Aaah! :(

What I wouldn’t do to be in Pune right now. Two of the people who mean the most to me are there and I could literally give an arm to go there asap!
My best friend has chicken pox and I really want to give her a hug. I want to sit and draw things with her and learn The Cup Song.
And my stud boy is achieving all these major feats in his college and I want to be a part of it too. He’s doing what he’s always wanted to and that makes me so happy!

I wish I could to there, just, that’s all I wish. As soon as possible.
I owe it to them, more than anything. I did not see my BFF’s college in Delhi and I haven’t seen stud-boy’s college the way I want to, per se. And they’ve both been more than enthusiastic, and have travelled with me to mine, albeit it’s closer to home than the distance I have to travel to see theirs. Ha!

Aaaah! I miss them so much 😦
I’d travel for a day just to be there for a day. *ptch*



It isn’t love, my word.

She knew he was incapacitated. She wanted to help him and she knew exactly how. He needed to write and she knew what a writer needs; fresh air, a walk, deep breaths and someone to hold his hand, to make him walk, to make him breathe, to make him write.
The wind beat against her face, her hair unkempt.
“Come on, close your eyes.”
He looked confused, but obliged her anyway. He knew she meant well, her ways were always a little obscure and obtuse, so he closed his eyes and felt her presence behind him. What was he supposed to do after closing his eyes?
“Now, breathe in.” She commanded him from behind, as if almost reading into his mind, while sheltering herself from the drizzle. They were on the terrace, high above the ground from where people looked like their miniscule self. She looked at him do exactly what she asked him to. She knew he was caught with his guard off, she knew he was lost. His ways were too straight, she needed to make him bend.

She slipped her hand into his; guiding him toward a destination only he knew the road to.

“Come, join me.” He felt her hand tighten the squeeze around his fingers.
“I don’t need that. You do. This is your journey.” She knew he would flutter initially but she also knew he would soon find his way. She let go of his hand and stood in front of him. His hands were on the boundary wall. She slipped herself under one arm and he opened his eyes. He had questions, she knew. He had the answers, she knew that too. They were face to face.

“Don’t open them!” He sighed and closed them again. The vertigo got to him; he held her waist to get some semblance to his blank, black world. Her hair brushed his chin as she rested her head on his shoulder.
“What am I supposed to do, Maya?”
“But, write how, write what?”
“You will figure it out”

She always left him without any guidelines. Her world was such; no rules, no followers and everyone eventually reached where they were supposed to. He had come to understand her over the past few months. The ways in which her mind worked were simple yet layered, easy yet deep. His was a more one dimensional approach- food, beer and work. His life was what he wrote and she had breezed into his life with exactly that- her words. He was a simple man too, like her, but he knew he was simple, unlike her. She always wanted to think of herself as the opposite, as someone who was difficult. Maybe she was, but he understood her like a bird understands flight.

He stood there, thinking about the curve of her waist, the fragrance of her hair and the immense desire she had…desire of what, he could never fathom. He moved his hands as she shuffled to a more comfortable position and words began to flow out like poetry, gradually, just like she had promised they would. He opened his eyes.

“ I have something. You know, Maya, I always have something, but I can never put them to words.” She knew what he was going through. She smiled and closed her eyes too and just before she did, she spotted a firefly. He saw it too. She lifted her head, close to his ears and ever so softly, he felt her breath brush through his skin.
“This is your story. This is your world. This is all yours.” She whispered to him, while he felt his poetry jumble into words. His eyes, closed again, he felt exactly what she wanted him to feel. She stepped closer, stood up straight. His hand tightened around her waist. She moves, he falls. Her lips touched his ear while she spoke in a whisper.
“This is your time, this is the moment. What do you want to write, Dhruv? What do you think should happen next?”


The unattainable

There exist a surprising number of objects/ people that are there, which aren’t ours even if we try our mightiest. And at the same time, there are things/ people right within our reach that we disregard, primarily due to their availability. So, what is it about elusive that draws us toward the starry eyed, mysterious person or the glittery ball of dust?

Yes, we are innately curious and inherently inquisitive but till when is it okay to run after that which was never ours in the first place? When is it the time to give a chance to that which is surrounding us, and not somebody else? When is it time to let go and let it be?

Now. The answer to everything is right now. The only problem with that is, the elusive is, sometimes, exactly what we need and we never knew that it’s what we needed. THAT  is what drives us toward the unknown, and also what drives us crazy.
What if, what if what we leave untasted, untested is exactly what we yearn for?

I guess, we’ll never know. We’ll never know. Never. ‘Cause it was never ours to begin with. : )




You think a thought and then two more

You think of a word, then a few more

Then, there are billion others that burst

And they all collapse,

Before you can catch them, they fall

Shattered to smithereens, leaving just

Their fluorescent afterglow.

You move to stand, and the some more

You turn to the right, the a bit more

Then, you face your past eye to eye

And you fall,

Before you can balance, you’re at

The edge of your imagination, a battle

Between the could and should.

Your lips curve, then a hint more

Your shadow stirs, a shade more

Then you let it go, slowly

And you soar,

The lightness made you high, do you

Fall or do you fly? You choose to fall,

The colours return, to let your words precipitate.

And then you think a little bit more

And you use the words from before

The fluorescent afterglow, still there

You see it, then,

The unending loop, the brilliant colours,

The battle is won, you smile freely

Your shadow is as faithful as ever.


I didn’t want this poem to get lost in translation. I’ll let you have my interpretation of it. Often times, we are faced with difficult choices. To come to look at it from an outsiders perspective, the choices are actually very simple but we find them tough simply because of what we have experienced/ endured/ undergone in the past.

The first paragraph introduces the choice, the brilliance of the world around you when you see a new love, the colour of the trees in spring letting go of winter, anything at all. Everything new has a vibrance related to it. And you run towards it, only to see your problems haunt you, the problem from the past.

The second paragraph brings us face to face with the past. Why you felt what you felt when you saw the ‘new’. Should you try it, or is it a sin? Will you be betrayed again or will you be the one who betrays this time? Will the vibrance last?

The third paragraph is where you choose. The options were always between letting go and holding on. You let go.

The fourth, is about how you convey it. The ‘new’ needs to know it has been accepted. That’s when you realise, that it was never new… it was always your perception that made it new.

Let me know how else one could explain this. 🙂
– let go.