Tuesday, November 13, 2012

This is how much life is.

Grab a chocolate bar or a cup of hot coffee. Snuggle in your bed. Take a deep breath. Forget who you are. Forget what you have done till now. Now read.

Fall in love. Go mad. Fall out of it. Go madder. And fall in love again. Have your heart broken at least a couple of times. Lose hope. And see it renewed in the new person to whose magic your heart tugs you to sway to. Whether it is your neighbor, your school/college mate, a random stranger you’d met on the street, colleague, friend of a friend of a friend of a friend or even a friend you’d not had love interest in until that magical moment, just fall in love. Float in the air till it lasts. Love like you’ve loved none before.

Get laid. Know that losing your virginity is simply overrated and the pain might even seem pointless. And then get to know that there is much more to lovemaking than porn movies give away. Learn the sexiness in hugging and cuddling. Master the art of almost kissing. Get to know that nothing beats sleeping within breathing distance. Stay awake long enough to feel the rise and fall in breath. Hang on till the very puff of air gives you the tingling feeling. Resist touching. Let your senses rush. Now learn the magic that touching another’s skin holds. The pulsating feeling will rise until the actual act. Several times later, you’ll know that that is how far it gets; the rest is just a formality.

Travel. Move your bottom and slowly let yourself learn and soak in new cultures. Lose yourself in the history hidden in the roads and buildings there. Strike a conversation with a random stranger. Sleep on a blanket under the night sky. Huddle in a tent in the middle of nowhere. Alright. Somewhere. Take a boat ride. Hire a string quartet. Strike a carefree romantic encounter. Go on a trekking expedition you are not so sure you’d return alive from. Come back alive from the dead. Boast of completing at least three different daredevil adventure activities. Go skinny dipping. Know what it is to actually shiver and burn. Feel like you belong and shift bases again. Have at least a couple of movie moments in your life to reminisce about when your legs no longer give way.

Read. Rediscover yourself in paperbacks. Write a few if you can. Watch movies. Try making a few. Whether you succeed or fail, you find new ways to imagine. To think. To see. To live. To love. Click pictures. In or out of focus doesn’t matter as you will eventually realize. Even the blurred memories will keep you warm on that lonely, frosty day.

Make a friend or two. One of those types that’d be for the keeps. You could go chasing dimwits and this one’d still snigger and let you rant on about your ‘soul mate’ while patiently waiting for you to get your head knocked down and come scrambling home for a hug and a beer.

Forget the past. Forget the future. Forget ifs and buts and maybes and couldbes. Let go of whatever binds you, ties you down. Let go of fears and apprehensions. Let go of what you were, what you might be. The time is always now. What is real is just you, this feeling right inside your heart. Just shut everything else down and walk right ahead. At least you won’t have to regret losing an experience. There is no lifetime. Just a huge set of experiences.

If chance brings along a daughter or a son, be sure to pass your life as a fantasy to boldly embark on one day. 

This is honestly how much life is.

Sunday, July 15, 2012

On deactivating a facebook profile


So off late, I have been coming across this general tendency of people to label deactivating a facebook account as a ‘publicity stunt’ or a ‘girl thing.’ I beg to differ and this is my take on what could/might/will happen when you deactivate your facebook account.

You are going to be wonderfully surprised when you get to know who notices the absence of your profile first. As queries begin to flow, surprises will increase as you realize how many people had really bothered giving your profile a look at every day to notice that it is gone one fine day – they could be people who are genuinely interested in your life or what you think about certain aspects/things in life, or they could be expert stalkers. There is something quite personal in the way people text or call you up to inquire if you are fine. And there’s something very endearing in the way some make it a point to meet you in person and give you a hug before assuring you that it will all be okay and in all probability, they wouldn’t even be prying to know what exactly did happen.

You will think twice before automatically hitting the new tab short cut and typing ‘f...’ Logging in just for a peep would also mean reactivating the account and you’d remember you didn’t leave the place for no reason. You may migrate to twitter, gtalk, google+, but   everything and anything would make you feel like you have a much more personal conversation with the other person than just ‘liking’ pictures, stuff shared or posting on ‘walls.’  Facebook will flash the DPs of 5 people and say ‘These people are going to miss you’ as a final desperate attempt at playing with your emotions and making you stay and these 5 faces will somehow linger  in your mind for a long time to come.

You will be amazed by how less depressed and more at ease you feel by not knowing what goes in the lives of people around you. You will go back to visit your long-forgotten blog, web page or probably even end up renewing your gym or music classes to fit in to the huge amount of time you suddenly seem to have out of nowhere. You read more. You think more. The temptation to peek will take time dying down, especially when you know the password(s) of the facebook account(s) of your friend(s), but eventually, you will get around it.

