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Wednesday, January 17, 2018

The other side.

I had a minor epiphany the other day. Following a short rant to s1 about everything that was on my mind, I thought (out loud, over text) ‘I think I am trying too hard’. To which she replied ‘yes, you are’. Validation: Check.
 So I decided to disengage. Detach. Untangle. From everything, everything that I’ve taken upon myself to fix. It was weighing me down and debilitating me. I need to face and accept my limits. I can not fix every one and every thing so why am I even trying to? Why am I worrying myself sick over things that are beyond my control? Maybe I can do better. Maybe I can help this way. Maybe if I just did this one thing, the situation will change for the better. In trying to assuage this constant guilt of ‘am I not helping enough?’ I’ve managed to create permanent wrinkles in my heart and it has started to hurt. I am exhausted. It’s time to take two steps back and breathe. 

Easier said than done though. Ugh. Easier said than done. 

Today was a day of breaking rules. I woke up really late. Pressed snooze at least 18 times. Had a royal breakfast in s2’s room where we watched Gilmore girls and lazied around for hours. Emily Gilmore is my favourite btw. Took a good shower, and wore very matching clothes with matching socks. Red. Then dad called and requested our presence. So hung out with parents for a bit and ended up lecturing them them about some important issues. Went for a walk with s2 and got coffee on the way. I’ve been off caffeine for a while now. Well not caffeine. Just coffee. Long story why but anyhow. I got me some coffee and boy was it fulfilling. Me and S2 walked for two hours and shared our grievances about the world and it’s many people. The sound of shoes on gravel is most pleasing to my ears. Especially when it’s dark and cold outside. And silent. Also aeroplanes in the dark. Isn’t it fascinating how something seemingly insignificant like watching aeroplanes in the sky can come to mean so much to you? Moving on. I got home after the walk and decided to not study at all. Spent an hour or so talking to V about mental health. THEN. Ordered fried chicken and Chips around midnight. What? And watched black mirror. Now I’m in bed. 

I like brave people. I even like the word Brave. I want to be brave. I think if I had a doggo, I’d call him brave. Instead of Wolfgang which has been my preference for a while. 


The new year has begun. We spent the night around remnants of a bonfire that is rekindled at the last night of every year. We sit around the fire and talk about our hopes and fears and what makes us who we are. I couldn’t sleep all night though. 7 am, a splitting headache, frozen feet and an unquiet heart. Realised that my relationships have more of an affect on me than anything else. 

Friday, December 22, 2017

Under thy rib.

I hate it when people claim to hate drama but actually don’t. I hate it when people act mad. Not mad as in angry. But mad as in insane. Out of control. Irrational. Continuously so. I hate unnecessary pessimism. But when is pessimism ever necessary? I hate snide remarks. Indirect comments. Saying one thing and meaning another. I hate empty formality. Doing things just for the sake of doing things. Saying anything because something must be said. I hate self pity. Victim mentality. Hate it when people can’t be bothered to listen. I hate people giving up hope. Hate the pain that’s eating away my gut. 


I don’t care much for happiness. Or sadness for that matter. For me. It’s more about feeling light or feeling heavy. And no they’re not the same. I want to feel Light. Always. Even when things are hard. Even when elephants are jumping on my shoulders and my head is balancing a mountain. Even then. To not let shit weigh me down. That’s the goal. Happiness? Transient. Mirage like. Drug like. Pfft. Who cares. 

Sons of dinosaurs.

This morning is different. Well. It’s the 1st of December. The beginning of the end. A few days back it was the beginning of October and where did November even go? Just asking. It’s a little after noon yet it feels as if it’s dark grey and wet outside. And very very cold. Except it’s not. It’s pleasantly sunny. I prefer the former btw. 

My room is toasty orange. S2 didn’t have work this morning. So we stayed inside and had breakfast with complimentary jalebi from the nice people next door. 

Lately I’ve been plagued by drama on all fronts. Family, friends, friends of friends. Ugh. Vomit inducing. I just finished watching the Intouchables. It’s one of my favourite movies. It made me laugh and it made me smile. As it did the first time I watched it. S2 thinks it’s a sad movie. And she called me colour blind. Or rather. Emotion-blind. Instead of red and green, I have trouble distinguishing between sad and funny. That made me laugh too. 

So Icarus’s dad told him not to fly too close to the sun because the heat would melt the wax holding his wings together. But sun shmun. He didn’t listen. Closer and closer to the sun he flew until feathers turned to fire, flight turned to fall, and he drowned to his death in the sea. I think we all, at some point in life, channel our Inner Icarus. We fly straight into the sun until we burn, fall blind, or simply fall. 
And no amount of advice (parental or otherwise) can prevent that.

I love the sound of thunder. Like fire in a dragons belly. Threatening to split the sky open any second. Mom is like me. She says it warms the heart, thunder. 


