Lost and not yet found

Posted: June 15, 2013 in Uncategorized

It was early in the month of March. Location – Juhu, Mumbai.  One of those typical days when my roommates had gone off to sleep and I was enjoying the momentary peace, sitting by the window. I was lost somewhere so deep in my thoughts that it was becoming difficult for me to keep a track of them. And then like someone clubbed me in the head, it struck me that I am not half as awesome as I thought I would be. Let me rewind a few years.

When I was about 15-16, I was living in small town (Ghaziabad) near Delhi. I was a dreamer. I would often imagine what life would be like when I am older. This is how it was in my head. At the age of 24/25, I would be

  • A performing artist (dancer/theatre actor)
  • Living independently
  • Visit home frequently
  • Earning enough money to travel (frequently)
  • Actively perusing photography as a hobby
  • Content yet ambitious
  • Stunning
  • Somewhat known

Yes, I know we all have stupid expectations from life. But I guess I am still that stupid, for when I snapped back from my flashback, I fell into a bout of depression. This is what my life really was

  • Copywriter (Advertising whore)
  • Struggling to live independently
  • Struggling to manage expenses (forget about having some extra cash)
  • Abusing my body on account of stress
  • Abusing my body in the name of unwinding
  • A no-body struggler in Bombay

It’s true that being in Bombay was a dream and I am still proud that I made it. (Let’s leave that story for sometime else.) I romanticised the idea of struggling in Bombay to make myself a name. Yes, I didn’t mind the struggle because what Bombay gave me was way too precious – Freedom. And I under-used and abused it equally. But it was then that the realization struck me that I was stuck in a rut. And this feeling ate me up for a couple of months.

I decided it was time for a change. And it had to start with the change of the city. I left Bombay with a heavy heart and a strong intuition that I will be back.

I have made other changes too and am in the process of figuring out some more. It’s been about three weeks that I have been back home and not a single day passes when I don’t question my decision. For I still don’t know where I am heading. But I took the plunge. I still don’t know if what I have done is right or not. But somehow it felt that it needed to be done.

 

Mourning the death of a friendship

Posted: December 20, 2012 in feelings, friends, love, rant
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I know I’ve said it before. I know I’ve been there before. 

People leave.

And no circumstances, misunderstandings or any damn reason can justify it. Just, has to fucking happen. It’s the way it is. You love. You lose. End of the story. After all, you cannot force someone to stay with you. 

People fucking leave.

And the funny part is, I had this very same conversation, with the person in question, just a day before the shit when down. “The problem with me, ***, is that I trust people way too easily.” “Don’t we all? You can’t help it.” Can’t help it, my ass. 

Today, I mourn the death of a friendship. One that meant a lot to me. I tried. More that I should have. Silly me. I will still value you. But I won’t stay.

So, goodbye.

Cocktail Karma

Posted: May 18, 2012 in feelings, friends, love, madness
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It was Ladies Night at her favorite club. And how she loved free drinks. She fought to get everything out of her plate so that she could head there early. Of course, she didn’t care about how she looked. She never did. Her mantra: if you are comfortable, you WILL look good. She lived by it, every single day.

It was almost 8.30 when she rushed out of the office. Hmm, 2 hours to get hammered. So she intended, come what may. Also, it was her first time drinking alone. A little jittery but excited nonetheless. Who needs company when alcohol is by your side. Also, she was looking forward to leching at all the cute boys, open to the idea of getting it on.

It’s right about when the buzz started to kick in and the music got louder. She was in her happy place. She made friends. The only-for-the-night kinds. And there he was. Smiling. Dancing. Drinking. She thought it was innocent. It all starts like this.

She woke up next morning with a throbbing headache. All she remembered of that night was that the drinks never ended. Was she with someone? No, she went there alone. How did she get home? Wait, wasn’t she dancing with a cute boy?

And then she noticed. A needle mark on her arm.

The state of being.

Posted: April 18, 2012 in Uncategorized

I sit here in a corner off a busy street, under a faint yellow street light as the world passes me by. In a flash. As a constant. So many faces. So many, many voices. And it makes me wonder where do I fit in? Where is that mark with my name on it? is everything a part of the big picture? Is this place really a jigsaw puzzle where thing (eventually so) find their grooves that fit perfectly?

As I sit here, in a corner off a busy street, under a faint yellow street light – I see faces. I see stories- told, untold. And then, I see them. The ones who make me frown. I do recognize them from somewhere. I am positive that I do. And then it strikes you. They were a part of your story. But sadly, you aren’t a part of theirs.

In this moment, as I sit here, in a corner off a busy street, under a faint yellow street light I fail to fathom and loose myself in wonder…

Is it, am I really a part of the plan?

(This was actually written under a faint yellow street light, sitting in a corner off a busy street while I was waiting for a certain someone)

Posted: June 10, 2011 in feelings, madness, random, rant

Its a little scary how I just cant get myself to write anymore. No thought stays in my mind for me to actually put it in words. And that scares me. A little more than I’d like to admit.

Let me rephrase,
It all seems a haze
Faces, places and big spiral mazes
florescent, incandescent – a mighty blaze

Things that hold no meaning
are clutched close to heart
And the ones that did matter
lay crinkled, drenched and homeless.

Pieces of this puzzle
gather dust
While a loud, obnoxious song
blasts in the background.

As my train pulled into the Mumbai Central station, I felt a stab in my heart. This time around, there is no one to pick me up. And how I hate that feeling. It makes me feel somewhat lost. And the journey not quite worth it. But well.

I was moving towards the Taxi stand when I though to ditching it and taking the Local instead. Sun was high and bright though somthing seemed different today. The city seem to be unwelcoming. Is it like that with every soul that wonders to this city to find a place for itself. Dont think so, I scrap my own thoughts.

Maybe its just that the city brings some sour memories back to the surface. Picking on scabs. one might say. Time. I need some time. Till it stops bothering anymore.

Its a strange city. It cradles you as easy as it kicks you in the butt. Though I have been here for almost two years now and the city is now a part of me, I am not quite a part of the city yet.

Wait is till the evening now. There shall be some drinking involved. =)

Sometimes I do wonder if loving anyone at all is worth it, even a bit. I mean, you give it all you’ve got. Love. Forgiveness. Anger. Hate. Expectations. Space. Tolerance. And the likes. You do stuff that you usually wont do for anyone else. You suffer. You cry. You put on a face. Et al. Going completly crazy to see just that one little smile on your loved one’s face. You change. You adjust. You accept. And hopefully so does your loved one. But even if they dont, you somehow accept it. And dont really pay attention to that faint ‘why’ that your brain asks you.

All this for what?! Yea, you have fun while its still there. Great moments. Memories to die for. Memories that make you smile when you think that the world is a dark, dingy place. That perfect something to lift you up. Just a phone call or a hug or a smile makes you feel better.

But in the end, everyone leaves. Either they find someone better or they change and become someone completly different or they simply die on you.

And then what are you left with? Those memories that once were your treasured possessions and now just a reminder that its no more. Or those silly/thoughtful/random gifts that now you don’t know what to do with them. Or just the pages of your diary that so intimately know exactly how much it meant.

Is it really worth it? Thats something I constantly question as I am still trying to get over my 2-year-long relationship that just ended as abruptly as it started. And perhaps, thats one question I will never find an answer to.

But one thing I know for sure, in the end…its just YOU who sticks with you.