Boy you got my heartbeat runnin' away Beating like a drum and it's coming your way Can't you hear that boom, badoom, boom bass?

I have totally lost it. See that *points to the title* right there.
CIE is ruthless. All those who think international boards are easy, go take a walk.

-Coming to the point,

HAPPY FIRST BIRTHDAY TO MY BLOGGGG!
I'm am so excited. It has been one helluva year.
I write-I disappear-I reappear-I write. Its been a vicious circle, but man have I loved being here.
A big shoutout to all those jolly good fellas who've been with me all along. Looovve youu guyyys <3 x I really appreciate ya'll sticking around.
Zero to thirty- something followers and two blog awards along, I have come a long way. I never expected my little dumpyard to become something like this. And something tells me this is just the beginning.
I just wish I could revel this moment, but sadly I can't. I'm in the middle of my grade 10 board exams which get over on the 19th of next month so the next biiiig post on the 20th, seeing that I'll be partying my wits off on the 19th :P
I should go now.

Truck loads of love,
Yours truly.

Cuz you and I- We were born to die.

I just hate people.
And peanut-butter. That's about it all.

Everybody loses, We all got bruises.

Ever had a moment when all your deepest, darkest fears, the worst-case scenario, your wildest imagination flash in front of your eyes- ones which you never unveiled to anybody in the fear of it coming true, or rather in the fear of being cajoled into believing that it isn't true, even when deep-down you know it is?

***
My father is a Captain in the Merchant Navy. Ever since I remember I have been watching him pack and bid goodbye for months to come. In those times, there was no method of communication whatsoever and I swear my mother thanked the gods when the service of the humble e-mail was made available. It used to be crazy living in anticipation of a letter, and not being able to see his face for six months, sometimes even longer.

When I was about five, I overheard my dad talking to a few guests over dinner. He spoke about this massive fire on his vessel and the fact that it had taken him hours to put it off, skillfully nonetheless. I guess that was when the fear was sown in my mind. Over the years he tried to shield me from the monstrosities of his occupational hazard, but somehow I came to know. Pirates, ice, fire, storms- were all a part of the so-called monstrosities.
One time, his ship was sailing across the African coast, along Somalia and its neighbors. I couldn't sleep at night, and my days were filled with unrest. The time when I received a mail saying they had crossed those waters and were headed toward Australia, I let out a sigh of relief. They did have a piracy scare, but the pirates' boat just passed by theirs, like literally five miles from theirs.

Every time he packed his bags to leave, I am in tears. Years since, I still cannot help it. I try to hide them, but he sees it. And even after a million talks with him about how he will be cautious, I cannot help it. Its not like I don't trust him to keep safe; Its the others who lack my trust. Along the way, I tried to hide my tears because it made him feel guilty about it, and its made it tougher for him.

Watching Captain Phillips today, was my worst nightmare come true. All those traces of fear in the darkest crevices of my mind were brought up front. The role of the protagonist, although beautifully portrayed by Tom Hanks, reminded me of my father the whole time. It gave an insight into the minds of the pirates.
 But the thing that constantly gnawed at me was the fact that the American government sent Navy SEALs and whatnot to save the abducted captain and managed to rescue him. Knowing just how incompetent the Indian government is, piled onto my already sky-high list of things to worry about.

I just feel like my hands are tied. Helplessness consumes me every time I think about the situation.
There is just no fucking way to ward this fear away. 

ASDFGHJKL.

Yesterday was one of the worst days I've had recently. Ironically, it was one day where I actually set my books aside and took a well-deserved break.

Seeing I had no classes that day, my mum scheduled an appointment with my ophthalmologist. I had a teeny-weeny number, and Mum thought it was time for a check-up. So I reluctantly left my One Tree Hill marathon, to go all the way to the other side of town, in a rickshaw.  :/

Once there, the nurse poured some drops into my eyes. And just as those came into contact with my cornea,  I shrieked. I had totally forgotten how much that stuff hurt. It was like friggin' acid.
It was supposed to dilate my pupils, and make my vision hazy for a few hours, and help the doc see whether there was anything wrong with my eye. Thankfully, there wasn't. And my eyes were okay now.
That should make me happy, right?
Wrong. That stuff was like frickin' acid and had me practically blind. I couldn't see a bloody thing!

The world was just a big Pablo Picasso painting for me.
All I could see was big blotches of color.

By the time we left the clinic, it started raining pitch-forks. My great kismet. *note sarcasm*
And no rickshaw- waala was ready to come all the way back, in that pouring rain.

So my poor mum, a hand linked through mine to keep me from straying away, the other hand holding the umbrella for both of us and clenching onto her bag and waving frantically for the rickshaw waalas to stop. They didn't, nonetheless. Morons.

After a while the Rain-God had mercy on us, and tamed down.

But instead, Mum took that as a bait to do some street shopping. I mean, seriously?
She stuck to her guns till the vendor did not give her the pumpkin for her price. And later she had the victorious feel in her tone, when she spoke of her achievement of getting the pumpkin at half the price we get in our locality.
And still no rickshaw- waala.

We would've been a sight, I tell you. My shorts were drenched, and my hair felt frizzy. Mum was not on her best, either. I was sulky, and stomping my way through the pot-holes, and in turn splashing muddy water all over my bare calves. Mum staggering on the road, with her arm full of plastic bags and an umbrella and trying to keep track of me, every other second.

 How much ever I try to portray rains as those wonderful, magical events they certainly weren't those for me.

When what seemed like hours had passed, a rickshaw-waala finally agreed. We quickly got in, and I started my rambles on how it was all a bad idea and how mum owed me a pedicure after all that dirty water we walked in- water people with diseases stomp and spit in; when my mum quietly mumbled something that really made me think.

Every cloud has a silver lining- She said.

Surely I had heard about it in school.
She made me think of a silver lining about this situation.

I, being the red-hot angry, stubborn head- couldn't think of any.

She said, When was the last time we actually held hands while walking?
-When I was 10. Five years back.

"When was the last time you got wet in rains?"
-I don't remember. I've always hated rains,

"When was the last time Mumbai got rains on time?"
-Long, long back.

"When was the last time I got pumpkin for fifteen rupees?"
- I laughed at that.

So after a long, hot shower I hit the sack.

It was a memorable day after all.
Of silver linings and despicable Bombay rains.

My click :)

Hey Macklemore, can we go thrift shopping?

Maroon 5 + watermelon ice-cream + yellow lights = Best Saturday night ever. <3

I hear the wind blow. It seems to say Hello, I'm the one who loves you so.

I don't know what went wrong. I just don't.

