Sunday, April 29, 2012

Sudden Realization # 1

All I have ever really wanted is for something/someone to make me as happy as Kuch Kuch Hota Hai does.

Saturday, April 28, 2012


India Gate was the pretend-like-everything's-alright-in-the-family venue for most of her childhood. Only, there was probably little pretense back then; at least on her part. In retrospect maybe years later, she realizes how she was probably the glue keeping the miserable family of four together, who needed to pathologically ignore their feelings in order to survive. At least two out of them had to. She would often credit her happiness to her weak memory. She had this magical filter since the day she was born wherein she could easily forget everything she didn't want to remember. What a blessing that was! Is. But sometimes in the little tug of war between magic and memory, memory wins. Sometimes.
"I want a balloon", she said.
"It'll burst. No point.", he said. 
That was that.

I want a few balloons strung together for my birthday. 
I wish October comes soon enough - 19th October. Everything makes sense then.

This Is Where You and I Meet.

A room. A room lit only by television. Reeking of smoke. I wonder what mum would have to say when she returns. One drink down. Post coital. Pizza crave-ey. Cold leftover pizza. My shoulder hurts. Pizza just reminded me of someone. Haha. Makes me smile. Makes me want to draw. I think my biggest regret in life is that I can't draw. I'm irrationally and unbelievably jealous of everyone who can draw. Well. This blog wasn't supposed to be like this. Not that I know what it was supposed to be. Not that I ever know what anything is supposed to be. But, it should probably be about pouring my heart out. 
But what do you know? There's only so much my heart has. Or maybe I don't have a heart. Or an ambition.

Thursday, April 19, 2012


cry for things you can't say. and sometimes, for things you don't even know you can feel.

Saturday, April 14, 2012

To The Stars.

I woke up to the feeling of his leg between mine. Pressing. Painful enough to wake me up, gentle enough to not scare me. Gently throbbing. What a beautiful feeling to wake up to! I had barely opened my eyes when I felt his tender lips on mine. His tongue forcing my mouth open wide and venturing the insides; I moaned in his mouth. Almost immediately he started to work his way down. It felt like he knew the molds of my shoulders like his own. He then reached for my skirt and lifted it- just a tiny wee bit though. We both took a moment then to catch breath, I think. I lay their in my polka dotted underwear that were only slightly exposed because of the skirt lift. Of course he could tell I was wet. It was complete with my scent. I thought it was rather complimenting to him. Then the air filled with movements- furious movements as he pulled my underwear down and off my toes and threw them in the vicinity of my purple lace brasserie. As I  prepared for him to enter me, he caught me by surprise. He leaned in and started with licking the inner of my thighs. Gulp. I was moaning so hard my throat was becoming  fucking dry. I started to lose control of me and my mind as he proceeded. I pushed his mouth further in with one hand as I couldnt help but bite my other. Then he slid one finger in me... and then another. With that, it was almost as if I had to throw my head back and curse the motherfucker, lest I might die. He was thrusting. One harder than the previous. I was just about managing between arching my back and biting the fuck out of my lower lip. The third finger was most definitely the final blow. I wanted to scream my guts out. But my breath kept getting caught in my throat. 

And then, somewhere between my endless breaths, groans and shivers, just like that, I was off to the stars.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012


We are all slaves. The sooner we come to terms with it, the better.

There probably isn't a better future awaiting us. There probably isn't a real stairway to heaven.  We are probably never going to be ab le to do what we truly truly think we deserve to do. We are probably not made for greater things. Our lips are probably too fucking huge. Our boobs are probably going to weigh us down to death eventually. The friends we swear by would probably get over us. No, our attendance in college would probably not be enough. We'd probably have nothing to do this year. There probably won't be enough money on us for  us to splurge like we do. 

We'd probably smell bad too. 

We probably won't die in our sleep.
This is probably the best it can get.

Yes, the worst things in life are also free.

Friday, April 6, 2012


Sympathy for you? Never. Sympathy is for wusses.
You're a stud and all.
You deserve love and all.

You've been an influence on me, yes.
A strong one, yes. A bad one, yes.
You of course saw it as a good deed throughout.
Influencing me was your charity.
And charity does begin at home; or so I've been told.
It's all way back in the past now; or so I've been told.
Past, recent past, present, near future, distant future, future...whatever.
A happy ending.
It's a shame, really.
How can two people who are this bound by history and pain not get one.
They at least deserve an ending.. happy or sad. But no end, here.
It goes on. Monotonously and uncomprehendingly.
Could it be because we have seen each other through a lot?
I, for one, have seen your faith and beliefs turn into dust after 9 drinks too many. 
You, for one, have seen mine collapse much sooner.
You're extremely accepting of my long overdue waxing appointments.
Like I am of your lack of articulation and participation. 
But does that alone, among some other things, give you the right to expect?
The right to merge the lines of non familial relationships with me?
The right to call us something that we aren't. We aren't for a long long time now.
You know it just as much as I do. 
It's all way back in the past now; or so I've been told.
Past, recent past, present, near future, distant future, future...whatever.

I don't even know where I'm going with this. 
It's not like I'm writing here the things I would tell you someday.
I don't even know what to tell you. Or me. Or us.
After seven years and a hell lot of people later, how is it that we share this uneasy little bond-thing?
It's unfair. Even you are.
Am I supposed to be sympathetic?

Sympathy for you? Never. Sympathy is for wusses.
You're a stud and all.
You deserve love and all.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

2nd of April. Then and Now.

On the second of April last year, I drank lots and India won the Cricket World Cup.
On the second of April this year, I drank lots and I kissed the woman of my dreams.
It's funny what alcohol can do to make magic!

Today is not the second of April anymore.
Today is the third of April.
Today my University Exam Date Sheet is out.
And it's nothing like kissing the woman of my dreams.

Maybe I need more alcohol in me to make it through...
You know? 'Cause it makes magic and all...