been in her arms, she said to her shocked mind, he couldn't have been the same guy she had irrevocably been in love with for so long.
But he was.
And that was all that mattered.

Remember me?

I was aimlessly looking at people entering the train. Forming opinions. Judging people on their appearance, the volume at which they talk over their phones, little nitty-gritties about their appearances.
It's fun. And its what most women are amazing at.
That's when I saw her.
She had a troubled look on her face. But that hair.
I wouldn't ever forget that mop of curly hair.
Despite it having been more than 8 years since I had last seen her face.
I go back to 4th grade.
The time when I last saw all of them.
Ofcourse it's her.

I can't be wrong.
(That's what my brain thinks.)
Nevertheless, I ponder over wether it's sensible, the idea of approaching her. I mean we weren't really close as friends.
I remember what my reaction was the last time I saw one of them. I was plain confused about how had my bestfriend from 2nd grade grown up into this beer guzzling, tattooed machine.
(No offence to that prototype.)
I'm still trying to gather the courage.
It's now or never.
Only heavens know when I will meet one of them again.
So I finally get up.
Just that when I look up from my phone, she isn't there.
And Goregaon just went by. She might have gotten off. It strikes me how all of them stayed in Goregaon.
Ofcourse it was her, Rexy. :)

Jumbled.

(Originally was published in July 2012, some stupid glitch in the application has forced me to republish it.) 

It's an uncanny resemblance in all my blog posts that I start with "so, well" initially and later get tweaked to god knows what.
I'm actually jumbled.
This stems from my disorder of thinking excessively.
I create things.
Half of the stuff, of which's occurrence I'm scared about, isn't even there in the first place.
My mind is like a machine, creating fictional situations, all of which aren't exactly possible. But let's face facts, I'm probably a masochist. I mean I keep hurting myself, thinking of the most awful outcomes possible.
And something in my head, tries to  pretend like all of that is happening for real. The end result - Me in a miserable state of mind.
Ah well screw that.

My father ran with me today when I almost missed my bus to school. Avoiding puddles and sprinting way ahead of me, he looked like he might have been blood-related to Usain Bolt.

I felt sorry for myself thinking of my awkward sprint which kept transforming into a jog and then a walk and back to the sprint randomly. Maybe I've taken after the plump side of my family and not after him.
The fact that this statement might be a fact made me curse my genes. :P

When I was sprinting/jogging/walking I called out to him asking him to stop running and walk because I was the one who had to catch the bus. He responded with something which sounds filmy but made me smile for the rest of the day "I'll run to the edge of the world with you"!
Thank you Papa. :)
Even though our relationship threatens to seem like a disaster at times, I'll always love you more than mom. :P

Messy.

So I am sitting on my window, staring at pigeons and marvelling at their love for nooks and crannies, when I feel a tear on my cheek. I don't even know how I started crying. All I know is once I did, it didn't stop.

Since the last couple of days, I've become an awful lot crankier, ready to snap at people for no reason at all. I have started to analyse every little thing about every person (significant or insignificant doesn't matter). I can't look past certain things. Weird details; somethings which don't even matter, have enveloped me and my thinking capacity.
Just now, I snapped at someone, AGAIN.
I can see a fault in me.
I know how to rectify it, exhume it. But I can't.
And I suppose that's how life works?

I can't trust, The one person that I really need to. It isn't exactly about "trust you with my secrets" trust; Not even "I have doubts over you" trust. It's something more complex. It's something like I don't trust someone to be there. I don't trust a person to actually hold me when I need that. I don't trust a person to stay.
Yes that's all that my problem is.

And well, I know this piece might be a real rag but I had to write. I had to write to solve out the tangled ball of yarn that my brain has been processing over the last month.

Feels better.

My amusement park =)

Amusement park.
It's your birthday!
I don't know how on earth did I start getting so dependant on you.
Last year, same time, I used to hit on you because I found your eyes pretty. (And also because of my drummer theory.)

I still find them pretty though. Pretty like a girl.
Hahaha.
So who's amusement park?
He's just this guy, I gradually got close to. He is creepy, but he is funny too. Although I don't like the jokes he makes on me, at the end of the day, the are actually funny. Like hilarious.

He is the only person who gets away with those jokes, which by the way are made round-the-clock.

