You get twenty five whole years to ''grow up',' and I get just two decades. It hardly seems fair.

Honesty.

It's funny how nobody else thinks honesty is selfish. 

If I screw up real  bad, then being honest about it is going to free me off the guilt.. clear my conscience... the works. However, it is going to hurt everyone else involved. I am trying to protect them by nor revealing the truth.
I've always been on my high 'i-never-lie' horse when in fact I've often held back.
They say it's equally bad.

All I'm saying is that having people close to you bear the brunt of your actions by virtue of truth. hardly seems fair.

I don't know what I'm saying. I hardly do now.

Holding Hands and Other Redundancies.

The sudden hugs from the back when she is pretending to sulk about something silly he said. The 2am 'I think I miss you' call, when in fact they hung up at 1am. His sudden disappearing for a few hours just to tease her. And sometimes just the sitting together quietly with his arm in hers. Setting the sun by the lake. Then making the moon appear at night. The wandering through Mumbai streets at the heart of midnight. The speechless listening. The having his breath drop on her ears. Her hesitation in throwing around "I Love You" like chewing gum wrappers to him. The realization, however subconscious, that it might mean something more than she'd have liked. The smiling foolishly over text messages. The staying up late at night to talk about nothing whatsoever. The extra cigarettes she smokes just to make him stay longer. The sudden urges to touch him. The bites on his arms that she affectionately brands him with. The feeling she gets of being owned; not by force. The feeling that's so strong that it almost makes her believe in the redundant 'human' concept of marriage, however fleetingly.

Not Her Marriage, Though.

That's just not happening.

It all feels hugely stupid to her. Stupid, to say the least.

Nevertheless, It's all happening after a long long time. Maybe that just makes it nicer.

Sudden Realization # 4

The thing about always doing whatever the fuck you believe in regardless of what they told you is that you can't quit.
Even when that's all you may want to do.

"Chest"

I met this guy on my second day in Mumbai. Such a beautiful boy he is. An extremely good-looking North Indian boy. I stress on North Indian because you knew it as soon as you laid eyes on him.. Punjabi boy, joint family, chest out when he walks, fairer than milk, redundant tattoo.. the works! Let's call him chest.

I took chest to a bar. Chest told me of his family. The mother who loves chest, the father who is seemingly very strict, the overprotective brother, the grandfather whose death crushed chest. The doting grandfather whom chest still can't imagine life without. The only one in the family who ever expected good things out of chest. The man who wanted his lovely grandson to become the next Sachin Tendulkar. Chest obliged. Went for practice. Chest started off as wanting to prove the world wrong and keep chest's grandfather's word. Chest needed everyone to know that he was capable of much much more.

Chest told me all that over one drink too many.

So after a week of 'rigorous' practice, chest quit.

Chest told his grandfather that chest can't because chest doesn't want to get tanned.

Chest's grandfather died a month later.

I choked on my drink too.
We made out later that night.
We don't talk anymore for obscure reasons.

I think chest killed his grandfather.

Mosquitoes and Mush.

Don't you just hate it when a fucking mosquito form Mumbai gives you Malaria?
Don't you just love it when because of that you get to take your first flight out to Delhi and indulge in a whole lot of mush?

I'm feeling much better now, yes. It's time to go back soon.

And I just realized I have 101 followers. Ah the misguided youth...

Popsicle :*.

"There is this Swift by my car.
A girl in the front seat- her leg is up on the dashboard, her seat is peechhe and she's smoking...

You sure you aren't in Delhi?"

:')