We had been friends for more than 7 years…

Seven years curse. Seven years itch. Friendship longer than seven years. Seven years do not matter. I have stopped believing in permanence of anything. Most of all friendship.

I am grateful for the time we had. At least I got to experience all those years with you, when I believed we would have each other forever. It hurts my heart to look back now. Even to look at you. Wishing for future that does not exist. I sometimes cannot believe that there is no going back. All those years together… I never though, not in a million years that we would be strangers one day. But here we are. Strangers with a history.


Sadness in retrospect

These are not memories I think about often. But when you are in the mood for retrospective, the odd bits flash across your mind. I tend to remember sadness in exaggerated colours. That’s my flaw. I remember the tones, the fall in the pit of my stomach, the tightening of my throat. The feelings.

I don’t like thinking about it all. But maybe I am drawn to it. The romaticization of it. It’s so much easier to write about sadness. The hollow in your heart, the doors you keep close all the time. It leaks though. Doesn’t it? The pain.

I am not a forgiving person. The bad bits just keep floating around my head. So, I can’t forgive or forget. I don’t do it on purpose. But maybe I like collecting them. A bit like a memory keeper aren’t I? Makes you think, what made this person tick this way…

I have been harsh to so many people, I don’t know why it surprises me when they are harsh to me too. My teacher once told me, the best way to not be disappointed is to not have any expectations. But it’s pretty hard. The not expecting bit. You don’t know what you start expecting from people until they disappoint you. And then you are to blame for setting them up the way you did in your mind.

To quote Taylor Swift, “people are people and sometimes it doesn’t work out”. So what do I do to get over such people and such memories? No easy way out. Can’t flush them into the void. Got to wait for it to fade. And hope that your memory isn’t as long as you think. Hope that you make enough memories to replace the bad ones. Hope that they are powerful enough to push the bad ones out of your head.Me… 

Things that make me sad

​Not having the courage to heal a wound (mental of course!).

Not being able to let go of things (as in intangibles. So not things – feelings)

Memories I hold on to (inside my head – it’s like a 22ltrs bucket inside here)

I am not perfect. I have hurt a lot of people. And I have not been sorry for being cruel. I took pride in being heartless and detached and straight forward with my words. Maybe.. aahh fuck it. I know this is the reason I don’t have a lot of friends and why so many don’t like me. I still have difficulties accepting some of these facts. But I know I have problems I need to urgently work on. Losing my temper at the drop of a hat being one of them. Hurting close ones being another. Does skin problems also count? Skin is after all, the largest organ in human body (don’t correct me if I am wrong).

Anyway, I have read enough stories and articles to psycho-analyze, I am arrogant. I feel I am superior to others (I also feel inferior to others! Talk about paradox! Also happens to be my favourite word – paradox, irony, and oxymoron). I expect perfect grammar from people whose first language is not English (spelling… not so much). I pride myself on being secular. Not really. Deep down I know all of us are racist. I love putting people down. So these are my shortcomings. Oh yes. I almost forgot, lazy. And I almost almost! did not want to write gluttony. 

But I am still human (gluttony giving away the game here). Even if I fall under maybe the worst kinds, I do get hurt. As it happens to be, I think I might be hyper sensitive. Such a bad mental condition to have (not that having any mental condition is good). I wish there was a permanent solution to this problem. Like switching off the humanity switch in vampire diaries (YES! I did watch those series of never ending series!!!). I wish we had it in real life as well. Sometimes, I spout fountains of fugly emotions and I would very much like to turn that tap off. If only!! But I did read somewhere that it is coming to an end. Vampire Diaries of course, not me spouting nonsense.

So today this torrent/ tirade/ barrage of words are spilling from my fingers because it happens to be a special day. I wonder if I will ever ever grow up. I am so tired of this behavior of mine. Believe me. I almost want to kick myself in the head for behaving the way I do. But not quite. I have huge thighs so it’s not practically possible. Because, gluttony.