The first initial times that I spoke to him, I thought he was some really shy, 'my habitat is a cave' sort of a person.
But honestly, almost 6 months later, I can certifiably say he isn't that at all.
"Amusement park" because he is fun.
And ofcourse, he is the ONLY person with evidence about my previous embarrassing blog. (Incase you're reading this, DO NOT ever upload that picture.)

And yeah why this post?
Well because he is the only person who over-exerts his mind as much as I do. And because he is the 'fastest' best friend I made.
(Ps only I consider him that. Not the other way round. :P)
Hmm I want this to be a crisp post, so, I hope you never let go of your 'next level' sense of humour, get all that you wish for, grow up and stay the same.
Happy Birthday Douche. :)

Repair Centre

A week into hostel life & I feel like there is a tenant in this personality.
A loner is hiding somewhere behind that excessively jolly visage.
I look at that face and something pierces me.
Something invisible & something painful.
That person is fake. Trying so hard to be THAT someone that they aren't.
Trying so hard so push life into dead situations.
Trying even harder to smile her way through things which she knows will not work.
It's like she has been given an appliance that won't work and she tries her best to hit that machine, throw it around make it work. But it won't.
It is like every situation in her life is like that appliance, refusing to work out.
I try to run a finger over that face. It feels cold. It is my face.

So I lament. Cry. Scream. Do all that I can to make it work.
Spend almost all my day in that exasperated situation.

But then I start writing.
My mind clears up.
"The clouds burst forth & it began raining".
That rain soothed the roughened edges of my mind.
Quenched that pained, thirsty side with an answer.
I had tried everything but this-

I put in new batteries into the appliance.

Look at me now.

There comes a point in everyone's life when you don't have options.
When you have to deal with a situation at hand in the only way that you wouldn't want to. When you learn accepting. Accepting things, circumstances that in no way appeal to you.
That make you question your point of existence.
You eventually have to learn dealing with things. Learn how the tough get going when the going gets tough.
And you won't learn unless you experience that once. It can be learnt only the hard way.
You'll learn how to rapell only once you do it. The theory about it won't take you anywhere.

The reason having provoked this side to come out is living in a hostel.
No one makes my bed.
No body picks up things from the floor which I keep chucking here & there.
No body clears the mess that I make of the table.
No body tells me wether a grey pair of jeans goes in sync with a black t-shirt.

All that dependence has just disappeared. Gone away to some distant far off place.

It's a total paradoxical feeling where I wish I could lean upon someone allover again & another part which is glad that I'm finally dealing with life on my own.
And for now I'm off to find entertainment, on my own.

Is dreaming a crime?

I woke up this morning, with a feeling of absolute disarray.
Like as if my feet were stuck in quicksand & soft waves of water washed over the quicksand giving me hope to get out but actually pushing me further inside. Water was behaving like a villan with a visage which was the epitome of pretention.

And then back in reality someone yelled at me.
What started as a discussion cascaded into a verbal duel in a time span of less than a few minutes. Rather verbal attack. It was one-sided.

I was yelled at for being shallow.
For being a person who is superficial. For being a dreamer.
For dreaming of encompassing things that 'could always happen'. 
For dreaming of a better future.

Now since it was a verbal 'attack', I'm going to clear my stand through this blog post.

Is dreaming a crime?
No it isn't.
If Kekule wouldn't have dreamt we wouldn't have had the structure of aromatic compounds.
The base tune of the Beatles song 'Yesterday' came to Paul McCartney in a dream.
Now coming to day-dreaming.
It's a pivotal thing.
If you wouldn't day-dream, you wouldn't aspire. If you wouldn't aspire, you wouldn't implement. If you wouldn't implement, you would never achieve.

Now for me after step 2 in the above nothing really follows but I have a belief. A belief which tells me that there will be a day when I'll wake up in the morning and will be determined to achieve. That day when I'll start implementing.
And hopefully it won't be too late.

And I know one thing as each day passes, I get closer to THAT day. :)

Lines in Charcoal.

It has been 2 years now. Or 1. No two.
And although at one point of time in life, I felt that I would remember this episode like the back of my hand, I can't. It takes efforts to recall.
It takes me time to arrange all those incidents in my head in a chronological order.
Arrange all those times where I felt my life was worse than a Taylor Swift song.

All those times when a naive, unprepared 14 year old soul felt like it wouldn't survive to see another day.

