‘Coffee this evening?’

Hazy lights, fast cars and the drizzle. That’s all she remembered, that’s all that she cared about, that’s all she should care about. So then, why did her mind keep fleeting back to those hands? She had held them with so much fervour, she had felt so much in those fifteen seconds, she had squeezed them so tightly; like there was no today and like there was no one else as important as him, in that particular moment, that moment where time lost its worth.

Maya knew something had changed. She could recall the songs that played on the radio. She could feel his hair brush across her face. She could smell him; a mixture of alcohol and perspiration. She wanted to know every detail. She needed to every detail.

‘Listen, what if it is all a mistake?’, she asked her sister.
‘Nothing is ever wrong, when you remember how he smelt!’ Sanaya was busy filing her nails, without paying much attention to the apparently vague description Maya had offered.

Maya sank back into her bed and under the blanket. It was cold. Was it cold that night too? She didn’t remember shivering, at least not because of the chill. She shuddered. Who was he? What had he done to her? Was she right in feeling happy or was it a misplaced emotion?

She stared at her cell phone. He had texted over an hour ago, it still remained unopened. The last time she checked, he had sent a virtual kiss. Why?

‘Maya, man just have fun with him. He’s giving you a golden opportunity’ Sanaya retorted suddenly, taking Maya by utter surprise. The phone fell down, switched off. Maya hurried to take it off the ground and switched it on. She opened the message.
Meet me today?
Maya’s fingers trembled. She couldn’t.

She felt her heart reach her mouth. This is not fine. This is not fun. I don’t have fun. How can a relationship be fun when he’s already in a semi-relationship with someone who wasn’t her?

She rushed to the washroom. Cried. Washed her face and returned. Sanaya saw it happen but did not react. Maya silently thanked her for not asking what happened.
‘What is his name?’
‘Let it be.’ Maya didn’t want to take his name, for fear of making it real.
‘Wow. His parents sure loved The Beatles’
‘Shut up!’

Maya laughed and lightened up. She replied to his text message saying she would meet him that evening. In her head, she decided to say everything to him clearly, to his face; that she is the emo kind of girl, the kind of girl who falls for her benifit-buddy, the kind who fucks up friendships cause she falls in love too easily, the kind who needs love.
Sanaya begged her sister to grow up.

He never made it to the evening coffee, she slept through the night. He texted her a few more kisses.

The next week went by with random conversations. She never mentioned to him, what she had planned to. He kept playing the kiss card. She kept falling for him a little more, with each kiss. She went back to that night again..
Glazed eyes, the high of weed, the spilled alcohol, the broken glass and stripped off clothes. She remembered pushing him away, she remembered going closer. She remembered the feel of his hand against her body. She remembered getting up and leaving. And him following. And then, the drive. The shortest drive from one lane to the other. The most beautiful drive with the prettiest lights. 
Maya pinched herself, she went out into the drizzle and stood there till she was wet and till she could feel the shiver again. She looked at her phone. Had he messaged? She kept checking. She kept waiting.

Months passed by. Maya forgot about the night. She took it as an adventure. She was happy that it had happened and glad that it was over. He couldn’t possibly be interested in her, she wasn’t as hot as his fiancé and she wasnt as beautiful as his ex girlfriend. She didn’t even like the same songs, surely they couldn’t be a good match!
But she still waited, without expecting much. She was used to it, by now. The ones she liked never liked her the way she wanted them too. The ones who liked her were never good enough.

Months passed. She got one more virtual kiss. Her heart fluttered. An unknown number. Who is this? Who else, Maya, who else?
A tear rolled down her cheek. Was it a joke? Isn’t he supposed to be married? No he wasn’t. So? She can’t go through it again. Meet me. Okay, she decided.

He made it to the coffee shop this time, with tulips in hand, and lilies. He wasnt sure which she liked. She walked in, hassled, because of the mud and monsoon. He loved the rains. She looked at him, he held her glance. She moved closer. They kissed. This time, she felt it. She felt all of it and everything came rushing back; the night, the touch, the moves, the taste and it was wonderful. It was beautiful and yummy! He had touched her hair that night, he had felt her cheeks.

What happened, no fiancé? Could he not go through with it? She never asked him because she knew she did not want to know the answers. She was happy to be in his arms, she was happy he hadn’t left her. Sanaya was wrong, that kiss was not just fun.

He looked at her and told her just one thing, and the world as she knew it, changed.
‘That was for all the virtual ones I sent to you. Thanks for being such a sport! I never knew girls could keep their emotions away from kisses! Here, see the ring I’m gonna give to her tomorrow.’

