Posted in Musings

Wild flowers and vine

To me it sounds crazy.
First for the fact that I even thought of writing this down and second for the mere thought of you lying down far, far away not having the slightest, faintest clue that somebody somewhere is putting down her wild and mismatched feelings for him.
Hallo, this is craziness in its purest form ever.
Ten years ago on a strange Sunday morning there grew wild flowers and vines on the walls of my mind for someone I barely knew and yet ten years thence the flowers and vines continue to grow as though watered by a supernatural force on every other day I noticed they were being taken care of. Why, when I see you I still feel the butterflies in the depths of my stomach and the flowers yield fruits and the vines grow thicker by the day. When exactly did I water, nurture or care to even look at this wild garden that grew within me, that which I named after you and for you. I am trying hard to figure out when exactly. The date, the time, the extend, the reasons and why again?
This grows wilder now.
Ten years is a long time and considering the number of times I have seen you, these flowers and vines aren’t supposed to grow any wilder instead die away a long time ago. Well, I did grow other gardens that I genuinely took care of and watered all day and night with a rigour that was so true and pure. Yet they dried away and gave way to parched, dry grounds but this one stayed on and wild and fresh when I cared not to care for. The last time I saw you in the distance from a space that was close enough to me, the butterflies did flutter and the flowers did bloom a little more. I thought that garden died but it lived and waxed a little bit more strength and energy.
Do you have flowers and vines grow for me?
I bet not, I somehow am sure about that. Why would you care to think of me? You probably had better flowers and vines grow on the walls of your mind that you have taken care of and loved. When you see me, you probably want to rip and dig me out from the grounds of your mind and never think of me again. You probably look at me because I look, because you know I have wild flowers and vines that pop out of my head and that go crazy when I see you. Or do you care when I viciously observe you from safe distances and subtly look for you amidst the many people that crowd and gather? Do you or is it just my mind playing tricks on me again, giving me away to think that you care too?
Again- this is craziness in its purest form.
You are probably pursuing madly after someone right now. You are probably depressed, sad or alone. And yet far in the distance here I am penning down my thoughts for someone I think I love, for someone I would consider worthy for the time I spend over thinking thoughts like this.
With love,
The girl you barely know
Posted in Prose

A little honey on my chilli flakes.

(For Marcia, Mark and Melvin)

Perhaps I would like to have a teeny bit of honey on my chilli flakes simply just to mellow down the rush and roar of the heavy spiciness that would linger on my tongue for God knows how long. I love the spice that excites my slithering tongue but it is long and I am weary of this monotonous spice and hotness. How long and how much more of this spice? Can I have a little change in the normal way of my things? Perhaps, honey on my chilli flakes? They say your flakes you have earned and all that spice and fire in your tongue you deserve for the works of your life. But can I please have a change of my menu here? A little honey maybe on my chilli flakes? I have had this spice for years now- on chicken, sandwiches, burgers, curries and fries. I am forgetting to mention but I have had flakes on sweets as well. Inevitably they land everywhere and whatever I eat as if flakes were salt on a normal basis of my life. While they have made my life a big era of boredom they have tired me, frightened me to the depths of the oceans and made my senses go haywire. I am done with these chilli flakes dawdling my life with no ultimate cause or reason yet messing my life in all the ways possible. Trust me, I try hard to sweep my life clean from all these chilli flakes that lie scattered all around and in every nook and cranny after a horrendous argument, unpleasant disagreements and harsh walkaways of people-spicy, spicier, spiciest and sweet, sweeter, sweetest. I try hard to keep me clean of these flakes that add an extra amount of madness in my attitude but they stick close, closer than ever.
Well, now I yearn for a little honey on my chilli flakes for the flakes refuse to leave so a little honey might calm down the rush and roar of flakes on my life and my poor tongue. I poured out a little honey on these flakes that stayed intact and they seemed to have silenced themselves now. I see the thick honey roll down the chilli flakes, embracing them together, passionately falling over and under each of them they hardly could flaunt their spiciness anymore. The honey trickling down and all over, smoothing out the rather ferocious attitudes of the flakes that for so long messed with me and bored and roared on my taste buds, I now wonder- “Why in the whole wide world didn’t I possibly not think of honey on my chilli flakes? ” I like it this way, the honey and flakes have embraced themselves and made love they can’t separate themselves from the beds of my tongue. As for my mouth, it gives them all the privacy in the world to love, look into each other’s souls and lose themselves in the intimacy that never happened in their lives. Why didn’t I think of honey on my flakes? The boredom I talked of earlier is far gone and the weariness and tiredness have walked a long way away from me now. It was honey that came to my rescue and that mellowed down the spiciness of the chilli flakes that specked on the pastures of my life. The redness of the chillies seem to be humble and quite when I pour out a little honey on them every time they mess up and roar on the grounds of my life and bang hard on the walls of my mind. The honey does the magic now, it soothes, spreads out its sweetness all around the madness and somehow melts away the havoc rising in me. So now when the chilli flakes roar at me, I simply order a teeny bit of honey to be poured all over. For when they meet, they seem to have a special way of calming down each other. It’s good you know- A little honey on the chilli flakes.