Idris Elba. I love that guy. I started watching Luther just so I could hear him talk. Heh. The show is meh though.

Saturday, November 11, 2017

Somebody else.

It’s a cold day. The fan is off, the room is silent. My throat feels like it will start hurting by the time I’m back home from lunch. My system does not cope well with physical stress. Headaches escalate and fevers happen. Inconvenience I tell you. I’ve been watching Vikings in bed all day and I like Ragnar. I keep telling s2 that he has a smile about his face. It’s something. 

It’s Halloween today. I am reminded of a yellow kid beaming next to a goat. Just an old dream. 

I am increasingly intrigued by why people behave the way they do. What their masks are made of. What fears drive them? Every one,  everyone has a story. I can’t help but look for it every time I interact with someone. 

The idea that I have, of the kind of person I want to be must not remain an idea. A mirage. Lately, I’ve been making an active effort to become that person. I’m doing things that I am not comfortable with, saying things I would never have had the guts to say three years ago. But I’m doing it now. Because the only way to do it, is to do it. 
Baby steps, baby. 

You think death, disease, doubt, depression, are things that happen to other people. You hear stories, you empathise but don’t relate. Can’t relate, because they are not about you. Not you, never you. But then bit by bit it starts to happen. To you, and those near you and nothing is ever the same and your story is just as ordinary and painful as the next person. 

Life feels churny again. I’m not working but every day is full. V is here. And between shopping trips to sleepovers to maintaining old rituals to struggling to get through all nine hours of the Lotr series before she leaves, I’m trying to deal with one of the saddest things I have faced as an adult. I’m meeting N for breakfast tomorrow morning so we can catch up on the shit we are both dealing with. I have lost half my voice. And 3 a.m thoughts are getting heavier. 

I went cycling today. And cycled to my hearts content. After years. It’s getting cold. Cold enough that my feet are cold and I’m wearing a hoodie. Having air rush through your hair is one of the best feelings. Cycling gives me that. I got this bicycle from N’s little sister and had to cycle back home. S2 drove and I tried to chase her and so I peddled hard and by the time I got home my heart was half out of my chest and I was so nauseous I had to sit next to the flush for five minutes. S2 found this amusing. 

Me and her also sat at the swings for a while as we often do when it gets chilly and white with fog and smog. I should call my dad tomorrow. My throat is dry and painful every night and every morning. I thought about some things last night. I feel liberated in a way. It was really good for me. I ate daal chawal after I got home from cycling. With finely chopped salad just the way I like it. Watched Alias Grace with s2. Criminal psychology fascinates me. But all shows are so predictable. Today was good. In spite of the heart sinking and squeezing every now and then as it does. It was almost peaceful. Still is. So far. 

Saturday, October 14, 2017

Husk from Pluto.

I have trouble writing in here because somehow every thing seems too personal to be written about the way I do. I can write pages; chronicling the banality of my day to day life, but that does not suffice anymore. It does not. The words that do come out are too loud, light..diffused. I've been spending a lot of time on my own. It's just me and dad. Almost every night, I leave my phone behind to go outside for a walk until the mosquitoes (or in some cases, a dragonfly) drive me away. I've seen this sky a million times. The silver moon, red bricks, green tea, and my blue heart. Every thing's the same. My words are lost. They have no where to go. I abandon conversations mid-sentence. Why do people prefer forced enthusiasm over genuine silence? Beats me. When i was little, I used to make it a point to greet my dad every evening when he reached home from work. I would wait and watch him park the car and gather his things. Phone, newspaper, naan, or school supplies that we reminded him to bring on his way back. He would hand these things to me. And i would take them inside. That was all. But well, I grew up, dad grew old, and our respective worlds changed us in ways unforeseen. Yet, despite everything, there are times when I feel i'm still that little girl, waiting to greet her dad every time he comes home. When he does, I go out the gate and i beam at him as he opens the car door. I hug him before he is allowed to enter the house. Then I help him unload the car, his shoes, his shirts in hangers, the grey travel bag. I do it every time.. Maybe we are not the same people we once were. But there is comfort in knowing that some things never change. And that love and warmth is..instinct, hardwired. Isn't it? I am usually in the process of falling asleep at this hour, listening to an audiobook of  the Neuropsychology of Self discipline. It puts me to sleep. I have a feeling that i sound a little bit as if my soul is trapped in a damp dungeon where my thoughts have gone stale and words gone grey. But that is not so. My soul is alight. So much so that it may give birth to a new solar system. So no cause for worry. All is well. Goodnight.