Ever had that feeling, where you can see it all go away? Where you know nothing will ever be the same. When you just sit, and think, where did I go wrong?

That helplessness. You think back to when it started, and what you could have done differently. Ever?

Then you start doubting yourself every time you make that move. You loose confidence.
Looking at the others look so strong, you start undermining yourself. You get intimidated. All those 'what-if's pass through your mind. You are convinced that you are no good.
You can feel the change in you. Good or bad, that's for you to decide.

Until the day you become your own monster.

Their proud faces are now just a part of that Good 'ol memory lane.
You begin to wonder where that part of you disappeared.

Try so hard. Take your chances. Search under every pillow, every blanket, every damn nook.
Still, no luck. You lose hope.
You start giving up.
Until one day, it all just becomes a memory.

When people generally refer to memories, why are only the good ones savored?  Why not the bad ones?

They are a part of you. They made you, what you are today. They helped shape you that way. That's what sets you apart from the crowd.

Your mistakes, your sufferings. They are an integral part of you.

 The real you.

When the lights fade out, all the sinners crawl.

She hates me. And, don't I know it.
She hated me from the moment I had first stepped into class- two years ago.

It was not like I wanted us to be best friends or something.
 I kept my distance. And she kept hating me.

Now don't take this wrong. She was not a bully or anything. Far from it actually.
She's barely 5' 5" and I easily tower over her with my 5' 7".

I went out of my way to keep her out of my eye shot.
One of my close friends in school was her ex-best friend. They had been inseparable, the first year I had been in this school. I had heard countless stories of theirs. They shared everything. Even boyfriends.
But the next summer, everything changed. Overnight they went from being practically leaches off the other's skin to scrunching their noses at the mere mention about the other. Something beeeeg had happened, but thats not my story.

Every now or then I would listen to how much she hates me from some of our common friends. I used to just push those thoughts out of my head. I could care less- she could just take all her hate and it and shove it up her ass.

We never had a proper conversation. Never.
A word or two here and there- That's the farthest we could bear breathing the same air.
She showed me the finger behind my back one day, and my best friend blew her top. There were a  truck-load few cuss words exchanged. And I had to literally drag my friend away to avert the nasty brawl we'd otherwise have had to witness.

I never hated her. She had done nothing to me.
I am far from judgmental. Being judgmental is wrong. I had learned it the hard way, and vowed to never do that again.

Whenever I passed her in the school hallways, I always smile or even put up an act to depict my happiness; I could literally see the hatred radiating off her. And this time I'm not exaggerating. And then looking at her, I don't even have to put up an act.


What puzzled me on more occasions than one, was that what would she have against me. Just why did she loathe me so much?

I thought back. I had done nothing to her. Not a single thing. But then I stop pondering over that- I have better things to do. I have a better life than hers-  I have every reason to be happy.

...This sounds like a typically high-school drama. *Shudders*
It is dramatic, indeed. But I reckon, as long as we have bitches like Harshika to grace the face of planet Earth... lets just say we'll never run out of entertainment.

And after all, you're my Wonderwall.

Adam Levine is now engaged. I cannot fucking believe it.



No. No.  Just no.

My knight in shining armor.

The street was dark. Dogs howling in the distance. Long shadows cast by trees making the road unnecessarily spooky. Half the street lights weren't on, and the one that was, was constantly flickering.

 The road isn't usually that dark, but the current strike of retailers, protesting against unnecessary taxes by keeping their stores shut, made the road so.

 I was on my way home, from class. And I usually have a friend with me, but he had to stay back for a punishment. So I was on my own.

At times like these I missed Ted.

Cursing at my luck and clenching my bag, I increased my pace and looked around.
 Just a guy, about a couple of feet behind me. Other than that, the road was devoid of humans. So practically, screaming my lungs out would not work.
I suddenly thought of the pepper-spray that my mum had bought me (more like forced on to me), fished out my cellphone and kept a steady finger on the speed-dial button, and started jogging.

Just as I rounded a curve, I bumped into something and my cellphone fell outta my hand.

As I bent to pick it up, I looked up. And found that it was a "somebody" that I had dashed into.

Quick to mutter an apology, I looked up to find that gorgeous face curved up, smiling down at me.
"Aaron! You scared the living hell outta me." I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
"Well, hello to you too. Why were you running? "
"Umm..just like that? " Damn. Good job with the response, tongue.

"Where were you going?"
"Home?" It came out more like a question. Argh.

"I'll walk you."
"No, no. Its alright. I can manage."
"Nah. I insist, ok? " Ok? I was more than okay with it. More like giddy with excitement.

And we walked up to my apartment. All the way making me jealous, by going on and on about the Swedish House Mafia concert in Mumbai that was a part of their last tour as a band, that he went to.. teachers, Blackberry, snakeskin, Ann and Computers, which he was a world topper in. That genius!

And as we neared my building, I said goodbye.
I stayed back for a moment, stared at his lean figure walking down the footpath. His grey sweatshirt illuminated by the yellow street lights.

All he did was to walk me home. But with that little act of care, he was my savior. My knight in shining armor.

PS: This was posted a little earlier in the day, but there was some techie error. So, I posted it again:)

Of good times and noodle salad.

She let out a shiver as she stepped into the cool Manchester air and walked towards the building.
She felt a wave of exertion overwhelm her as she stepped into the elevator, and let out a sigh.
She struggled to retrieve the keys from her purse, and her laptop bag fell at her feet. After a few tries, the door finally gave way and she stumbled into her apartment. And all of a sudden she was engulfed by a smell. Good heavens.

Masala chai.

It was as if she was magically transported back Home. Mumbai.
She was suddenly seventeen again, and could hear the rain pelting outside her window.
The smell of the wet soil.
The sudden pleasant weather welcome, after months of scorching heat.
She remembered that day distinctly.

First rain of the season. She was at home in front of her books, and was caught in a sudden trance as she heard the droplets pitter - patter on her windowsill.
The ring of her cell phone suddenly cut through the still air ; it was him.

Come down quickly- He had said, leaving no room for argument. She didn't need to be told twice.

There he was, outside the gate on his bike. Fully drenched.
The rain had stopped now. It was more beautiful.
She ran to him, ready to rebuke with all guns blazing. But he had waved her off, and given her a hand to help her get on the bike. He gave her some crap about being back in Mumbai after a long time and called her  paranoid after he sneezed a couple of times.

She would never forget that day.
She would never forget that ride.
She would never forget the lush greens and the whispering winds.
She would never forget the feel of the cool air hitting her face as he cut through the lanes skillfully.
She would never forget the quaint tea stall and the smell of masala chai.
She would never forget his mood that day.
She would never forget the twinkle of mischief in his eye.
She would never forget what he said to her.
She could not get herself to forget the way he met his death, the very next day.


