Hogwarts will always be my home.

How I found Harry Potter? Not through the books. It was in the year 2002, when I first saw the CD of a movie named Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s stone lying in my uncle’s collection. It looked interesting… with cute Daniel Radcliffe playing the Harry Potter. I wasn’t expecting to be entertained for the rest of my life when I push in the CD into the player that faithful afternoon. To say the least I was hooked. But you have no idea how I felt when I read the 4th book and then the 2nd book and then the 1st book! (Messed up I know!). I was travelling with my parents on a long train journey and I don’t think I even lifted my head up before I completed the chamber of secrets. I assume I made quite the impression on all my fellow passengers by laughing to myself and crying my eyes out at nothing. It was a ride! I will never forget the feeling… it was true love. I think I actually made myself believe for a while there that this book was based on true facts and happening. That there really was a school called Hogwarts where gifted students went to hone their magic skills. I think even tried to see if I had any by some chance. Though it already was a little late by them, I was 14. I could not wait for the fifth book. I actually read Goblet of fire so many times that the spine broke! And even though it was sad to come to realize slowly that it was really a story and there was no hidden school of magic, I have come to know that Hogwarts will always be a special place and I will always have a home there. Thank you for sharing your beautiful world with the rest of us Queen J.K. Rowling.
This beautiful ring is made by @thebookishpandora on Instagram and it has one of the most loved quote from the book – After all this time? Always… 


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?!


Another truth this new year. 😉
When I write I am always the victim. The truth is I always try to write stuff from the prospective of the other side of the story. And I was always so engrossed in looking the other way and trying to find why someone would do wrong, how someone who does wrong is also suffering, I forgot to look at the side where people actually get hurt. Mostly my stories are about some emotions I am feeling and writing kind of exaggerates it. I build up stories and maybe in some way try to prove to myself that I am not in the wrong or that, if I did something horrible it’s because I had a valid reason behind it. Reasons which no one could see and hence no one would ever understand. I always tried to find ways to play the victim. But the thing is I did hurt people. No matter what my intentions were, what my back story was. I am hurting people. I have hurt people. Because I was too stubborn to see the things as they were. Maybe because I thought I could never do anything wrong. I tried too much to romanticize every situation. And I got fed up of myself.
In reality I am a cruel person. Maybe it’s the only way I can hide my hyper-sensitivity. Maybe I am just not a good person. I don’t know. There is no excuse for being this way. I just don’t like appearing weak and needy. I hate asking for help, for favors, for anything which would put me in someone else’s debt. I hate owning the imaginary ‘IOUs’. I think everyone should just shut up about themselves and just bear their share of emotional burden and everything they think is wrong with the world.
The way I do it is through writing. I forget that not everyone is like me (And thank God for that!). Everyone vents out in different ways. They do not have the same outlet to vent frustration as me. And they don’t need to. My way is no ‘righter’ than their’s.
When I look back and go through stuffs that I wrote, I see that I am always the one being wronged. The fact is, I can, and no one can stop me from writing the way I want to, from being who I am, for feeling the way I feel. It might not be conventional, but it’s me. And I don’t care if they judge me. And in the same way, they too are right to use any means they find comfortable to share emotions. If they want to whine their heart out or if they want to keep it quiet and gulp down that shot. I am no one to judge them. I don’t know how to get over this judgmental attitude. Is just ignoring them the right way??!
I guess I am kind of obsessed with the right thing the right way and the right everything!
I forget that there is no one right way of doing stuff. I realize that I am not here to find the right or the wrong ways. It’s neither my responsibility nor my place to play moral police. I should learn to just live my own life the way I see fit and the way I enjoy it the most. What matters is the right way for me. I only want to be proud of myself, what I do and look myself in the mirror and love myself and sleep with peace at night.


I usually never make new year resolutions. I know I am too fickle to follow anything for a whole year! Being fickle and having a short attention span is one thing I am consistent with. The only thing maybe.
So this new year of 2015, I thought, why not instead of making a “what I will do“resolutions which mostly probably hardly lasts a week at most, I’d start with a little bit of truth. 
I love Taylor Swift songs! Almost all of them. I don’t know about the person but her songs and her lyrics are awesome. She is talented and I constantly listen to her new 1989 album. In fact that’s the only album playing in my playlist since I downloaded it!
Yup that was it! My guilty pleasure! Lol! Even though I act all cool and tough and indifferent in the real world, inside I am a super romantic, romance loving, pink loving, girly girl. And I love heartbreaks! Stories, songs, quotes, everything love related. I relate with them or I imagine identifying with them probably!

24 years of life

It’s said we never stop being a student… life is a constant teacher and its lessons are never ending… I have used this sentence too many times in my life, but never really appreciated the beauty of the truth behind it. the best teacher is the one who doesn’t makes us realize that they are making us learn something new, when learning occurs in the course of enjoying the moments… when learning occurs silently… and leaves us amazed every time we stop to look around, at all that we have learned…
Life passes on… there are too many stories in my life… and I don’t know how to share it with the world…. I have all this emotions running in my heart and I don’t know how to express it. They are so beautiful. All these stories full of memories, I don’t think I know how to use words to justify them… I feel lost in the maze of so many story… every one of them different…. Everyone of them with strings of memories attached… some happy and some not so… but all of them leave me amazed at the life I have lived till now… it’s like counting my blessings… which I have never done cause I never thought I had any special miracles happening in my life to be acknowledge… but I now feel blessed… at having received so much… now that another phase of my life ends… time for reflection starts…
I have always been a pessimist all my life, always expecting the worst. But I guess there is still a optimist hidden somewhere inside me, because I keep getting disappointed, cause I have not yet been able to kill the part of me that expects more than the best in people and situations!! Now that I take time to look back, I see all the times when this hidden optimism had pulled me through… left me teary eyed and pushed me to push myself….
Someone once taught me to approach life with subdued aggression, so as to appear approachable while still never losing sight of the goal. I am much too lazy for that. I don’t have the patience to keep up a front I don’t believe in… either I go full throttle or I don’t go at all… this middle ka “na yaha ka na waha ka” funda (neither here nor there) doesn’t works with me. I am an all or nothing sort of person. But having experienced life up till this point, I understand the wisdom in those words. And it has become the new motto of my life, my new life.
I am a 24 years old, entering the professional world for the first time. The experience is both a shock and a relief, with hints of what “financial independence” feels like.

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…

truth about love

And someday i wish I can call you mine & you can call me yours
for our life to start and end together….
And its True, I can’t live without You….
My heart beats for you and only you

lovely lines right? Don’t remember from where I got it.. But its one of  my favorites. I always thought love to be like this. This burning desire to always be together, forever.

In reality, love is a lot different than what we get to read in novels and fictions and in Cinderella stories.. there is no prince charming and no magic kisses to wake you up from your bad dreams… its a constant series of sacrifices. You really can’t have everything at the same time – friends, love, family. No matter how hard you try, you are always going to have to disappoint some one or the other. Before it happens to us, we always criticize others for changing after they fall in love. Some change more than others. But do you ever stop to think, maybe that person changed because that was the only way possible to go ahead, that maybe they didn’t want to change anymore than you wanted them to, that maybe they were forced to change…

Love is hard.. harder than the movies we see. there are no easy happy ending.