That coffee they had together? It was bitter.

Post Break-up Syndrome.

The world seems to be collapsing around you while you desperately try holding onto whatever you can lay your hands on- his favourite band, his favourite poem, the book he last dog-eared or the perfume you never really liked. You look around your room and spot his nail cutter on your dressing table or you look at an advertisement you had both laughed at, together, and then it happens- you feel a rush of tears stinging your eyes, your cheeks go warm and you repent your decision of ending things with him.
He wasn’t that bad after all, was he? All he wanted was for you to cut your hair or grow your nails. All you had complained of was him being an hour late sometimes and surely that can be worked out. All the differences and reasons for the ‘premature’ termination of your relationship begin to seem superfluous and frankly, childish. There is nothing a glass of wine and good conversation cannot sort out, is there? This is the Post Break-up Syndrome.  It is characterised by reckless dating, excessive drinking, excessive shopping, stalking your ex boyfriends, a high sugar diet, self-doubt, prolonged sleeping hours, regret, irritation, reading break-up quotations online, understanding song lyrics and most of all, the need to get back.

So, you call your best friend and ask her if the haste made waste, if the dog pooped early, if…okay, I am out of metaphors. Simply put, you ask her if you were wrong. She will not give you advice but hear you out while you figure out your own mess and while talking to her, and in turn talking to yourself, you hear the reasons out loud and you realise that the decision was in fact right. A difficult choice to live with, but a correct one indeed.

So how does one get over a significant other? You can delete his number, block him on facebook and hide the photographs. You can remove his physical presence from your life, you can pretend that he doesn’t exist and all of this will go on perfectly fine till that one day where you suddenly listen to a song you both danced to, or an old message in you inbox that got ignored while you were on a deleting spree or the news of him dating someone else reaches you. The world will be a perfectly rotating spheroid TILL THAT DAY, after which all his ticks and non-sensical habit will make sense. You will see that you’ve grown and have matured enough to accept the mistakes he had made 7 months back and you will ache to get him back but it is too late. He has moved on, probably as painstakingly as you have (or may be not) and he won the break-up game.

But that’s what popular belief says; that the one who dates first is the winner. I do not agree- I believe that the one who ends up happiest is the winner. Yes, there will be hiccups in getting over him (for god’s sake you loved him once upon a fairytale time ago) and you will question the choices you made. Yes, there might be a chance that ending it was a mistake, you probably should have waited a day or two more, maybe just maybe things would have turned around.

And then you will read something. Something so life-changing that you feel happy and light, like cotton. You’re a reader and he was not. You sing in the shower while he just, showered. You asked philosophical questions and answered them with candy-floss analogies while his dream interview is with Smith and Wesson. You looked at the stars, he saw the dark, dark sky. And then, you call your best friend again, to share your epiphany and she calmly makes you understand that two halves make a whole. That, while you focussed on the stars and he looked at their background, while you read all the time, he read the newspaper (and that’s the point where you make a face and disagree- newspaper is not reading duh!).
Then, once your BFF is done explaining to you why opposites attract, you say just a few sentences to her and she knows that you’ve won the argument-

I need a man who knows what poetry is, how beautifully one sentence flows into another. I need a man who carries a handkerchief with him, not to wipe off my tears but to clean the ketchup that I accidentally dropped on his shirt. I need a man who reads out Beethoven to me, instead of making me listen to his symphonies. I need a man who can make me lose an argument. I need a man who shuts me up by kissing me. I need a man who understands my fascination with House. MD. I need a man whose words seem like a song, whose voice makes me tingle. I don’t get that in him, sweetheart. I get a lot of other things, but not these. I can put in a handkerchief in his pocket and make him watch sitcoms but can I make him feel the beauty of Haiku? Can I make him stir his soul like a good book stirs mine? I am incapable, not him.

Till the time you reach an epiphany, the post break-up syndrome continues.

-All the best, I hope this helped. And if it did not, boo hoo, just start to not care and you’ll soon find another jerk who’ll also leave you 🙂


Is the world big enough?

How big is the world? How big does it have to be to matter? To me, the world with all its gazillion people, is already too big to be ignored and Fortunately or unfortunately, the world does matter to me. It is officially, too big to be ignored. I cannot possibly understand how anyone could say ‘I do not give a shit’, because whoever says so LIES. Everybody lies. The world is too big and you are too small. The world doesn’t give a shit about you not giving a shit, if that makes sense.