Posted in Musings

Feelings of Nothing-ness

Have you been there?
Days when all you do is look forward for that one something that might whisk away the bad air around you and possibly put you in a better mood and largely give you reasons to be hopeful and happy for another day? All you do is wait for that one something, marking the days on your calendar and counting hours and minutes to somehow live in the happiest moment you think it will be. Somewhere deep, deep down you kind of know, maybe hope that this something that you so much look forward to might possibly, hopefully enough fail your depression, defeat your sluggish mind, like dementia make you forget your past and all the unfortunes that you have had for a prolonged period of time and somehow inject some energy within you. A little ounce maybe.
Well, it’s not like your unfortunate-ness has given you away this time but you did get that something you looked forward to, maybe that one competition you looked forward to win, a new job that you hoped to get, that article you wrote last week getting published in a well known newspaper today or simply just getting a new dress or sweets from the best shop in town. But now that you did get your most looked forward something you feel nothing. Just nothing. Simply nothing. Where was all the joy that you thought would brim up in you? Where’s all the contentment you thought might fill your mind by this time and where’s all the hopes and sureties of defeating your depression and anxiety for once by looking forward to get this something? Did it all flow away even before you delved into it? Or did it just not come to you? What was it? Why wasn’t that feeling of excitement and joyfulness not flowing in and out in rushes? Why?
But why?
Posted in Debut Book

A Little Spark for Living- Debut Book

On September 25 Notion Press, India published my debut book “A Little Spark for Living” and I cannot possibly contain the joy and gratefulness filling in my heart. Since I am a first time author, the book is only available in the Indian market. You can order my book from the Amazon store, it would mean a lot! https://www.amazon.in/dp/1636332560

As much as I am glad I could finally reach a milestone, my heart fills with gratitude towards God for the hardships He has led me through and the wonderful people He let stay in my life. As I look back, I remember my days in undergrads when my mind had a personal cloud of negativity and a little too much of neuroticism hanging over my head. I was a terrible person fearing for the worst at simple things like “What if I don’t do well in the University exams?”. At such a time I told a friend that I would someday get over pessimism and write a book on Positivity and Life and my friends laughed at me (no offence because I gave them reasons to).

I wouldn’t say I have come a long way but in my own neurotic ways I have been devastated, lonely, depressed, hopeless, most times stupid and very often degrading myself. But every time I lost a friend to selfishness and heartbreak, loved ones to misunderstanding, families to sickness and unfortunate incidents, I learnt a new lesson and again I wouldn’t say these lessons were Herculean but in my day, in my ways they did revive me, add a little sense into my head and help me walk forward though at many times I have walked forward aimlessly and broken in mind and soul.
In school, in every slam book, in every class, to every teacher I said my ambition was to someday become a Professor in Literature and an Author and yeah I have come to reach one milestone and I am glad I did. I did it but everytime I know I did it I know there have been hands that pushed me forward to see the good, the potentials, the strength and the calibre that lay soft behind my vulnerable self.
I am ever grateful to my parents and my brother Justin for the motivation and the positivity they emitted through the whole process. I thank my father who took time out of his schedule to edit the book as to present it in the best way possible, my mother and my beloved brother for constantly motivating me and believing the fact that I could do the impossible if I set my mind to it. I have to be grateful to all my friends for being there when I trampled down on myself. My friend Meera for sticking close for 11 years, Shalom for reviving and praying for me for the past 8 years, Pranav for being a wonderful friend and brother in Alva’s when things started shaking all around me, Nikhil for teasing away all my troubles and tensions by simply writing them out in our rather inactive Instagram page, Souparnika for being the most wonderful friend who believed I could do anything and Adarsh for ever so patiently listening to all my relationship crisis for the past three months and talking to me just to keep my head off sensitive topics and people who could possibly ruin my peace and ruminate a little less about my past. Thank you for believing I could get out of whatever mess I had landed in.
.
.
.
I love you all.

Posted in Musings

Some genuinity

This is genuine.
Were you by any chance an addictive drug I consumed when I was on the highway of life with the wind and rain lashing against me?
Were you by any chance my battle field where I began something so stressful and draining as this?
Why am I still writing about you when I was supposed to budge and walk miles ahead from where I was stranded?
Was there any chance that if the sun on our skies was brighter we would have possibly seen through each other’s worthfulness?
There are high probabilities that the mist was stronger than ever and the fog filled in my eyes I could hardly see through. Or was that in your eyes?
Why am I standing here when I was supposed to have walked miles into my rather placid days ahead?
Why am I still tick tick writing down on my phone when I have hardly figured out ways to text better and store well in my new phone because I had to give up that other phone. It had memories that tore me apart every morning when I woke up?
Why am I still thinking about you when all I did was to get you out of my damn head?
I changed a phone, a lifestyle, a complete personality…..why then haven’t I changed my rusty mind that has clinging pieces of rusty memories of you all over that I hardly put the singlest of efforts to move it out for the new ones to take its place?
Why am I unwilling to stop writing about you when I know I have erased every trace of you from the walls, corners and shades of my heart?
If I were to stop writing, maybe I would run out of words and ideas for my journal,page or blog. You stayed in the racks of my mind like a dictionary full of words and biblichor that I somehow loved to smell every time I opened it. Redolent in its own addictive sense.