Her mum waving her hand in her face, brought her back to the present.
"Earth to Savi." she said.

She found a tear escaping her eye. Just the whiff of masala chai had provoked memories she had tried so hard to bury and leave behind her, to surface.

She ran to her and consumed her in a bear hug and held her for a moment. She was thankful that her mum was finally there.
She had never been that close to her; once a daddy's girl, always a daddy's girl.
But at that moment she was the one who quenched her thirst for something familiar in an unfamiliar city. She enveloped her with the warmth, she didn't know she was aching for. She reminded her of home. Mumbai.

She was her home, away from home.

Picture courtesy : Weheartit  <3

Picture to Burn.

The 18th of April 2008 marked the start of the Indian Premier League, IPL for short.

Every summer since, the whole household dusts their hands off their responsibilities and sits in the drawing room. Their eyes glued to the idiot box, and the only sound in the room is the constant commentary, and the occasional cheers after the favored bowler picks up a wicket, or the batsmen hits a six.

Cricket is a religion in India. It binds the whole country together. Out of topics to start a conversation? There's cricket. 

A journalist called IPL cric-entertainment. I think the title befits the tournament, perfectly. 

Everybody has their favorites; so many arguments pertaining to who's the best team of 'em all. 

But lately there's been a lot of contamination in this religion. Players being bribed.. spot-fixing going on. 

Looking at the condition of the game now, just takes your faith off the game. Three were caught, God knows how many there might be?

One thing that I fail to understand is that they are getting paid in millions, so why sell yourself to those bookies for mere lakhs? 

Its just sad, what people do for "more".

What they don't understand is that they are deceiving the world, with all this faking business of theirs. It just takes the interest in the game away.

But I have to say, I respect those other players who were offered, but turned the bookies down.

So even if I write a post on how upset this makes me, tonight I am gonna sit with a bowl of popcorn in front of the television cheering for my favorite team in the finals, the thought that all of this game maybe pre - planned, lurking at the back of my mind, but my optimistic side overpowering that, and hopelessly hoping that its not true.

Picture source: Google images.

You and me? We were meant to be.

He just stared at her. Watching her frantically try to lap up water from the bowl in front of her, but failing miserably.

He looked straight ahead, with a piercing look. 

"Cindy has rabies. Its the last stage. Take her to the Parel veterinary hospital, and admit her immediately."

A tear rolled down my cheek.

All her life, this German Shepherd had been treated royally. She was more of a daughter to my parents, than I ever was. She was that one link, that brought us all together.

My mum always said that she had three children - Cindy, My brother and I.

It all started the previous night. After dinner she had been given her treat, but surprisingly she didn't gobble it up the way she normally does. She tried real hard to bite on it, but still no luck.

The next morning when having her breakfast, it all started falling from the sides of her mouth. Her jaw just couldn't be moved.

The vet had just so easily stamped her as a case of rabies.

As soon as my mum received the news, she broke down. My dad, was still not convinced.
They drove across the city, to the hospital. By now, my mother was into the possessive-mother-lioness mode.
There was no way Cindy could have had rabies. She was vaccinated and always walked by my parents, or me. And we took utmost care.
It took a lot to convince the people at the hospital otherwise. Mum plainly refused for Cindy to be kept in the Rabies Ward. It was no ward; just a fenced area without a cover for the dogs left to die, in the scorching heat.

I sat in front of her kennel at home. And cried. Cried my heart out. Cried until my crying became more like a questioning session with God.

I woke up, to find myself on my bed. I shut my eyes tightly. I didn't want to get up.
I could hear voices outside, confirming that it wasn't just a bad dream.

That was the first time I heard my father cry.

I clutched onto my pillow and suddenly there was darkness all around me.

Those two days were the worst days of my life.
It was as if my whole world had crashed, in just a day.

The doctors and ward boys refused to touch her.
But my parents never lost hope. Day in and day out, they travelled all the way to the hospital taking liquid meals with them, and force-feeding her. Not once letting the thought of her dying, let them do otherwise.

A couple of days passed. This feeding routine of my parents' went on. Her bark had changed. Her eyes had supposedly changed colour. The signs were all there.

I not once went to see her at the hospital. My life had come to a standstill.
I didn't know what I was doing. I lost appetite. I didn't feel like talking. I found myself staring into empty space, thinking about nothing.

After my parents' gazillion talks with the doctors and convincing theories, they decided to give her an ultimatum. If she survives the next week, they would be ready to take her on the table and examine her.

And my baby made it!

In the park. One year ago.

More recent. On the verandah of our home.

Her favourite pastime- Gossiping with the sparrows.

***

This happened on 20th November,2012. Cindy is perfectly awesome now :)

She lived through the week, and proved the absence of the rabies virus.

The X-rays showed a bone stuck in her throat, locking her jaw, that prevented food from going down her throat. And the difference in her bark was due to lack of water. The change in eye-color was pure BS.

She did not have rabies!

That week, was the worst one of my life.


Rabies is a virus that can be spread by the saliva of mammals. So, thats why if you have a rabies infected animal's saliva penetrating into your skin, through an open wound you should consult your family physician ASAP.

The signs of rabies in dogs, don't appear until 15 days.

Rabies has three stages. There are vaccines available. The final stage, is a death sentence.

What I learnt from the experience : India is in dire need of well educated and qualified, honest veterinarians.
Source: Worth-less blabbering veterinarian idiots.

In this tug of war, you'll always win. Even when, I'm right.

I stared back at my reflection in the mirror. Gone was the spark. The dull eyes, the pale skin, the dark circles weren't always there. A far contrast from my image of me, if you ask.

The feeling of being torn, I had become quite familiar with.

They always leave.
And in their wake, as I try to deal with their absence, I find a part of me disengaging from the world, bit-by-bit.
I find not-interacting-with-people a better option.
I admit, I get attached to people real quick. Is that a bad thing?

The idea of a my shell, seems the best to me. Where its just me. Nobody else.

Dad is not here half the time.
Al left.
Ted and I would never be the same again.
Mo, gone. Thousands of miles away.

Maybe I should change the name of my blog, to Me and My Boys. 

Sometimes the reality is too harsh to face. How I wish the earth would indeed open up, and swallow me down.
Running away from problems, am I?
 Im just fourteen.

I'm addicted to you. Don't you know that you're toxic?

"Come home na, we'll study together! " said she.