It definitely means something to me if someone is hesitant, not unwilling but hesitant, to let me into their world. I am nineteen and there are high chances of me having met you after the better part of you has been nurtured, wired and programmed to behave in a certain manner. And that is perfectly fine. Even I have my tantrums and setbacks, I have my thoughts in a twisted concocted manner which are sometimes far beyond what people expect off me. But we are two different people and differences are welcome as long as we decide to work upon them and turn them into something that would unite us. Okay, no that isn’t possible I know. But we could at least try, right?

the world is big enough to matter. And I am old enough to matter as well. So if you want me in your life you might as well tighten your belts, pull up your socks and do all the other wardrobe stuff and bloody well make me feel a part of it. Words, they are stronger than texts and actions, they are stronger than words. And hugs? They are the strongest! Take the first step and for once, don’t make me give you the surprise. For once, make me feel like the lady. Make me feel less like the man in charge and more like the damsel to be rescued (no, i am not in distress). If you’re my friend then send me an essay about us. If you like me then tell me. If you don’t, then might as well say that and end the facade. ANd friend, if an essay is too much, then just make a plan to meet up with me.

You are a but a tiny speck in the world, but hell, without you the world, my world is incomplete. So you better feel like yours is incomplete sans me.


– Love & extremely tangled!

It is so awesome to be:

Blushing again.
Dreaming again.
Smiling for no reason.
Spacing out.
Did I say blushing?
Thinking like a doofus.
Feeling like a princess.
Checking the phone for texts.
Checking facebook for pictures.
Calling late at night.
Skyping late at night.
Listening to songs.
Listening to classy songs.
Listening to girly songs.
Finally understanding the meaning.
Then smiling.
Then blushing.
Then covering your face.
Liking silly updates.
Then feeling silly.
Then smiling again.
Gushing about someone.
Feeling super happy.
Feeling super duper happy.
Jumping on the bed with my room mate. Just.

It is so awesome to feel these things again. To have a crush.


-to being tangled ❤

Show love. See love.

This song has been on my phone for less than a few weeks and it already ranks right there at the top with I will follow you into the dark and Fix you. It is somehow very compatible with what I have been through in the last few days. And it is so true.

Don’t cry for your love. Cry tears of joy. ‘Cause you’re alive, cradled in love.

Everytime I feel negativity and I feel sad thoughts enter into my soul, I imagine all the love that I get..I feel all the love that I wish I would get. And then I ‘know’ that I am loved. And I feel happy. All the melancholy and the blues turn into bright oranges and yellows! It is such a beautiful feeling to know how it is to be loved, isn’t it? Love. We type cast it into merely a boy-girl relationship whereas infact, it is so much more than just that. Love is such a vast feeling, that it is not possible for us, mortals, to understand it completely. And here we are, proclaiming ourselves to be maestros in this field when in reality, we know squat!

What is love? Is it what I see my mother feel for me or is it what I feel for my best friend? Don’t I love animals, or perhaps my grandmom?
They always end up saying ‘No, I dont love you like that.’ Well, tough luck, there is just ONE kind of love and that is true love. Love can be nothing but pure. So when you say that you ‘love’ someone, anyone, mean it. Don’t be frivoulous with it. Don’t use it all the time and dont be stringent with its usage either. Be wise. Even a child feels love, but the child expresses it in ways which are far wiser than ours. Innit?

Gifting roses and writing ballads isn’t how one shows love. Sure, they are one of the hundred trillion ways to express love to someone but they aren’t IT, if you know what I mean. Love needs to be expressed in small, subtle ways. And, those subtlties need to be understood and appreciated.

As important as it is to express love and caring, it is equally important to understand when it is being shown (or not) to you. Everyone will not go down on their knees and every child will not make you birthday cards just because you are their teacher. We need to understand the love that is being given to us. Also, we need to remember that just because someone is showing love he/she needn’t truly love us. Of course now, that isn’t always the case.

And I emphasise again, this isn’t the teenage or boyfriend-girlfriend love I am referring to. This is love, in general, for your parents, siblings, friends, pets, gadgets (?), sugar spice and everything nice!

I have learnt to see love when it is given to me. I was ignorant, initially and i still am naive but i am getting there. I used to expect it to be shown in the forms that we are all used to but not everyone is a jigsaw that will fit into your pre-formed mould. Every once in a while, a special person walks into your life who’ll show you his (or her) love in ways that you haven’t ever seen before and you’ll just have to be intelligent and understand them. you will have chip your jigsaw and make place for that person and let him or her in. And you gotta stop making that person fall into the cliched norms..accept their ways.