So what I am saying is, I maybe one messed up piece of shitty fish but I got a heart too (Humans can’t function without one it seems). And I do realize I have made mistakes and I don’t want to say sorry for them (go figure!). And words really are my true friends. That sentence was quite random, but I like it there. Make what you want of it. I have said my piece. Maybe now the stupid heart will rest in peace (or rather beat in peace). But only until it feels I have embarrassed myself enough to last a while. Did anyone catch that rhyming I got going there?

See you next time I embarrass myself in public. 

P.S – did I forget to mention the special occasion?


P.P.P.S – is it really necessary? I could start a different article. But I did use a fuck in this one though. And I did use gluttony thrice in one article. It’s fast turning into my favourite word. Hmmm… 

P.P.P.P.S – this article was supposed to be about things that make me sad. What is this?


To ‘Once-upon-a-time’ friendship

Dear once-upon-a-time-best-friend,

It’s been quite a long time since we have been in touch. I remember our last conversation. You congratulating me on the gold medal, me accepting the wishes graciously. Very unlike us. I remember that night clear as day. Talk about paradox. I remember the days leading up to it quite clearly too. I remember writing that acceptance speech, trying to be all grown up. But the best part of that speech came the night before the graduation ceremony. When I tried to make up with you. But was met with empty corridors. The tears that night really burned a hole and the words were beautiful. I can never forgive you. And I know you do not seek it, do not even know the impact it had left on me. Well, you didn’t care. You never did. I shouldn’t have either. But I did. Foolish huh.

I know I was at fault. I had hurt your feelings. That is why I tried. But I guess it was too late by then. I am sorry for that. You do not know how much. But I am. Still. I wish I had done things differently. But the past is what it is. I can only work on my present and my future. I say this with all my heart that I hope I have matured since then. Although I don’t know for sure. One never knows. Until tested. And I hope I don’t get tested anytime soon. I am still fragile. Because I still can’t forgive you. This is the truth. I have learned to live with it running in the background, it has become part of the white noise inside my brain. But I still haven’t moved on. I don’t know if I ever will. Hence all the sad sob shares on social media. I try hard to make up for your absence in my life. Most times I don’t even care. But days like this leave me wistful.

Special days. I hate them the most. I like the monotony now. It’s comforting. Something I can depend on. Sometimes when I hear you being mentioned by our mutual friends, my heart skips a beat, I don’t always know how to react. So I choose the easy way, I ignore it. I still haven’t told my mom about us. She thinks we just drifted apart. Somehow it feels like if I tell another person about us, you will be forever lost. Somehow, someone else knowing we are no longer friends would make the fact concrete. As though it isn’t already so. I am such a fool sometimes.

I still miss you. I miss you most when I hear my new friends reminiscing about their college days like they were last night. I have no stories. Not anymore. I wish I could be part of theirs but I can’t. I am adrift. Sometimes I think it’s for the best. This way there is less chance of getting hurt or hurting others. I am especially cruel with people I love. Don’t ask how I got so screwed up. But I like running away from love. Just another damaged good. Let’s leave it at that. Nothing new. No use romanticizing this broken-ness. I have read enough posts to know how one can start loving this misery, this notion of being a victim. I at least have not stooped to that level. Tears still are a sign of weakness and if you can’t live your life just because of a mistake you made, you are pathetic. Tears are to be shed in the darkness of the night, only to be shared with your pillow. This is my notion of adulthood. Maybe because I look through a cracked glass. I like to know the other side of the story too.

I hope you are happy. You were always such a congenial person. I know life would be a breeze for you. Or I hope so. Anyway, happy friendship day to you and your friends. Late though I might be, my wishes for you are true.

From your once-upon-a-time-best-friend.

P.S – not really sure if I actually was your Best Friend or was it all just inside my head?!


There are people in our lives who push and pull us towards or from our goals. I don’t think destiny is a fixed design of our future. I believe I am capable of changing it with every choice I make. I don’t know how to write exactly what I feel. There are so many emotions churning inside of my head.

