Floodgates

A floodgate opens by, of memories rushing hither

Within that diary, my emotions nearing wither.

‘Twas us against the world, a battle was fought.

Left you strong, but I was broken and distraught.

What do I do with these papers and this ink?

The dusty fabric has secrets aplenty, you ‘d blink.

There was love there, and tenderness and care.

But then, you made clear, those feelings you did not share.

It took me time, a great deal of distance.

And here I am, relishing my sustenance.

Yellowed pages, dogeared ends..

They call out to me, and show me the bends.

Of lies, betrayal, heartache, and all the evil rest.

Move on, Life did, for it always knows what’s best.

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Sunday Morning Shenanigans 

  1. I wake up groggy eyed and disoriented from some strange dreams. I dreamt about how my vegetarian flat mate is back after a long holiday and she’s scrubbed the fridge clean of any traces of chicken and egg. I’m slightly guilty but annoyed that I didn’t take necessary precautions and hide / finish the stuff earlier. I get out of bed, and it’s too quiet, there are no bags in the hallway. So she isn’t really here. Go back to the drugged sleep. To wake up in another world where my cousin has an interview lined up and I have to report for my internship duties at a social media firm. It’s close to eleven and I’m so late. It’s around twelve when I’m ready and I’m thinking of excuses to convince the boss I wasn’t coming late for fun. 
  2. The reason for this drugged, still sleepy feeling is probably the oil on my mane. It’s raining like crazy outside and I have no intention of moving from the balcony into the shower. I guess we’ll let nature take its time with the downpour and watch and listen to the sounds. 
  3. That’s my view. Our maid has kept the spare umbrella in the balcony and that’s sort of blocking my view. 

  4. We don’t have any onion or tomatoes. I am not sure what I’ll do for lunch. Or breakfast. But I do not have the mental capacity to think so far ahead. 
  5. Its a four day work week and that makes me happy. So yaaay. 

That’s all, folks, from this sleepy, 25-year  old. I’m busy taking baby steps to know or tell you any more. Adios. 

Transitions

Bidding adieu sucks but you’ve got to do it because transitions make you grow…

Hi readers,

I must admit that what I actually set out to do while writing the previous post was not to write it. Nah-uh, I actually wanted something to surpass the older posts and instead of coming up with something new, something non poetic, I ended up publishing a half-written draft in my sleep. 

Now that my royally loyal reader HashBrownie has asked me what I’m made of, I think it’s time to take a break from that bubble of procrastination and step out into the sunshine!

Here’s what’s been going on.

Two years of college are coming to an end. That’s bidding adieu to two of the best years of life.

I know it’s not easy to measure yardsticks when you talk of ‘best days’.

Think about having beautiful sunsets as the backdrop of your home, evenings that start off as hot and sultry but if you’re not careful, end up feeling frost bitingly cold.

Think about living in spacious rooms, (with balconies to sip tea in, mind you) with pleasant roomies who just let you be. (Warts, farts, darts et al).

Think about the cold coffee, hot coffee, ice cream sandwich, and the gulab jamuns at the mess.

Think of the people who you surround yourself with. Those who make you smile and laugh and cry at the same time.

Friends who instil a dependency on you that makes you realise you are important. Friends who you thought were loud and bossy but actually ended up loving and living with. Friends who you fell in love with, despite their stupidest idiosyncracies.

Yes. The hills were alive to all these sounds and intuitions. They’ve seen my sweat, my tears, and my joys. It’s honestly satisfying to see that you make a difference.

The belief that Sometimes, actually, most times, your integrity and work will suffice.

Anyway. As I step out of this beautiful place I called home for two years, I know I will always call it home. The home that grew on me and steadied me to a future I didn’t think I could have, I’ve only got the deepest sense of gratitude for this experience. To all the forces of the universe, who made it happen.

My peers are off on a spree of rants about how much they’ll miss this place. Interestingly, I finished this nostalgia in the third semester, with my besties around me. Everyday I’d look out and go ‘Daaamn, I’ve got to move on from this. How does one do that?’

I think I’ve found my answer. You get to transition from your phases in life when you have the hope to find better.

Every time you are down, remember, there’s something that’s been eluding you but it can be yours, with some dedication, effort and time.

Find your homes, not in the four walls of a building but find your homes in people. It’s people that make you want to believe in the best of you. It’s people, who will be there for you. and then you’ll know, goodbyes won’t be hard. They’ll just be something that you have got to do.

Find you home and then you’ll know. Goodbyes won’t be hard. They’ll just be something that you have got to do.

This is me bidding adieu to college life as I had known and loved. 

Here’s to newer and more enriching things in life to all of us.

Life Is Beautiful. Believe It. And You’ll Feel It.

It’s truly been the end of an era.

Adios, SIMC.