You will probably go back to your phone and check out old text messages where someone had asked you to read or see something. You will finish checking out every webpage you had bookmarked. You might develop a whole new interest. Going for a walk and observing what people do apart from logging in to facebook every 10th minute will genuinely interest you. Instead of sneaking a look at the profile at the traffic signal, you’ll relax and let a song play on on your mobile. It will be quite entertaining to see how some friends really try to persuade you or blackmail you into joining the network again irrespective of whether they put it directly or subtly. They’ll mail you, call you, take you out and sometimes annoy the hell out of you. But at more than one occasion, these instances are going to fill your heart and make you realize how very dear even the profile that seemed so empty to you had meant to these people.

And more importantly, you might also get to know how one or more people whose presence on the cyber world mattered a lot to you had never once realized that you were off the network in the first place. They might tell you that they had barely logged in, they only barely glanced at their news feed, they certainly didn’t look at messages or wall posts, but when the duration we are talking about exceeds a week and still you end up hearing the above said, you simply need to know where you stand in their lives.

I am not saying that facebook is the beginning and the end of life, but for people like me, it has indeed become an integral part of our connectivity. When time asks for it, when we need to maintain some long-distance contacts or stay to fit in to a new environment, sites like this are a true life-saver. Of course I do not support the idea of deactivating the account at the drop of a hat, every alternative day. I don’t really have much respect for people who keep running away from their profiles and think that that would help them run away from reality as well and hence is the end of the problem. But it might be true that at least temporarily, that might be the beginning of you seeing/seeking a solution. And yes, this is a personal opinion.

If you haven’t done it before, take a break – a week, month, several months or maybe even a year. Get back if you want to or give yourself more time to explore away elsewhere. Either way, chances are that you will be gently amazed looking at, soaking in and living in the events that follow and you will see the world around and the people on it in an altogether different perspective. On the other hand, if you are never going to be up for it, at least understand this: if a friend has gone ahead and done it, either be there to give a hug and a chocolate or politely stay away. It might be your turn tomorrow to feel blue and you’re not going to enjoy being poked fun at, trust me.


Sunday, July 8, 2012

MCC - The first impression.

College and course have been chosen for a PG. M.A Communication at MCC it is.

Let’s start with what I already know for sure. The campus. Beautiful is an understatement. There’s this one particular road that I took a fancy to right from the first day I’d gone there for admissions. Just behind the main block or the administrative building or examination center (or whatever it is, I am yet to figure), past the canteen, on one side are these set of really tall, picturesque trees with pinkish white bell-shaped flowers on them and around them. Walk through them at some time past 4 in evening when the sunlight but graciously dances between them and for one fleeting moment, you will be lost in its beauty. I assure you, this is just the beginning.

So we go searching for the department and this sir brings us to this road, gives us directions to find our class and leaves us on our own. We count the roads branching away so as to take the correct left and when we arrive at the specified one, we are left wondering if we heard him right. There’s thick shrubbery on both the sides and at the far end, there seems to be a ground. We decide to walk along the dirt road and find out anyway, we are mildly surprised to find the specified building smugly sitting right at the specified spot. ‘If you had been on the main road outside, you would have never guessed that a building could be hiding in here!’ a classmate says loudly. A small voice in the head says, ‘Oh, boy. Welcome to MCC.’

I personally think our H.O.D’s amazing. Ramya ma’am. She’s got one hell of a voice to catch the attention of everyone. Then there is Benz sir. I somehow have a feeling he sees deep into you when his careless eyes but rest on you for a few seconds. There are these moments when he knowingly say the wrong fact just to initiate argument and initiation among the students and silently, with observant eyes, he would look at each student, smile a measured smile and then resort to bringing about peace in the classroom.  There’s someone I don’t particularly like yet. Methinks the person has no idea what he/she is doing.

Seniors decide to celebrate birthdays of Benz sir and H.O.D the next day and invite us. They surprise the teachers and they’re made to cut the cake. The usual singing and clapping and all. And then, like one carefree lot, there is a lot of running and chasing around and happy screaming and all us first years remain rooted to our spots, mouths a little open in surprise as we see teachers and students run around alike to either smear cake on someone’s face or escape from a similar attack from someone else. After they tire down, they pose together for pictures and make fun of each other and all this during class hours after which our H.O.D asks us all to take a quick break and get back to our respective classes.

Still dazed, we shuffle at the lab waiting for Benz sir who comes with the same quizzical smile and says, ‘This is a common sight you will gradually get used to at MCC. When there’s celebration, the teacher-student boundary vanishes, almost.’

We gather in front of the department the following day and Benz sir takes us to the theatre for a movie screening. A THEATRE! Now, how many colleges other in Chennai exactly do we know of that has/have a full-fledged movie theatre for academic purposes, and with properly functioning air-conditioners also? We watch ‘Peaceful warrior’, have a small discussion session later. It’s 4:30 and we get to go on a break and assemble later. Seriously, a 4-hour college with a 30 minutes break! Though I should probably add that when the last hour it’s Benz sir, it almost goes without question that you’re in campus till 6:30 is what I hear.

No, I am not going to be honest or anything to talk about classmates here. The ceremonial adding up of each other on facebook shall happen soon, methinks. 