We were both taking a test the next day and I was a bit skeptical about the study together thing, thanks to my great results the previous term. *note sarcasm* I desperately wanted a better score, and she was no good in it either, but somehow I convinced my mum to let us study together. I had already cancelled on her a couple of times in the past, but there was no getting out of it this time.

I walked to the beat of Titanium, as I made my way to her apartment. I jogged to the first floor, and knocked on the door. In about a minute she stood in front of me, flashing me her crooked smile. I smiled back, out of courtesy as she grabbed my hand and pulled me in.

I took a minute to take in my surroundings. It was a small apartment-a 1 BHK. We were the only ones in there. To say it was messy, would be an understatement. There lay books and papers on every surface. Ironed clothes in a pile, on a nearby settee. And a huge cluster of designer shoes near the door. The flat-screen TV and the iPhone on the pile of newspapers, being the only indicators of the money running through the family. I suddenly felt claustrophobic and suffocated. The apartment could seriously use some aeration.

She swiftly picked up her bag and pile of notebooks from the makeshift couch, and motioned for me to sit on it. I did the same, and pulled out my textbook. We quickly started working through our portion.

Once we were about half-way through the lesson, there was a banging on the door. I was startled. She quickly got up and opened it.
"ANNNUUU!!(name changed, duh.) You would not believe what happened!!! Oh, you have a guest." That was all I heard, before this guy just turned away and ran down the stairs.

" Arrey Aaron(name changed, again.)." She then turned to me. "You don't mind him smoking, do you?"

"No, no. No probs." I replied, still looking in my book. No matter how casually she took the test, I was serious about it and certainly wanted good grades this time.

"Aaaaron. She dosent have a problem with smokers!" She yelled at him.

I suddenly looked up to see this eighteen-ish guy in a navy-blue over-sized tee and black shorts enter the living room, with a phone held to his ear, a ciggy and a bag in his other hand. I was left gaping.
 He was gorgeous.

If you looked closely, you could see the semblance. He looked like a thinner, male version of her.

He turned to me instantly, and probably caught me oogling. "Please excuse my language for the next 180 seconds."

He turned to Anu and narrated this story, full of profanities describing the extremity of the situation. How his driver got a spasm in the middle of the road, and how he wandered to find help, and in due course met this adorable cocker spaniel, and almost stepped on a snake shedding its skin, all this while his dark- brown eyes twinkling with excitement. Anu seemed to take it all in with a matched level of curiosity.

I was just left staring at this exchange between the siblings. He started telling her every thing that happened to him, and she had equal interest in his rantings. They both had this air around them that I hardly wanted to disturb, you know. It just makes you want to look and laugh at. They were so at ease with each other. They both included me in the conversation at times, but then I was just content with sitting back and watching them!

After a while, he left the room.
"You guys are so adorable together! " I said to her.
"Oh, no. He's a prick." I laughed.

She then went on to tell me the story behind "them". About how her father left her mother, and how she went on to make a career for herself. And, how Aaron was always there for her in all aspects.
This made my respect for them grow. I mean, isn't that how a family should be?

They say, "When all else fails, there's family." This is how it is. They are each-other's family.
Circumstances bring people together, and make a better person out of them.
The camaraderie, the little sarcastic exchanges, the promises to keep secrets intact, the little surprises, that emotional blackmailing. Its all a part of the package!
Im glad I got to experience that through Aaron and Anu, and my own brother. And, would wish for everyone to experience that atleast once in their lifetime.

My brush with History.

Visits to Dadar are always special. Is it the special Parsi - Marathi feel to it? Or the fact that my parents practically grew there? Or the feel of walking through history? I will never know.
Every city has its past. Its secrets, which are now being buried deep by the layers of modernization being forced onto it.
Every heroic city has its story.
Dadar is that part of Mumbai which housed many of the city's historic events.
The hub of all activities in the Victorian Era, it still does not fail to impress outsiders with its charm. It has this inept ability to capture any passerby's attention. Every time I pass the area, I feel as if Im magically transported back to when India was under the British Raj and half expect horse-carriages with counts in their beautiful attire with that air of hostility on their way to yet another important meet.
The Parsi tea-shops are a common feature, highlighted in many of those movies. A typical old pot-bellied owner with his trademark white cap, black glasses and white khaccha getting all cranky over those good-for-nothing collegians who keep hanging out in that tiny shop of his, drinking milky-chai and eating maska pav.
The long Shivaji Park, where my grandfather used to take me for walks, long long ago. Where you are bound to find the freshest young cricket talent, and perhaps also the next Sachin Tendulkar! Well it was Sachin's homeground!
The nearby beach gives the place a whole different outlook. Cool drifts of wind kept those hot summer afternoons pleasant, kept those trees swaying back and forth.
The area being the best shopping area for festivals. Anything, like any of the rare-est item, can be found here!
And speaking of festivals, the Ganesh Chaturthi period, here being a fortnight-long celebration, second to none!  Almost every other house here, houses a Ganesh idol and worships it for a certain time. And the visarjan days are the ones when everybody is out on their verandahs looking for a glimpse of the varied sizes of idols making their way towards immersion. Huge Sarvajanik Ganpati idols and small nuclear-family idols alike. The chants of Ganpati leaving and coming back the next year ring throughout the city and mark the optimism of the city dwellers.

And just as another bull-dozer knocks off yet another worn down structure of the area, bit by bit our heritage is being wiped out, leaving behind nothing more than a few smudges on the city's skyline. I pity the generations to come.


Later.
xx

You hold me, Im alive. We're like diamonds in the sky.

Bubbles are such pretty, fascinating things.

The precise spherical shape, the incredibly fragile nature of the microscopically thin soap film, the beautiful colours that swirl and shimmer.

They are beautiful. And photogenic. They bring happiness and peace to me.

Later, folks. 

:) xx

Picture courtesy: Weheartit

Cause with your hand in my hand and a pocket full of soul, I can tell you there's no place we couldn't go.

She felt the bed dip behind her, and was suddenly engulfed by the warmth of another body. She felt content in his arms. Like, that was all she needed to survive.To give her that one reason to breathe.
She smiled to herself.
And just as the feeling of gratification settled in she heard his phone buzz under her. She knew what it meant, very well.
He had to go.
She failed to keep the disappointment from surfacing, as he whispered a got to go, baby in her ears. She quickly turned around to watch him put on his jacket and quietly murmured, "Love you, Dad."

'Cause if the party is dead. All we need is candle light. And a little bit of dynamite.

People should smile more. Smiles suit everybody.

I'm criticized, but all your bullets ricochet. You shoot me down, but I get up.

Im happy now.

Happy.

I have started smiling more. I feel content.

So, for the past week or so my cell phone has been switched off, and I have not gone crazy yet. That, is a good thing.