Thoughts…

You remember those pretend games that you played in childhood? Building forts made out of sheets, cushions, empty boxes and myriad shades of your mom’s dupattas and sarees? At some point in time, every one of us usually has played such games where you pretend you’re living in a small universe of your own, a cocoon in the seeming vastness of your home.

Who said they were restricted to childhood? Look around you and you’ll still see walls, albeit they are invisible. Everybody has walls. Some may admit it and some won’t but they are usually there, lurking in a strange anticipation of forbearance – one wrong move from your side and they’ll slide back in place faster than you can say walls.

Why do we have walls?

I’m no expert on psychology and I probably have the worst clairvoyance when it comes to predicting people. Can say that with some experience – the people whom I thought I’d never get along at first meeting, are the ones who’ve become imperative to my survival. Of course, at the end of the day you’re all alone but then there are fleeting seconds when these people, they just make your day. They make you feel so genuinely alive – it’s a marvellous feeling what people bring on in each other.

Oh, walls. Basically, they are to protect the tender hearts from the harsh existence of reality.

As I type this, I’m sitting in my own fort – obscured from plenty of prying eyes, I’ve converted my balcony into a mini fort. It feels pretty amazing and I can hear loud music with great tempo – too bad the grounds are so dusty. I nearly sneezed a large furball of dust after having temporarily jumped to the DJ’s tune. I realised that I was not able to capitalise on the moment wholly. Hey, to think about it, during the crappy engineering days when we had those weird holidays called fests (True to its name, Swayam was only attended by swayam us college dwellers, nobody else bothered to travel to this derelict location in the outskirts of Bangalore, a mile away from the jewel of the city – the first famous IT Park of Bangalore), there was a barricade placed to allow either of the genders to dance on either sides. Right, so much for living in the modern world.

I’ve often wondered whether under normal circumstance as you are overtaken by thoughts that may not seem related, would there ever be a period of blank? Yes, meditation seems to be the perfect answer to this. But I’m not looking to consciously streamline them. Let your thoughts flow and you will realise that everything eventually connects and you’re off leagues away from the inception. Yes, now you understand the randomness of this post?

 

Time will tell, or will it?

I’m sitting in the middle of the playing field. There’s a cricket match going on ahead of me and there are enthusiasts flying kites behind me. I’m caught in a pensive mood. The kite flies over me and a tiny bird flies with it too. It looks beautiful, a perfect evening.
There’s a lot of work to be done but I’ll just strategize now. The effort will be put at the nth moment.

The guys flying the kites are so happy.

Now I know why. The whee-whee got to me and I joined in the hullabaloo. Getting a kite high up is a difficult job but once it’s up, it’s simply amazing. I held the quivering string in my hand and it felt so liberating. Ironic because the kite is bound to me and I’m not letting it free really. If you think about it, that’s rather sad. However, let’s leave it at the liberating bit. Don’t want to get too caught up now, do we?

It’s been close to a week since I got back to college and I’m food sick. The feeling of blah-ness that you get when you look at the mess menu, you cannot understand it unless you experience it and so I went to the city yesterday to quench my thirst for a tender coconut. Yell-neer or nariyal pani has been an organic comfort food for me from the very beginning.

My association with this goes back a long way when I was about 6 years old. I lived in the south end of Bangalore then and there was a strong, hefty woman who would hack mercilessly at the edges of a big coconut and offer the sweetest ones to me. It was 7 bucks back then, a far cry from what it is today. It’s safe to say that I was

It’s safe to say that I was happily addicted and loved both, the sweet drink and the artistic way in which hewed it. Why, at some point, before flying back to Saudi, I remember telling Dad that we must explain to the lady, why we won’t be back for our daily routine for a long time. Dad was pretty alarmed, he obviously didn’t think it wise to disclose personal matters to strangers. I didn’t understand it back then, why not? Don’t you think she’d miss her regular customer I wanted to ask.I’d become so like him some day.

How was I to know that this is a life learning… You rarely say goodbye to people, some just drift away and you’re left with a quivering string..

I’m not here to talk about the benefits of tender coconut really. I just needed to get some stuff out of my head. There’s enough entertainment in it to last me a while. I just dreamt that Reya had flown off to Iceland and was enjoying the blissful locales at -18 degrees celcius. Yeah, who remembers details like that?

I haven’t read a book since the new year began and I’ve been suffused with a lot of strange thoughts. Changing relationships, inexplicable feelings, un-called for sentiments…Perhaps its is true that you only think so much when you are in a deep and seemingly un-intellectual stage, aka, the stirrings of depression.

I love the mornings here. I don’t normally pray but when I see the sun rising here, the horizon becomes so beautiful that a prayer of gratitude usually comes into my mind before I know what has happened.

It’s a great place to be… but this boat too will be rocked. Sooner than I think, or later… things will evolve. At that time, how strong will I be? How will you cope?Only time will tel.

How will you cope with changing environs and unsteady tides?

Perhaps time may tell…