Posted in close to heart

Not(e) in the mood- 20

It’s a little bit horrifying just how quickly everything can fall to crap. You are thick friends on one day and then in a moment it all changes. Sometimes it takes a huge loss to remind you of who you care about the most. Sometimes you find yourself becoming stronger as a result; wiser, better equipped to deal with the next disaster that comes along. Sometimes, but not always.So when exactly do you decide to give up trying? Admit that a lost cause is sometimes just that? There comes a point when it all becomes too much. When we get too tired to fight anymore. So we give up. That’s when the real work begins. To find hope where there seems to be absolutely none at all. And lets all just remember this always, nobody chooses to be a freak, to commit mistakes. Most people don’t realize they’re a freak and have committed a heinous crime until it’s way too late to change it. No matter how much of a freak you end up being, chances are there’s still someone out there for you. Unless of course, they’ve already moved on. There is also a chance that you fight for the relation to work and you realise that you are the only one who seems to want it to work and then you give it all up. Because when it comes to time and relationships, even freaks can’t wait forever.

Posted in m@dness

Of Friends and more

As you know, my life’s changing! Too many things to do in a day and very less time!  Last night I was noticing how I haven’t talked with my girl friends for so long. Then I got to thinking, maybe I didn’t have as many girl friends as I thought. Where have all my girl friends gone? Why are they missing when am taking that big leap?

I understand that the world doesnt stand still. I get it that everyone has a life. Priorities change and so do people. People go to work, get married, start families etc but is it actually right to make that an excuse to not spend time with friends who were there when you were down in the dumps? Do friends come to us according to our needs? When we need them? Or do we cultivate them so that they can be there when we need them? If we cultivate our friends and invest in them, then why do so many friendships break up even after years of being friends whereas new friends seem closer to you than family?

It’s a strange universe of fickle friendships. At one point I felt I had so many friends that I could barely keep up with them. People who I could have coffee with, friends who would come home and sit for hours, friends who would drive for hours just to spend time together, movie friends, shopping friends, happy friends, sad friends etc..

Then suddenly the world changed. Friends moved on. New people came into my life. They weren’t  exactly what i;d call friends. Old friends found new friends. I wondered if I had “invested” enough? Hadn’t I done what was needed to rely on them? Or was it another expectation from life that was being tested for me to understand that one cannot have ANY expectation. That maybe “friends” are like the weather. You can’t predict when they’ll be sunny and when they’ll be moody.

My father though seems to have several  friends from work, from the football playing boy gang that he and my uncles shared and even friends from 40 years ago!! Is he doing something different that our generation hasn’t understood? We have come into an era where friends are there according to what we need from them. So friends from work will be thick since they share common environments, moms with kids will bond since they have a common topic to speak about, and women in gym classes will bond  because of their mutual suffering. And married women will crib over their husbands and this bonds them as friends. We are all aware that these relationships might not last forever. But we also know that we grow as individuals and it’s probably for the best to have some friendships dissolve.

There is no need nowadays to “invest” for the long term. We all don’t have time to give so much of ourselves. With extremely busy lives, we’re just happy to have a few hours with people who are free at that time. That constitutes friendship nowadays. Or so I think.

Can we count the number of friends who have known us for more than ten years and we still rely on? Probably on our left hand. Out of those, can we say we still have something in common with them? The number becomes less. But when you’re sure of that number, those are the people who will attend everything that’s important to you no matter how difficult it is or how busy they are, those are the people who will love you even if you change and become completely different from them. That number will always stick. And that friendship will be far more important than any family you’ve ever had. Its alright that I have just a few of those in my life but really, thank god for them!

The world is opening up so many social platforms for us to make friends. The truth is we are all still alone.

Posted in close to heart

Hope shall save the day



A few days ago I had to perform an extremely unpleasant errand for somebody who really should have known better than to ask this of me. I was made to go back to this particular hospital which was the place where I remember having spent one of the most horrible days of my life,  the place I lost my best friend, in order to hand over a receipt, right at the reception area where I got to know that terrible truth. I could have chosen to ignore this particular errand, but I don’t want anybody to feel like I owe them anything. So I went, telling myself that I’m old enough to deal with this, that life isn’t about running away. But it was so hard to see that place again, the dingy road leading up to it, the building, the nurses in white, the familiar receptionist and the never ending staircase. I was thinking about the person that place took away from me, and how I was left with nothing to do but watch death take over him. When I walked into the reception area, I kept looking for his eyes, to see if it watching me struggle. He had the loveliest of eyes…sea green they were.

I know, life goes on. Nothing terribly profound about that coz really, life only knows how to go on. I know that I have to go on, and to realize that its not all about me, and how I feel. There are other, more important things, like running errands. But it isn’t happening very naturally. I look around and I see how I sometimes make people who are close to me uncomfortable, coz they really don’t know what to say to me. That look on their faces, saying that they’re sorry for me, but they don’t know how to let me know that without offending me, or making me feel worse. As it is, being a social creature is hard for me, and it makes it double tough when I see myself guarding against the very people that I love the most in the world. I don’t know how long it will take for me to get over this nagging hurt. I just hope that it happens, and soon. I also hope that when it does, I don’t wake up to find that I’ve distanced everyone who has tried to help. This experience has changed me. I’ve become cynical, jaded, weary and bitter. I just hope the change isn’t irrevocable, coz I really don’t like the way I’ve become. The only encouraging sign is that I’m still tenaciously holding on to hope, a little bit of it. Maybe it’ll save me.