I have started getting up early and going to bed early. As, promised to Pop.

I have taken up running again. And, clicking photos on my way back! My Instagram account is now, thus more active.

I'm able to concentrate more, and seem to space out less.

I'm never bored. If I fall short of things to do, I sit on the window and observe.

I've started writing, as in real stuff.
I ditched three parties.

I've started bonding with Cindy, again. My German shepherd. She listens to me, without interrupting or judging me. And, she talks to me.

I touched my easel and paints after two whole years. Only touched.

And, deactivated my Facebook account. Confessions Confessions Confessions.

Started listening to The Script. They make me happy.

Carry a book everywhere I go. 

So, Im happy now.

My birthday's in two months, and I've told my mum not to buy me anything. And, give all the money she was gonna spend on a party, gift, clothes etcetera for me, to me. Im just gonna go to Crossword one day, and spend it all. 

Pre-boards in less than a month. And, Im suprisingly still okay, with this happy attitude and all. Not hyper-active, nor stressed out. No signs of freaking out either. 

And, Mo keep's me busy with his stories and problems. I call them- The Singapore Times. We Skype almost everyday.

So, life's good.

The struggles Im facing,

The chances Im taking,

Sometimes might knock me down.

But, no. Im not breaking.

I may not know it,

But these are the moments that

Im gonna remember most, yeah.

I just gotta keep goin.

That awkward moment, when you relate to a Miley Cyrus-song.  :|

Anyways,

Ciao for now. (: xx

Picture coutesy : WeHeartIt.com

Six degrees of separation.

She stepped out onto the cool, moist ground. And looked up at the sky.
Her breath caught as she witnessed the mighty clouds roar. 

All of a sudden a gush of raindrops rush towards her, enveloping her in their chill and soothing her burning skin. 

She forgot everything.

And, forgave.

She felt something in her break, and come alive. The expectant pain, was nowhere to be found.

Tears emerged , but got carried way with the drops from the sky. Which left her mouth feeling salty, but not for long.

A feeling of inner happiness consumed her.

Numb no longer.



Picture courtesy : Google images

So, all my women here. Chin up, its your brother-fucking day.

"You sonovabitch"-You mothafucker.

So, two people fight. One swears at the other, calling his mother or sister at times, names and whatnot. Indirectly, insulting them, their pride and their grace. So, why the hell are women targeted, if the person whom he has a grudge against is the man in front of him?

Why is it that 80% of the people use women- concentrated profanities? Why is it that even when men are fighting, curses calling their women names are rallied back and forth? Why are women always the ones getting thrown dirt at?

Is it because men have HUGE egos and self-pride and don't mind themselves being insulted, but would not take a word against their women?

Is this because their intention is to hurt the other man, by offending his women? Then I don't think it is justified. It will hurt him, maybe. A little. But more than that, it would provoke them to retaliate with an even  better  comeback. Hopefully, worse than the one they'd received. This, leads nowhere other than making the conversation one, where kids need to keep their ears covered.

When I grow up, Im gonna make a curse that does not offend anybody other than the person I intend to. And, and, and the kids won't have to cover their ears either. Yeah, man.

Women are the whole reason why you are on this earth. Respect them. Treasure them.
Think about your own mother, before going ahead and calling others' names. Think about how you'll be disgracing her by uttering those pitiful words. The jackass who deserves this, isn't likely to change if you insult his mother. Sister, even.

So, my women here hold your head high. Chin up. And, most importantly keep smiling, because life's a beautiful thing and theres a lot to smile about.

Laterr

xx


Picture courtesy : Weheartit

Shoot down a skyline, watch it in primetime.

On my first day in school, I was made to sit next to this guy.

One look, and you can see attitude and over-confidence dripping off him. With spikes on his head and a jazzy cellphone under his desk, Swayam cemented his image as a typical troublemaker in my head.

First impressions can be deceiving. And that was what exactly this case was- I gradually understood.

As I was new, I tried to make as good of an impression as I could manage on my teachers. And, so unknowingly this guy was pictured me as the geek.

He, himself turned out to be pretty good at studies too. Particularly, Chem. Which, I loathe.

One convo between us, that I remember, happened when I solved this tough Chemistry equation before anybody else in the class could. 

"Oh, I thought you hated chemistry?" He taunted.

"I said I hated it, never said anything about not being good at it! " I shot back.

*Swayam, if you are reading this Im sorry. I couldn't remember anything significant from that year ;) *

By the end of that year, we were friends. Somehow.

Then came along 9th. Where we had almost all classes together. 

Grade 9 Science, had only five girls. And 15 boys. And, I fancied it that way. 

So, time passed. We all grew closer, and become quite a united bunch.

The teachers still considered him a handful.
But, he seemed different than the others, somehow.

And, Swayam and I invariably became closer friends.

And, finally 10th.
Where, he started having mood-swings. And, back came the attitude.

So, from singing Noddy, chatting on the floor in the library, hating computers, getting detention, Hunger Games, Physics, and Grey's Anatomy .___. we have come quite a long way. 

And, Swayam. I just wanted to say, I not glad you came. And, somehow discovered my blog :P

But, Im glad you're here. :')

So, what's the point of this post, you ask?

Weeell, you see. Swayam here, sorta asked me to write about him. And, this was what he took to keep his mouth shut about this bloggedy-blog of miiine. Cuz I didn't let anybody who knows me personally read this. So.

Later.


xx

PS: And, his phone got confiscated, on my very first day! xD

Theres no gravity to hold me down, for real.

I just happened to turn, and of all the things that had to catch my eye, it was him.

I just happened to gaze into his eyes, and I was lost. Again. Talk about deja vu.

My tummy does this flip-flop. And, I catch my breath.

This is not supposed to happen. Not after all this.

He smiles. I try to, too.

And, just as that gorgeous smile comes into view, the whole universe around us fades.

Its only him, and me.

All the memories we shared, flood back into my mind.

All those efforts to bury them deep down, gone futile. All because of a smile.

How can I be so weak?

He takes a few steps towards me. I felt a rush.
 The sudden electricity in the evening air, prominent.

This is where I say, I ended up making a fool outta myself.

Cause frankly, I don't remember what we spoke about. I was in a daze, literally. 

It had been one whole year, since I last saw him. 

What I felt around him, I think. Is the closest to love, I had ever felt.
And, it felt good.

What I'd give to see that face every single day. With everything between us, back to what it had been two years back.

#Respect

A girl in school, 2 years ahead of me, lost her father yesterday in the Thane Marathon due to a heart attack, on his birthday itself.
I cant imagine what the girl and her 11 year old sister might be going through. All I can say is, may God give her and her family the courage and strength to go through these difficult times. And, faith that this too shall pass.
#Respect.