Okay, this blogpost isn't in anyway to glorify how stupid I was & how much of a jerk you were.
It is just to talk about a life-changing incident.
You. Thank you.
Nothing in the world could slap me as hard as having you in my life did.

Teenagers in 2012, we've a series of hookups, breakups, heartbreaks, but we move over it.  Rather we get too involved in life as we know it.

This was (if I may have the liberty of calling it so) my first heart break.
What makes it different?
Well the fact that I still don't really know what can it be exactly categorized into.

So yes. You changed me.
You taught me to open my eyes to another side to people. You made me realise that the world is not JUST full of colours, it has rather strong streaks of black as well. Lines in charcoal. And those lines, are what defines those clouds of colours. 
You taught me to be meaner, nastier and above all stronger.
You taught me how to feel blessed. (This came later though)
You taught me to deal with problems. You made me egotistical. You made me realise that no matter what problem I'm dealing with, someone else is dealing with something worse somewhere.

You helped me find me.

Apple Mango Cherry Jam.

We are all wired differently. Meant to think differently.
If we all thought that a red apple was a good apple then people would eat only the red ones.
But there does exist a small cross section which loves the green apples.

A cross section that might not eat apples all together.
Another cross section which might eat anything as long as it is an apple.
And yeah stuff like that.

Let's think of this like an apple.
I am a certain type, with a certain colour & a certain shape. My neighbor in this apple crate might be completely different or we might share the same colour or the same shape or both. But there has to be something different. I might turn out to be more sour.
So basically, not like this isn't known to mankind but we are all different apples.
So don't compare two apples.
So learn to accept different apples.
So understand that you & another apple might be same.
So understand that although this sounds weird, it makes hell lot of sense.

Aah sucks. This is what a cold does to my mind. :/

F*** You!

I'm being hypocritical using those asterisks!
I mean I abuse a lot.
Surpassing levels of what is considered an acceptable level of abuses for a girl.
Like take this example-
I have an examination on Physics tomorrow. In the vicinity of my neighborhood, some guy, some where is getting married.
Indians & Marriages = Food, Clothes, Bling & an annoying cacophony for the non-participant.
So yes there was a typical band baja wala.
Playing numbers which I (ordinarily) would have gyrated to without a thought. But then Physics - my bitch.
:]

So in a case of 'grapes are sour' I started abusing. Cussing loudly in my room.
'F*** you motherf*****'

(I don't want to contaminate my blog with the real deal! :P)

And I realised it was a cathartic reaction, I was feeling blissful after doing this even though the music hadn't stopped!

Now this is what conclusion I came to, as humans we should cuss. Scream, abuse, yell.
Screw you!
It helps, in a massive way!

A study had proven that people who cuss everytime they stub their toe are in less pain after doing so in comparison to the ones who didn't do so.

So message for the week-
Next time you stub your toe, yell out-
'You cheap, whore-house resident d***head'!
Heck your neighbor pissed you off?
Your ex boyfriend can't get over you?
Let it out!!!

For f**k's sake. Abuse.

Good Morning Wali Auntyji!

Which realms of darkness has selflessness faded into?
Or is it just that one is so involved in self that thinking away (less) from yourself seems like a rabid concept?
My personal belief of how you need to walk over people in this "cash-bling-more cash-more bling" world tends to get contradicted.
Contradicted by what I see.

Contradicted by Good Morning Wali Auntyji.

Well that does sound weird but yes I've re-christened my bus supervisor with that title.

This lady replaced our original bus supervisor.
The original one was a creep. Like really!
At 6 in the morning, she used to stare at every individual in the bus with an unfathomable expression and to this day I swear it scared me.
Like freaked me out.
She gave me negative vibes. Really polluted ones.
(Again maybe it was just a matter of perception. But yet.)

Now anyway coming back to Good Morning Wali Auntyji, on her first Monday morning, as I entered the bus, she said something which sounded like good morning. But given the fact that nobody has done that ever before I just dismissed that as my brain having over-exerted.
And then another child got in and she did say the damned words after all!

This "Good Morning" practice went on and she hasn't stopped yet!
I'm just curious to see will it last while she lasts?

This is what set me thinking, about selflessness.
Her job profile nowhere covered that she had to wish children in the morning, all she is getting paid for is sitting on a seat & supervising the children.
Some don't wish her back, some give her a confused look, some do wish her back, but none of that deters her.
It's like a small greeting such as a Good Morning with a smile, first thing in the morning, does make you happy, not so significantly but it's a positive start nevertheless.