He may not call you in the middle of the night to proclaim his love for you. She may not knit you sweaters. He may not fight for you. She may not cuddle.
But.. he will silently feel bad when you’re upset and she will scold you because you smoke. And he will make sure you’re comfortable while you sleep and she will wait for you to get back home before she eats. Saying an I love you isn’t what showing love is.
Showing love is far simpler. And, actions speak louder than words. It is in the everyday actions. Every time he winks, every time a kindergartener makes you a card, everytime a dog licks your face, everytime she holds your hand before tripping shows that they trust you, that they care, that they love you.

Stop imagining your life to be a movie. It is not. It is better. There may not be background music and there may not be drama but it is life. And life is beautiful, nonetheless and it is bursting over the seams with love!

You just got to see it. And since romance is the lobe we best understand, I used that example to explain how love is grossly misunderstood. Love is you and me and everything in between 🙂


-stay loved.

V for Vhat?

V for Vhat is the eternal buzz. The eternal buzz of the mind, that is. It is funny, how we all say that the brain is responsible for our thoughts and actions and everything that we do. But what we forget is, most of the times it is our heart that controls the brain. Ofcourse, not scientifically cuz that would actually be a part of the brain controlling the whole of it.. What I mean is that, emotions control our logic. We justify everything to ourselves (and others) based on how we would WANT to feel. Atleast I do.

Its funny how emotions dictate most of the things that we do. If I were to go outside of my body and actually see all the things I were doing/ thinking, I’m so sure that I would die laughing. This out-body experience isn’t something I would advocate unless in dire circumstances. I am in one, so I will use this. Lets see. I fell for someone hopelessly. Made him the centre of my world for a few days. Met him. Fell deeply. He hit me like I was some kind of annoying fly. My wing got bruised. I fell, but this time not the kind of falling we all like. And I walked away, limping. But that is what I ‘think’ happened.

What if, in reality, I wasn’t an annoying fly in his life? What if, he was just being a person who acts sensibly? Surely my judgements had been clouded by what my emotions for him were. I made him the centre of my universe..but I might’ve just been a fringe in his world. Right? I was imposing myself. He was, infact, such a gentleman. Met me, satfisfied my urge to ‘see’ before ‘fall’. He couldn’t have been more gracious about the sudden impingement I had enforced on him. He couldn’t have been more complying. He did all that he could, for someone on the fringe and I take my hat off to him and bow.

I hope and wish and Pray that someday I’d reach a perigee in his life. No, not because I used to like him but because he is a person worth knowing. He is an enlightened person, more for me because I know nothing about his world of art and his expression of life. I want to learn and I want to grow. That is why I want to be a part of his life instead of making him a part of mine. No, friendship is far too small a term to explain what I want. I need a give-take bond. He gives and I take, like a puppy waiting for the master to return home.

I salute him..for taking my bullshit. Though I hope he took it with a pinch of salt. I don’t always mean what I say. I don’t always get pissed off. I don’t always talk shallow. I have my weak moments but there are those epic moments where I rise outside myself and look at the world with a different perspective. I did that, today, for him. And I think I deserve a pat on my back for trying to understand someone else’s world, someone else’s actions and trying to justify it all in THEIR favour instead of trying to just prove him to be wrong.

For the first time, it would be MY loss and not his. I wish I wish, he reads this. I wish.


Do or Don’t, you still Die.

There are so many photographs all around tumblr, Facebook, twitter telling us to –
‘Miss someone- call. Want someone- ask. Love someone-say it’ etc..you get the drift. But now that I face one of those questions/ situations/ moments/ crisis I dont really know if ‘following my heart’ and ‘going with the flow’ would be absolutely correct. I mean, what I would like to do is insane and what I am doing is, well, nothing.

But that’s because doing nothing is wise! Texting him like a school-going bubblegummer would be stupidity, right? There is this really close friend I have and she’s several continents away so I can’t ask her what I’m supposed to do. But I need to know.
If I want to talk to someone, should I ‘just message’ and look like a dufus or should I wait it out and ‘ppretend’ that oh well, I have a life and that he’s not the temporary centre of my universe? Gaa. I’ve always been so sure of everything and this one area of life, where the head is as essesntial as the heart, dear ol’ God decideds to take it all away from me and turns me into a mumbling whacko.

Yeah yeah, I know everyone would just tell me to text and I would like to tell them that ‘Whoo ego’ is not what’s keeping from doing it. Also, I fought with my bff and I don’t think I’m gunna be talking to her for sometime to come SO, I need help! Crushes are madness and I havent really been mad for 2 years now. 😛

-see. i told you- wireswilltangle.