Liebstaa!

MEEE!

Ruya-Preetika at waking moments nominated me for a Liebster award!

EEEEPS!  I just wanna climb a mountain and shout it out to the world!  Im overwhelmed!

 Thankyou so much, really! 

So, what is a Liebster award?

The Liebster award is given to up and coming bloggers who have less than 200 followers. Liebster is German for "favourite", so it is the favourite blog award, then!

Means a lot to me, to get this just after three months of blogging..thankyou again! 

So, according to the tradition, what I've gotta do is:

• Thank the bloggy who awarded this to you.
• Post 11 interesting things about yourself
• Answer the 11 questions listed by the nominator.
• Choose 11 bloggies, and create a questionnaire for 'em.

Some stuff about me..

1. Im 14. Im tall. Like giraffe tall. Im 5'7". My favourite shampoo is a citrus scented baby shampoo.
2. I am currently addicted to marshmallows. And, Simple Plan. And I like coke while it looses its fizz, and ice-cream while its melting.
3. Im super-sensible. And short tempered. And sarcasm is my way of life.
4. Imaa nerd at heart. And Im not ashamed of it. My favourite subject is Math, and Im currently flunking computer science. Im super-awesome at spellings, and my physics teachers love me. 
5. I love my previous school, and all of it. Even the ugly building, the stupid bimbos, and its even more stupid vice-princi.
6. I hate two-timers. I hate fakers. I hate peanut-butter. I hate chocolate. I love the colour aqua, and anything to do with water, other than rain.
7. I have the best friends in the world...and how much ever I crib about 'em, Im glad they are there :')
8. Im left-handed. Yes, Im one of those 7% in the world!
9. Buy me a pair of dunks and you'll be my best friend ;)
10. I really wish I had a super-exciting secret life. Like, Sabrina, but a bit different. I wish I was a part of this band, where I was the  lead singer, and all the other members were guys. Like from school. So, if we had an event, or a concert, we'd sneak outta school together, or something..
11.  I love suprising people, but don't like suprises for myself. Weird?

Now for Ruya Preetika's questions.. This took me quite some time, I tell you.

Q. Other than writing, what is the one thing/activity you can't live without?(guys dont act smart and say stuff like-food/water/breathing :P)

Me: Swimming. Running. Cycling.(Iknow they are three things, but I couldnt help it!) They basically help me get my mind off the stuff bothering me. Makes me think better, get a better hold of myself, and also get my creative juices flowing. I get ideas, and feel inspired. Scientifically speaking, they make my heart pump blood at a faster rate, making blood rush to my brain, thus making me think. Which I tend to do. A lot. Which is good and bad. So, I cant live without it. 

Q: If there was a complaint box where you could drop in complaints about life, what would you complain about and why?
Me: I do complain about life being unfair. A lot, actually. But, that is me being my whiny, old self. I have seen under-privileged people, and I actually am thankful for however my life is.

Q: Share a quote/book/song/book that has always inspired you.
Me: Fight Club changed my perspective about everything in life, and can gladly say that it was one of the best things that happened to me. My personal fave, has to be
"I say never be complete, I say stop being perfect...I say lets evolve, let the chips fall where they may."- Tyler Durden.

Q: Whats your favourite childhood memory?
Me: When you say childhood memories, the one image that pops up in my mind is of my parents and I, in UK. We lived in Manchester, and every weekend my parents used to take me to this park somewhere faraway, for a day-trip. And it was windy. Very windy. With the perfect amount of sun. Picture Perfect. Life was perfect.

Q: One fictional character you'd like to switch places with?
Me: Tintin! I'd love to go about solving mysteries without a care in the world. And, and, and with Snowy by my foot at all times!

Q: What brightens your mood when you feel dejected?
Me: Grey's Anatomy. It is one thing that has a fixed slot in my non-existent time-table. It makes me laugh, cry, drool(McDreamy, anybody? ), shout, squeal and scream. And, it gives me the assurance that there is somebody else, somewhere in the world is facing problems worse than mine(Even if the"people" is fictional)

Q: Do you think compromises and adjustments are necessary for a relationship to work? Why or why not?
Me: Definitely.

Q. Given a chance to relive one day of your life, which one would it be and why?
Me: A day? Thats tough, actually. I would prefer to say the summer of '10. That was when my Cindy gave birth to nine wonderful pups. And, my whole summer vacation I was around those babies...doing every single thing with or for them. It has got to be one of the best vacations EVER!

Q: Whats your idea of fun?
Me: I am quite the people-person, but I really love to curl up in sweats with a blanket, alone at home, with my cellphone next to me..and unwind with a good movie(probably with some hot guy fighting goons..) with a tub of watermelon icecream.

Q: Whats the qualification for the perfect guy?
Me: I dont really know. Havent given much of a thought to it...Let him have a heart, to begin with. And, for me actions count..sometimes more than words. So, he should be expressive. 

Q:  If you were given a chance to take revenge on someone, who would they be and how would you do it?(If you dont wish to give the name, you can just state what the person did.)
Me: I believe in Karma. So, do whatever bad you do to me and Im sure Karma will come and bite your ass, someday. Atleast, I wish.

Phew! A big task crossed off my list of things to do!
You have no idea how long it took me to write this post...it was a draft for more than two weeks. And, Im really tired now. So, Im just planning on saving the "pass on the award" thing for some other time. Sorry.
Thats all for now, folks.

Ciao =) xx

And, you cause their jaws to drop. Like a Boss.

So, I went to the movies today. Saturday, morning. Empty mall. Fairly full theatre.
Once, the movie was over my friend and I shopped. Like till our knees dropped (Exaggeration, but yeah well..) and decided to make a pit stop and grab coffees. As we waited for our order, I took out my phone and started going through my messages. I just looked around the place, when I suddenly spotted a familiar face riding down the escalator. It was this cute guy who hosts a popular weekend prime time reality show. No biggie. I didnt even know his name. My friend told me '-.-
Nevertheless, I asked him for a picture..Cuz I felt that spark. Something that was missing, since a long time. The Dr. Doofenshmirtz spark B|
So, the gals at school are crazy about him. And, when I go back to school on Monday, they are gonna be So. So jealous.
Bwahahahahahaha...
And, and, and I feel good. Like after sucha long time. Its as if Im outta that gloomy phase..or whatever. But, Im happy. Im evil. Yeah, man.
Im back, Bitches.

Thats all I have time for, loves.

Later.

=) xx

And that's what happens when the only voice she hears, is telling her she can't. Stupid boy.