I guess I've reached the answer to my question then; No selflessness hasn't faded into the realms of darkness,  there just isn't enough light shining over it. :)

Stories. Theories. And some more crap.

It's been a month almost since I last wrote. Maybe that is exactly the reason for the chaotic state I'm seeing myself in, right now.

*I*
(Yes only I feel I am in a chaotic state.)

Prior warning: This post is going to be extensive. I haven't written in really long.

1.I talked to a friend the other day, he casually mentioned how some *statistical number* of people tend to tell their problems to others just to, in a way, gain sympathy.
So it set me thinking (I realised one more thing, I think a lot!) over why do some people (ME! ME! ME!!) tell people about their life, why are some people so keen on being an open book.
Socializing is a different thing, you talk about ice-breaking topics first, gradually diverting to small talk.
Building walls around yourself is also another. It is just a futile attempt trying to 'stay alone' in a world overburdened with overpopulation anyway.
But what I've been doing is different, I guess it's just talking, I mean talking about things to feel that there is a purpose to your life. Talking about things that affect you, things that make you smile.
I think yes I'm thinking too much, talking is a passion & I am one overtly indulgent person. :P

2. It is going to be a year since I wrote my board examination & honestly I miss that studious side to me.
I used to wake up early to study Physics & almost fall asleep in the attempt. Last year, same time, 7am was early for me. This year at 7, I'm in a class in school, discussing homework maybe.
Time changes, moves so fast that before you realise, a year might have passed, maybe I won't be AS nostalgic next year.
BUT this has been a life altering year. :))

3. Are there really two spellings to realise?
Realize & Realise?

4. I've been reading a book- The Palace of Illusions.
It's a book on the Mahabharata from Draupadi's perspective.
And very honestly the book is making me feel that pain.
I mean the pain she went through, after her brother-in-law tried to dishonor her in front of such a huge gathering & how just everybody although pained didn't dare to raise a voice, didn't bother to protect the last shread of shame.How she wanted the war to happen because she wanted revenge for being publicly humiliated! I can feel that pain & anger for some damned reason.

And the one part that actually hurt me more or less was how complex her story with Karna was. What started as love, how it  veered onto become a sentiment layered with layers of anger, hatred, relinquished love, forgiveness and how returned to where it began, love.
And like the story basically says, you can't withhold your heart. You might be married to a certain man but your heart might be belonging to some other man itself, all you can do is manage your actions so that they don't give away.

It made me feel a new emotion. I smelt what revenge must have smelt like. I felt like I was tasting vengeance.
Basically the book has transported me to a place, where no book or movie has ever before.

A place where I'm living like the person who I can see all sides to.

*sigh*

Now ALL feels great!
Writing IS my drug, I guess! :D

But I'm still a child.

We all go through an array of emotions on seeing a 4 or 5 year old. More specifically keeping aside the "Aww" & "How cute" the predominant feeling is that of wanting to run back to your days as a child, savour each & every moment as it passed.
And that's why most of us believe in those cliched quotes which revolve around how we always wanted to grow up as kids & how as grownups we want to go back to our days of glory!

Coming to think of it, like everyone else, I wish I could too.
Run.
To those times when no matter how you dressed up no one would be excessively judgmental about it. Nor would you be over critical about people & their choices, their clothes, their dressing sense, their theories about life, their philosophies, their traits.

To those times when a guy you shared your crayons with was your friend.
Now even despite sharing a mother, there is animosity between brothers.

To those times when the one task which would leave me in a tizzy would be nothing but colouring inside the lines.
Not endless submissions in school coupled with expectations & pressures.

To those times when 'being cynical' were words which I would eventually learn to spell.

To those times when the only things I had to choose from where the clothes my doll would wear.

To those times when everything could somehow become a thing for your parents to deal with.

Ma

So maybe these thoughts just stem from extreme laziness & partial inadequacy in living life as I inch closer on a bridge to being a grown up. Yes, this point of view definetly comes from the fact that there's a part of me completely unprepared to face life as such. Unprepared to leave a mind which is still holding on to the last remains of innocence. Unprepared to live a life where nothing will shield me from disappointments. But someday I actually will be ready. I'll be armed. To become an individual. I'll be ready to grow up. :)

And Macbeth was an insecure man.