Coming back home this time felt like coming out of the eye of the hurricane. I see all the distractions which are keeping me away from my goals. It’s not their fault. It’s all because I am weak. I have allowed them to pull me away from my dreams. It made me realize how temporary our feelings are, how easily they can be distracted, manipulated or played with…

Before I met him, I believed myself to be a strong person. I thought I was in control of my feelings. I thought I was good at building walls. I guess I was wrong. I had all these misconceptions about myself because I hadn’t met a worthy opponent who could break me down.

I guess now that I have put into words what he is to me, I can start to fight him. He has turned me into a person I never thought I would be. I know he is cruel, ruthless and selfish. But I AM STRONGER. I am stronger than him and I am going to overcome the chains of his bonds.

I wanted us to be friends. I thought he was someone who understood me, who viewed the world as I did. I thought we had a lot in common. I didn’t realize, he was just acting the part to fit my perceptions or expectations. Of course now I understand him. I feel sorry for him. Now I know he is lost. He is cannot help it. He is sinking. And if I don’t let him go now, he is going to pull me down with him.

Once upon a time, I would willingly have drowned with him… to be with him. I guess I did grow up after all. He has been the best teacher I could expect from life. Thanks to him I now know myself better.


I heard somewhere that every relationship depends on timing. Mine always seem to be happening at the wrong time…

Seeing you, even a glimpse of you… makes my heart flutter. I don’t like it and I don’t need it at this point in time. But stupid heart doesn’t listens. Why is it taking so much time to get over you?? To tell you the truth, I never let myself believe that I was ever in love with you. Maybe I wasn’t, maybe it was just a strong infatuation, maybe it was just a mistake caused because of forced companionship, and maybe it was just love… I remember all the time I spent wondering whether by letting you go without trying was the biggest mistake of my life. Whether I was surrendering a bit too soon… what if you were my soul mate, what if I was giving up too soon, what if… but then you didn’t even believe in soul mates…

I have got a stronger grip on my feeling now. Or maybe I just got better at hiding it. But still there is this crushing feeling every time I see you… is it because I still can’t fool my heart? When will I stop feeling this way about you?

Should I give up,
Or should I just keep chasin’ pavements?
Even if it leads nowhere
Or would it be a waste
Even if I knew my place
Should I leave it there…

adel said it all..

paradox of reality

He fascinates me… I didn’t think it possible for a guy to be capable of having such complex character. It’s hard to decipher him, which is why I want to do it even more. It’s like a game we play, both of us, trying to understand each other… Trying to find who’s going to crack first. Guess I am the one losing here, not because I am cracking but because of this insuppressible feeling that I want to… what makes it even more frustrating is the fact that I know I shouldn’t be feeling this way in the first place. Trying to remember the point in time when it all started… This game of hide and seek, the time when it was possible to have given a different direction to our relationship.

It’s so tiring sometimes to always have to hide behind walls, to always have to listen to the reasonable side of me, to always be reminded of what’s wrong and right. Although I might add that lately these walls have been of not much use, as I tend to jump them at every opportunity possible and then end up in tears later when what I knew would happen actually happens… I wonder how many times I need to make the same mistake to learn to stop doing them. Blame it on my over-sensitive hyper-emotional heart! Fool that it is.

I can’t remember a time where I didn’t have to go through dealing with this big mess of feelings, when I didn’t have to always feel two conflicting emotions at all time. Even if I am doing something right, there is always a nagging feeling in the back of my head telling me, I really don’t want to do it even if it’s right. Does that make me a bad person?? Always thought it was a side effect of having lived too long in the imaginary world of knights in shining armour and princesses… where you could be sure of an ending which was satisfying at the very least, if not happy.

Huh, I miss the times spent melting into my bed and into the world of stories. I remember when and how this love for stories started… from colorful books of poetry… The jataka tales bought by parents and monthly edition of champaks taken from an elder brother’s room… remember the time I started to make a world of fiction of my own along with the famous five and the secret seven of Enid Blyton. It’s really hard to come back to reality after having lived too long inside my own head… people really are as bad, horrible, backstabbing as my parents warned me of. And equally unexpectedly kind, warm and caring… I feel I am living in a paradox…