If some people in this whole, wide world would act mature enough, then this planet be a much better place to reside on.
And, then theres always Venus.

Those days.

There are just those days, when I wish I could
- Not get out of the bed.
- Rethink, and regret previous decisions..decisions taken hastily.
- Imagine what would have happened if I would have acted differently
- Stay in bed, and think.
- Wish someone would go and get me marshmallow sticks cuz I dont feel like getting outta the bed
- Forget that I have prelims the next month.
- Im over Adam Levine  Im not.
- Not get outta the bed.
- Wish humans could go into hibernation.
- Not do any goddamn thing.
- Forget about everything bad.
- Hear Harry Styles' voice for real.

Rainy days and lovers who dont bring flowers.

What time is it, where you are?
I miss you more than anything..
Im back at home, you feel so far,
Waiting for the phone to ring..
Its getting lonely living upside down,
I dont even wanna live in this town.
Trying to figure out the timezone, is making me crazaay..

You say good morning, when its midnight,
Going outta my head, alone in this bed.
I wake up to your sunset,
Its driving me mad, I miss you so bad!

More than just a Memory.

I was lost in my own world of thoughts, when suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around, and stopped dead in my tracks.

It was him. It had to be. 

There was no mistaking those hazel-brown eyes. 

All those years passed had shown an effect on him. His hair was now long, curly and prevented from running wild in all directions by a rubber band. Just like him. He had become visibly muscular. And perhaps tanned, too. A tattoo peeking through the hem of his tee. I wondered what it would be. A dragon, or a skull maybe. Thats was what we mostly used to go crazy about. 

He was one person who had no problem with my tom-boyness. Infact, he was more than happy to have a "brother" rather than a sister, being the only child. He always had the coolest stuff and brought me all sorts of it too. Sometimes it was that brown bracelet that I later called my rockstar charm or the sweatshirt with some punk-emo ish graphic on it.

This wildcat was my once-dearest cousin. Until, someday he ran off leaving everything behind to pursue his dream. After which, his parents disowned him. For now, lets call him- Al

I still remember the day he left. It was a day after I turned 10. He had gifted me a tee with Danger is my beat written on it. At that time itself it was a couple of sizes larger for me, nevertheless I wore it every other day. (And even when it was about to tear, I  made a few amends to it and started wearing it as a cropped tee) Little did I know that was the last time I'd see him for years.

I cried and cried till my tear ducts went dry. I realized he isn't coming back. Not now, not ever. I tried to get up, and stumbled. 

But, after a while did manage to get up, brushed my knees and started afresh. Yeah, well I was 10, but I somehow clutched onto every good memory I had of his, and went on with my life. Still trying to ignore that part of my head that wondered how he didn't think of saying goodbye to me, even once before leaving.

Well here he is now, standing right in front of me. 

I suddenly gathered my bearings, and tried to concentrate on what he was saying. 

"Sach... Look at you! You look like a girl! "

"Sorry?" I was still too lost in my thoughts, and snapped back to reality.

Considering I was wearing  a  black tee, jeans and my Nike sneakers; that was not the first thing I expected him to say. But then I got what he was trying to do- go for the jovial mood, and ease off my fury.

Mo, protectively stood by me throughout. I guess he thought Al looked fishy... and ready to do anything, if Al so much as lay a fingernail on me.

"You have grown so much! Its great to see you! You seem almost as tall as me!" He said.

"Sorry, but who are you?" I couldn't forgive him, neither could I let my hidden pain resurface. No way, after all these years.

"Aren't you Sachi? You don't remember me? Im Al, your brother? " He seemed genuinely puzzled, now.

Mo was about to say something, when I silently nudged his foot. Thankfully he understood, and kept quiet.

"Im sorry, but no. Im not your "Sachi". And I don't know any Al. The only Al I knew died, four years ago. So, Im sorry. But, you are sadly mistaken." Having said all I had to, I grabbed Mo's arm and started to walk in the other direction.

"Wait. Im sorry. I really am. I know I shouldn't have done, what I did. It was wrong. Completely wrong. I regret my decision. Well, not all of it. But, yeah most of it." He said while holding my other hand. All this while my gaze settled on the row of shops on the opposite side of the hallway. If he thought he could just come in front on me and I'd welcome him back with a smile, he was wrong. 

I stopped begrudgingly. I stared at his hand holding mine, and glared at him.

"Leave my hand" I hissed.

"Please! One chance! Lemme explain..? Are your parents here?" He asked.

"No. That's none of your business." I snapped back. Seeing he had now loosened his grip on my arm, I walked in the other direction. Mo marched alongside, keeping up with my pace. 

It had been four years. Four whole years. And without any warning he pops in front of me, in the most random place- The mall.
 Mo and I were wandering together, probably for the last time, before he left. It was supposed to be a memorable day. Now, there was no way it was gonna leave my memory. All due to the wrong reason.

All these years, there was not a word from him. No call, no email. Nothing. Sometime, along the years I heard from my uncle, that he was caught with drugs. That was the moment when I realized that the Al I knew was really no more. I started stalking him on facebook. I dont know why I did, but that gave me a sort of an assurance that he's still alive.

 He had supposedly started a company of his own, along with a friend. And now,  they were pretty successful too. And, I was happy for him. He had left home to follow his dream, and ended up happy. So,yeah I was happy for him too. Does not mean Im suddenly forgiving him.

Haikus, Ironies and a Pile of Hamburgers.

Okay, so here I am. At 1am. Sleep just not ready to come and grace me with her presence, even after listening to a bunch of hindi romantic songs. And none of the guys available to text, they always put their phones on silent mode before hitting the sack, though I wonder why.
Laying in bed, I start to think about tomorrow's exam. Its the last one, and its English. Okay, mind you English in GCSE is tough, but there's nothing you could actually study for. Its like either you have those language skills, or not.
But, my exam was far from my mind here. I actually thinking about my previous English teacher.
And, he was not your average good 'ol english teacher. He was different.
From his 6-inch mohawk, to his arms full of tattoos, Mr. D was intimidating from Day 1. From the time he had entered our first English class in Grade 9, the guys had instantly taken liking to him. He was the ultimate definition of a "cool" teacher.
For starters he allowed us to curse in class. Not that it mattered to me, but 'twas definitely a big plus point for him, as 90% of the class instantly thinking he was "the best".
In almost every class of his, the discussion would turn to either Illuminati or the ongoing football matches or how Twilight sucks. And that constant bickering between the guys(which now included Mr.D, too)always earned them an eye-roll from me.
Those constant debates over Americans or Brits, Soccer or football, Blackberry or Any other company!
And, he almost never took a class in a class! As in, he never conducted a class in a classroom. Whenever the bell rang for his period, our spirits were automatically lifted as we made our way to the resource room or the audio-visual room. Where, he would show us videos of different not-so-famous-but-with-a-strong-perspective videos and make us actually ponder over matters that mattered.
Also, the fact that he (in all his right senses) asked us to burn ourn our textbooks, did the final deed of landing him in the #1 spot on our list of favourite teachers!
It was like he had decided not to follow the mediocre ways of teaching, instead take on the path of making us good, world citizens with ofcourse, a proper command over the language...
In his quest to do the same, we picked up of things,you may say that we previously hadn't and would possibly not forget over the years..
And some of them being Haikus and ironies. We had these extensive debates on whether the mentioned statements were ironies or not!
He always taught us to make our own, individual perspective. Irrelevent of what other people think.