English lectures in my school never really fits the definition of a 'class in progression'.

The number of students actually focussing & paying attention virtually trickles down from the entire strength of a class of 30 something to barely even a fourth of that number.

But today something was different.
Today, even admist all that noise & absolute disarray in class, one sentence somehow caught my attention. That ONE sentence entered the crevices of my mind & refused to leave my thinking capacity till I actually realized it's depth.

"And Macbeth was an insecure man."

As I walked down the cobbled path leading away from my Math class, the emotion which the sentence pertained to gradually began to seep in.

That emotion hit me in my face, slapped me so hard that I wanted to sit somewhere and start crying.

Yes I am insecure. And so was Macbeth.

I don't exactly want to tell people that I am this insecure person as insane as that protagonist of that tragedy, but I can sympathize with him. I can feel that insecurity which comes with attainment of something you have been wanting for long.

Yes I have  wanted someone for really long. And yes I get insecure about that person, too fast, too soon.
It is a part of my personality now, can I really even change that?
Can I stop being insecure?

I don't really think I can.

Now immature as this definitely sounds I don't even want to change it. I don't want to give up on this fear. It keeps me attached.

And well that sense of security might be far from becoming a reality but do I really want it?

My Mom thinks that there's a certain greatness which lies in accepting the flaws in your personality.
So there is some greatness that I've achieved by admitting that I'm insecure..:P

So for now I won't change a thing, I'll just go on reveling in this new-found 'greatness'..:)

Hope and Change and Love

"If it's gonna be a rainy day
There's nothing we can do to make it change
We can pray for sunny weather
But that won't stop the rain."

-Please Don't Stop The Rain
(James Morrison)

This was one song which I chose to skip, everytime it played on my iPod. But today, half exhausted & in a condition that made my eyes look as hollow as that of a zombie, I didn't really feel energetic enough to reach out to my iPod & change the song. So I let it play.

So I feel like I welcomed change!
Change is a positive thing. We all agree to that! We all say that, does anyone even believe in that?

This 'change' was like a car, it dropped me off for my date with 'hope'.

Yes I'm philosophical right now.

Why?
Well I just had a good day. :P

I mean really I know it's not a personal diary but after so long, I felt love around me, wonderful sweet love around me!
(No reference to making love. :l)

It is such a beautiful feeling! :')

So maybe that's what makes up our life.
(Deliberate error cause it sounds 'cool' :P)

Hope and Change and Love.

Why do I feel that urge to write?

Life as my 16 year old soul (how old :')) knows it isn't actually simple. It is more of funny!
I mean yeah it is funny.
And no I don't look at it from rose-tinted glasses.

Those special low-downs of life which actually make me say "FML." are those moments that motivate me to write. Specifically the ones which involve situations related to people. People who matter.

Like considering this post for instance, my best-friend (new-found) is a part of band (yeah the ones who actually play!). The band was part of  a certain competition & they were to perform today at a close-by mall.
I really had all plans of going, owing to the love I have for my best-friend and the love I have for drummers.
But then I realised that given how late the event would finish, it made more sense in not going.
Momentary, impulsive decisions can suck. Big time.
No they actually can sometimes.

So I decided that I won't go rather I will stay at home & finish of my pending work, well what did I do at home then?
Nothing apart from cribbing over why I should have genuinely gone, thinking about all those wonderful drummers I'm missing out on, thinking about how my best-friend would be "singing"!
Yeah I am pretty much masochistic.

And well to agonize me further, I come to know that they came third & landed up a gig at some place.
Now in an ordinary situation I should have been happy for them. But I was more on the lines of confused.
Why in the first place was I getting so upset?
Maybe because we all get that feeling at some point, don't we?
Of being left out.
I felt awful, all day long. Even the girl dating the person playing the keyboard for the band did not feel as bad on not getting to go!

I'm just sensitive to the wrong things maybe!

But reverting back to what I started from, yes so I just wrote about what happened & quite honestly I felt like a boulder was just pushed off my measly little body.
I feel great. Like I have talked to a room full of people about my situation & as if at the moment they are shooting sympathetic & caring glances. As if they are telling me their own stories about how they have felt the same way at some point of time.
As if their experiences about being left out have been worse.

Now I sound like a schizophrenic with a sadist temperament.
Shit!