I want to be whole again. I want to laugh with all my heart, coz 50 % only looked great on a maths paper and you know it  just isn’t good enough. I want to be as foolish as I was before I got a taste of how low life can actually you pull you down to. But you can’t choose your experiences. So I’ll just pray that I can make my peace with them, and hope that there are second chances, opportunities that can help me make up for my mistakes, even though I can’t ever compensate for this particular one. I hope to be strong enough to break this wall around my heart.



Posted in m@dness

Birthday Effects

I bet you have had friends who have put up statuses like this on FB. Well, here is something an FB friend put up on her bday:

Never thought that I would have so many surprises lined up for my birthday which I thought would be otherwise low-key. Thanks everyone for everything. I am glad you are with me, my precious!!! :) ) :D .

And it somehow got me thinking on the relevance of birthdays among the two sexes and the common sentiment associated with it.
Girls, as far as I know never have celebrated a “low-key birthday“. Yet, the reference for a low key birthday is obvious even when they know it has never ever happened to them.Its true! I do not know one girl apart from Div(on of my best gals) who doesnt make a huge thing about the day they were born. They(Read:We) just have to celebrate it and bring on the year with as much noise as possible!Gifts, surprises, parties, new clothes, etc are mandatory!
Guys, on the other hand stand a very good prospect of celebrating a low-key birthday. Many instances would come to my mind in substantiating my stand on this. When they(the guys) are single (either by choice or chance) or stood up in life, there is a good enough possibility of it going low key coz nobody really cares apart from they themself. On the other hand, even if they are in a “thing” (as is the trend nowadays), they might still have a girlfriend who wouldn’t remember the dates and would blame the guy for the mishap that was his birthday. But then, they are women so the men don’t make it such a big issue and tend to forgive.
Imagine if they had swapped roles and forgot their girlfriend’s birthday, they can be rest assured that the marching orders would be ready soon enough. :) There comes the aspect of relevance. I cant think of many men who would think of their birthdays being the most important days of their life. But on the other hand, its quite natural for women to feel so.
Coming to the common sentiment associated part, I found something amazing in the world today. The common sentiment associated with your birthday here is in loose terms, “something of a pure joy of growing old and having accomplished a milestone in life“. This is actually the most common sentiment  on a global scale, and you end up spending a fortune to let the world know that you are growing old. This is quite a contradiction to someone like me who thinks that birthdays are just one more way of god telling you that you have one year less to the grave. Thus I never understood the whole concept of celebrating it ever since I was 17, I think. I still am unsure which of the versions is the right one, but continue to go about mine for the sake of convenience and comfort.
Well coming to how I celebrated mine. Mine was a good day with a first surprise that came from Ms M in the form of a lovely cake and her presence! Then it came in the form of a bunch of friends(lets say family) that drove all the way down just to see me smile! Oh and they bought along a nice yummy cake too that I finished! So that was two cakes in a day! And then off we went for a nice drive n some shopping and some laughing and what not. Lil was the highlight. The kid can make just about anyone’s worst day into a super amazing day! Well birthdays become special when there are people around, people you love. I thought I’d have the worst bday ever but it was fine. Yes I did miss Big B. I always do. I dreamt of him that morning where he wished me and gave me a nice hug. So in many ways my day was good and I made it a point to make sure that nothing would affect my temperament that day and I succeeded!
And 26 years later, I realised that if you want to succeed and if you want to live happy, you just have to put your own life and happiness above anything else. Life cannot make you happy, you gotta make life happy!
So happy living!!!
P.S- I am getting old,aint I!? Oops!
Posted in m@dness

Whats it like to be you?!

 “We are so accustomed to disguise ourselves to others that in the end we become disguised to ourselves.”

As someone who is running 25 26, I have to admit I am an adult who got mind stuck at around 18 n no one knows better what it means to live such a schizophrenic life. With your friends you’re the sometimes giggly sometimes gloomy gal, with your family its another character, with your “gang” you turn into a crazy monkey and at a social service club, the sober intellectual with invisible spectacles!
So, whats it like to be yourself or rather what does it mean to be yourself? To be consistent in your behaviour and body language?
To me, being yourself is being consistent in your basic ideologies and principles at all times! It means sticking by your word, no matter what!
A couple of days ago, I was having a conversation with G regarding an old friend. He was wondering why I wasn’t best buddies with that girl because we were real close while at school. A friend who used to be my best friend. I had to let her go when I realized that she was going against my principles. I have always, always stood against  infidelity. I have seen its effects and its been a strict NO NO for me. My best pals and friends know of the same and I still stand strong n rooted to it. I couldn’t change my opinion for anything in the world and when she cheated on my friend, I knew it was time I let her go.She thought I’d stand by her but I didn’t, I couldn’t. She had different views of life n so did I. I could have turned a blind eye towards what she had done and still had her as my best friend but that would have been me being spineless and hypocritical in my books. I lost her and her friendship and have never found anyone else in her place but I can’t help it. Yes, we talk but its just words.
I don’t see how your behaviour with every single person in your life has much to do with “being yourself”. You relate to every single person in a different manner, don’t you?With friends you aren’t the same as you are with family. Or can you?! You can’t possibly treat every single person in your life as cattle trains. Laugh at every joke every person in your life cracks, scream at one as mindlessly as you can at the other. They’re all different, they all deserve a relatively unique place in your life. So, it’s okay to be one person with your friend, and another with your parents.That’s what I believe to be correct. Theoretically, at least, it sounds okay to me.
The question is doesn’t that make you a little schizophrenic in the end? A little confused about who you really are? A tiny bit disillusioned with people, expectations, morality?
When and how do we come to terms with who we really are at the core? Do we ever?????