Monday, October 9, 2017

C'est la vie

Today was an emotionally exhausting day. The kind where your head hurts from crying too much but it is your heart that feels the fatigue. But. Thing about me is I feel tons better after a good cry. So I asked s2 to accompany me to grocery shopping. So we went out and treated ourselves to cheese sticks and dessert. There's comfort in shopping for basic necessities like a perfect box of cereal, new washroom slippers, fancy smelling shower stationery. I even got some walnuts and almonds for my bedside. I spent ten minutes in front of a giant pack of Bugles. Did not buy it. Did not buy any adipose inducing food. As of now I feel pretty healthy sipping on my Decaf Chinese herbal tea with lemon. satisfied sigh Head still hurts though.

 Until a few years ago, I used to (very naively, I might add) believe that any and every conflict can be solved through proper dialogue. Say the right things, set the right tone, pick the right time, right intentions right words, right everything and you can reach anybody. You can make them understand, constructive thoughts and ideas will be exchanged, a common ground will be reached and peace will prevail. BOY WAS I WRONG. I have now failed at enough conversations to learn that WAIT. Some times people just don't want to listen to your shit. It is not even about you. It's about them and a large number of variables that are not yours to tweak. You can't reach them. They won't let you. No matter how hard or long you try. And even though you might want to claw the skin off your face. (Out of frustration I mean) You have to know when to let go. Shed your words. Your carefully manicured phrases. Zip up your pocket full of tact. And walk away in grace.

 I abhor bad literature. Poem, prose, letters. Anything. Words that reek of desperation. Brimming with cliches. Save me.

 Today is a bright new day. I slept well. 12 full Hours sans the headache that always follows. Dreamed about having two babies. A girl and a boy. The girl, when I kissed her cheek, there was coffee on her face and on my lips. What does that mean? Is coffee my baby? Hmmm. I woke up and stretched in bed for an hour. Had a good breakfast and watched two episodes of my new guilty pleasure, Gossip girl. I know, I know. Un-raise your eyebrows. The room is cold and quiet. Yellow light and red sheets. Floral bed cover and cute pjs. Next to me is the book I’m currently reading and my grey journal that carries fragments of my unruly thoughts strung together with lightweight words that make everything sound rather glib. (It’s a curse I have to live with). So I am in a world of comfort you can say. Almost Pinterest worthy. One would think I feel fat with content right now. In a way I do. In a way I don’t.

October is here again. The beginning of winter. I have things to look forward to. I've come home for a bit. It's not as bad as i was dreading it would be. But i'm not too great at dealing with the feels i get every time i'm back in this house. A sense of loss? Nostalgia? Love? Groundedness? Loneliness? All of the above, most likely. I'll be staying here for a week, and then its a short trip to north with V, who is crossing oceans soon so we can make new memories. I'm looking forward to it. Rooftop talks and coffee and loud conversation. Re unions and surprises. I'm sure it's going to be wonderful.
I'm currently drained of social energy. Ah, i have too much on my mind right now.

I am never, hardly ever at rest. Somebody tone down my heart please? Thanks.


Monday, July 31, 2017

Cult of delusion.

I know people say a boring Sunday is a good Sunday, given that it's the one day of the week I get off from work. I get to sleep in and have an elaborate breakfast instead of the hurried one I gobble down every morning in neatly calculated time slots. But I like to have some activity or plan to look forward to on the weekend too. S2 says I'm ungrateful and I don't deserve free time.
 Today started out crappy. By 3 pm I thought to myself. Today is a bad Sunday. I woke up early as usual and while s2 was still asleep I decided to stay in bed and read for a bit. I dozed off again and woke up to s2 telling me that we had relatives over and that we were also out of bread. What? Way to ruin glorious Sunday morning vibes. Nothing is worse than relatives showing up unannounced. So I had to change out of my pjs into respectable clothes and delayed my breakfast till late afternoon. Got lectured by parents for one thing or the other. Didn't get to watch Dunkirk either. Bad Sunday yeah? So I mostly stayed in bed alternating between reading my novel and playing the sims on my phone. I hate it when my sims go to work on Sundays but we need the money so. Moving on. Day started looking up when s1 and A showed up. Anther relative also showed up and everyone got into a political discussion that was of great discomfort to me. Not because it was boring or anything. But because I could physically feel the strain that repeated (but forcefully polite, always polite, no offence) disagreements made worse by the awkward laugh now and then can put on a conversation. It went on for ever. But then food arrived and we moved on to ranting about work and all was well.
Now I'm back in bed and I'm going to probably finish this novel. Good riddance to be honest. There's something suffocating about it that I don't like.
I'm watching Anne with an E these days and Anne reminds me of Phoebe's boyfriend from Friends played by Alec Baldwin. Everything to her is scrumptious and glorious.
Next week is going to be hell. Work is going to be harder than fighting Balrog from the Mines of Moria. Hahaha. I'm so lame it's funny.
Also. I am not fond of abundant and careless expression of affection. Thank you. That will be all for now.