And, Haiku's were a delight! We had to come up with one, as a part of our weekend homework. But at the end of that weekend- zilch, nada. I just couldnt  make one (And we had also sworn to him, that we would never use the aid of the internet to do our English homework, so that option was out too..)
But after two long weeks of brainstorming, I came up with this:

Sock and shoes make a pair
Just like Pitt and Anniston did

Brad and Jenny had a tiff
Angie took advantage
Stole Pitt

Socks and shoes fell apart
Just as Pitt and Anniston did

Yeah, lame. I know. And, probably it wasn't even fitting the proper conditions of a Haiku. But it was the least I could think of! And, he appreciated it  B|
And then the fact that he gave us group assignments, made the class even more enjoyable. Like, there was this one assignment where we had to create a story which had random characters like Lady Gaga. I mean, Lady Gaga! Which normal teacher would do that?! Thats why we loved him.
Also we had this assignment where we make a short story, anything pertaining to our interests, and then go on to make a comic strip on it! I mean, how cool can English get!?

Mr.D was the conductor of our weekly movie clubs. Almost the whole of the high school had signed up for it. Trust me, Im not exaggerating.
The movies he showed us were decided by him on not their being suitable for our viewing, but on their content. And, by that I certainly do not mean Heidi or Jane Eyre. The movie club had started with Fight Club as its very first movie. And I literally fell in love with that movie. The other movies we saw (and I loved) were The Illusionist,  Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, Dead Poets' Society, School of Rock among others.

His adorable handwriting on the green-board, the way he used to hold the chalk...literally had us die with laughter!

But, jokes aside. What I really like about him, was him. He was originally, him. Gosh, I dont even know whether that makes sense.. Its just that he inspired us to think creative. And be ourselves.

And, reasons why I hate my new English teacher. Frankly, I dont think I have any.
Its just the idea of her, being his replacement that bothers me. Its just that I act like such an obstinate mule in her class, refusing to do anything she asks me straight away and never answering her properly; makes her hate my guts. And, in order to instigate her, I wrote this rebellious essay in my review, expecting a low grade and a long lecture. But she gave me the highest marks and even read out my essay to the whole class. Talk about embarrassment -.-

That's all for now. I wrote this in an utterly agitated and sleepy state, so please excuse my rants one more time?



Later.



Ciao ;) xx

The sun has got its hat on, Its cold..

So, I was just going throught my blog list and noticed that my past few posts have been  way too self-absorbed gloomy.

So, I decided to bring back the sunshine, of Bombay Sunshine. Sounds cheesy, right? Yeah, well. Nevermind.

Harry doin it the Gangnam style ;)

Niaaaall *____*

So I gotta run, loves. Thats all for now.

Later :) xx

Days turn to sand, losing all the strength in hand.

My Life sucks. Everything in it sucks.
Change is the principle of the universe- They say.
Changes suck.
They suck.

Exactly a year back, I was in my old home, perhaps sound asleep. But here I am.
New house, new car, new school. And perhaps, a new me.

When I think about it, I simply feel I prefer the new me. I know the older me was different.
If I say that there are times that I crave to be the older me, is there something wrong with me?

Maybe I prefer the truth not coming out. It'll make that douchebag realize the extent to which I miss him.
 He, instead might take pride in it. Who knows?
God, he has changed too.
 For now, lets call him-Ted.
Whenever I see him these days, he is with this other girl he's supposedly dating, a year junior to us.

I think I should've known.

Replaced. So easily I was taken outta his life, and replaced. All those promises of calling, with every detail, along with the momentary trust I had in them, broken.
 Even if I tried, I couldnt go on forever.

Forever. A word, I no longer had faith in.

The bad part was that I still loved him.
But this love was different. It was understanding, supporting and admiring each other. It was love, but of a different sort.
Definitely.
It was like, our own brand of love.

He was there for me. Always.
My dad often had to go abroad, for months together. And every time he left, I was teary-eyed. I had to act strong in front of mum, and my brother. I couldnt help it. I was their Iron-man.
He was always there,lending me a shoulder to cry on. The breakdowns I had with him, were our secrets.

He was one person who could bear my grumpy mood.
Whenever I was pissed at him, he knew how to steer himself out of trouble..so well.


Look, we were not made for each other. We just chose to stay together. He was the best friend I ever had.



Now, you'd be like, why are you writing all this here?
Yeah, you should not read ahead. No, seriously.

I just dont know what happened.

The exasperation I faced after seeing him in his new life, led me to deactivate my facebook account. I just wanted to go ahead and finish what he did.
Break all sources of connection with him.


He was an integral part of Me.

I just dont know what happened. We grew apart, maybe? I dont know.

After him, I had just found this way of steering myself away from everybody.

Dont get me wrong. The people at my new school,  are really nice. But, I used to feel they were very two-faced. All of them. Almost.
Then came Ananya.

She took his first step towards me, and somehow managed to crack the shell I had built around myself and let herself in.

I just somehow find myself being better friends with guys. Well, I do have girls as friends too, but somehow nobody was that close to me.
Maybe, thats the baggage you get, when you're quite the tomboy.
I dont know, I just somehow tried to steer myself away from gossip, and other girly stuff. Its always been that way.
I preferred over-sized tees, to tank tops. And jeans to skirts.
Until, now. More on that later.
It was always Linkin Park, never Taylor Swift.
Blah, I despise her. She always seems to be cribbing bout how perfect or imperfect her life is.
God. Is that what Im doing now?
Tell me it isnt. Please?

I dont think this is working
Freezing so hard, my hands are hurting
Ought to let go in the first place

And I put the phone on the front lawn
Everything that shows time is gone
Im outside looking for you

If  everthing'd stop I'll listen for your heart 
To lead me right to you, yeah
I tried every way I can.

Later.