“The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe.”
Posted in fiction, m@dness

Sacred Secrets

He was different from every other man she had ever known. Yes, both of them were in relationships before, but this was a different experience. For both. They both knew each other for long and had gone out together on several occasions. Whether it was their age or whether it was their innocence was not clear but they never lost their composure when being in the midst of friends/ people. She had a man and he had a woman. But they had a bond. That was evident.

It wasn’t till years later that they spoke to each other in a way they always wanted to. Conversations were minimal. After all, actions spoke louder than words.

She was amazed. How could two people come close to each other only to make love but have no intention of falling or being in love? Was that possible? Ofcourse it was! Everything was possible for them. They were two people who loved treading the less taken paths and breaking rules!

Staying together was the rarest of luxuries. It hadn’t happened many times and it wasn’t to happen many times. But the first time they did, he hadn’t slept too well, rubbing her shoulders distractedly every few minutes. And she’d slept curled in his arms with eyes that even when open spoke nothing but of secrets hidden safe.

Waking up early, he’d ordered tea and taken it to her, willing her to wake up. And she did. The tea sat on the table while he made love to her as if he hadn’t seen her for eons. Later he’d woken up  to find her missing in bed. With a panic that refused to be curbed, he’d almost leapt up to rush out looking for her. But she was in the same room, sitting on the chair reading.

Noticing the movement, she’d looked at him over her book. And as if continuing a conversation that had been suspended, she’d read to him in clear tones words that rang true in the light of dawn breaking.

“All men are untruthful, inconstant, false, chatterers, hypocritical, proud, cowardly, contemptible and sensual; all women are perfidious, artful, vain, inquisitive and depraved.” She must have skipped a few lines for the pause was a thoughtful one. “But there is in the world a holy thing and sublime, and it is the union of two of these so imperfect and so dreadful beings.”

Pausing she’d looked at him through eyes softened by the sincerity of the words read. In her voice, proud and arrogant led by knowledge of acceptance, she’d read on.

“We are often deceived in our love; we are often wounded and often unhappy, but still we love, and when we are on the brink of the tomb we shall turn round, look back, and say to ourselves: I have often suffered, I have sometimes been deceived, but I have loved. It is I who have lived, and not an unreal being created by my pride and boredom.”

And with perfect knowledge of imperfect mankind and in their superiority of knowing and living life in terms that scorned the weakness by a name called love, they would make love again.

Their fears hidden from the world just like the bond they shared.

Posted in close to heart

A bygone love story

I knew both of them as a kid. Him first and then he introduced me to her, years later. I liked her . He was atleast 14 years elder to her. But that didn’t count because they were comfortable with each other.

I knew them from a time I was convinced no boy and girl could be friends and just at that, to a time when I went about fighting for the cause of just-friends.

They were friends. Too. But there was more.

I didnt have anyone to talk to then, at that time. So I learnt to keep it to myself. Now, I know, So, I write.

A few years later, when I was older and I caught up with him, he told me about it. She was long gone. From Cochin. But she remained, a distant memory in my mind and a love worth waiting for, in his.

He would often talk about remember-whens and do-you-knows. I would always listen.

Then those anecdotes stopped.

To outdo her, he plunged into a fit of trying to love and be loved. He was lovable. If only he didn’t try so hard.

His heart was broken many a times, but he wondered about the ease with which he rebounded. But I knew, it was because it had never healed.

Many years and many loves later, she returned. To a country she had left. Or tried to.

That phone call was one he had waited for, without even realizing it. Feigning a nonchalance that didn’t suit him, he laughed, he pretended, he agreed to meet her.

And this is what he didn’t tell me. On how he would have tried to dress up for her. On how he would have trimmed his hair, beard and dabbed himself in the expensive perfume he had kept locked away in his cupboard. How he would have tried to leave a book casually on the table pretending to have been reading it instead of waiting by the window or even sitting simply in anticipation. How he would have stocked the fridge with something he thought she would have liked but would never even eat. On how he would have spent every minute the two hours agreed upon, in innumerable ways and not liked any of them…

And this is what he told me. While we walked a long walk. She didn’t come.

P.S- This is for a person who is special for me, a person who was often misunderstood. This is all I can give you…..bcoz I love you too much to see you hurt.