There’s a lush green sight to behold everywhere. Boys and lots of them! Sometimes, it does slip my mind that I am no longer a UG student and that a lot of those boys could be much younger to me. This knowledge shall take time to get used to and shall remain a little scary also. I am getting old. You wouldn’t have to use your mobile phone in secret or worry about how long you talk/hang out with a person of the opposite gender. There’s barely any network on campus, which I kinda think is good. We tend to forget about the phones after a while and get to talking to the people around us. The temperature’s at least a few degrees lower than what is outside and if you are lucky, you get to see beautiful insects, birds and at times deer walking/hustling/flying past you. MCC is definitely the Arts Colleges’ answer to them sprawling IITs and the campus is nothing short of being poetic. Let’s hope I make some good friends and brilliant memories here.

Siddharth and Karun and Berty and everyone else who gave a thumbs up for joining this beautiful place, thank you!

Photo courtesyhttp://ideatezone.blogspot.in/2007/09/life-at-madras-christian-college.html
http://my.opera.com/adimathra/albums/ & 
(Hopefully, I'll click some of my own soon.)

Monday, June 11, 2012

Of high school crushes and all

courtesy: fuzzydave.deviantart.com

The following situation is just an example of what might arise when you are completely sleep deprived, wide awake past 12 in the night, texting and/or calling peoples who can make you see sanity but they decide to pretend to be busy and not reply and you lose your sense and do something extremely stupid. Well, in my case, it was a result of the above mentioned and the fact that a high school crush lasted like 5 years. The conversation should be understood to have happened between 3 (or more people). For general understanding, I’ll name them as follows: Usual-Self (or US) - the self who you will normally encounter when you talk with or meet me. Subconscious-Self (or SS) - the self within that talks sense into me in all sorts of situations, that valiantly argues against the US and is never afraid to lay forward blunt truths as arguments and also, sadly, loses to the US most of the time, its voice going unheard. DY (or DY only - cannot say name, go) is the forlorn high school crush that my heart so willingly harboured for the past 5 years – it deserves appreciation considering the fact that it never let go of this DY in spite of the fact that it found other souls it thought were worthy enough to invest love and emotions in. ‘How silly?’ are you thinking? Tell me about it. Keeping all this in mind and hopefully some pity for the wrecked soul that narrates this story, you may proceed to read further.

So I lie wide awake at about 12:30 in the night, exhausted from waiting for replies for the text messages I had sent to a couple of people who usually succeed in putting my drifting mind to ease. I resort to throwing tomatoes, rotten tomatoes and even broken flower pots I found on the terrace to this one fellow who I desperately wanted to talk to (read: Snowman) and he still maintains his silence extraordinaire. Now the mind starts playing silly games on me and the US temporarily convinces the SS that sending a text message to DY was a brilliant idea. Barely leaving any time for the SS to comprehend what was happening, the text message is sent.

Me (US): Hey, hi. Reply, no? (SS: Great conversation starter.)

DY: Who is this?

Me (US): Schoolmate of yours. Never really got to talking with you at school. Gathered courage (SS: Gathered WHAT? YOU’RE NOT TYPING THAT!) and wished you on your birthday.  You didn’t even reply. (SS: Seriously, why would he reply to a message from an unknown number?)

DY: My mobile wasn’t working properly that time… Who is this? (SS: *smirks* He’s just being nice.)

Me (US): XYZ. From XII Section X. (SS: What are you? Like 14?)

DY:  Oh… Hey wassup?

Me (US): Umm. Sky. Enamo no stars today. Sorry, eh. Hate that question. (SS:WHO ARE YOU KIDDING? How much does it take to talk normal to this guy? You’re talking for the first time!)

DY: Where are you now?

Me (US): Motta maadi (terrace). Home. Chennai.

DY: Nice... But I meant in general which college and stuff... (SS: God! What must the guy think of you now!)

Me (US): Oh. Sorry. Just finished my Blahblahblah at Blah College. Currently applying for Blahblahblahblahblahblah. (SS: And he’s recruiting you for a job.)

DY: Oh... finished graduation! Congrats

Me (US): Thanks. :) How’s life at the premier institute? Interning somewhere now?

DY: Yup... Interning at BLAH...

Me (US): Cool. No idea how I got the courage to text you again. (SS: There you go again!)

DY: Why does someone require courage to text me?

Me (US): Someone, I don’t know. I do. Not sure why though. :S Took me like what… 3 years to decide to ask someone for your number and actually text. (SS: Honest and all okay, but you’re freaking the guy out!)

DY: Oh where did you get my number from?

Me (US): Make a guess. Not very difficult.


Me (US): Haha. No. Snowman. And you know ABC? (SS: Why DID he guess that?)

DY: Yeah there's a guy in my hostel who is also in the team he told that ABC asked my number... That’s why...

Me (US): Mayor. Mental Mayor, is it?

DY: Yup... (SS: Now remember to throw a flowerpot at that guy the next time you see him at the insti!)

DY: So which college you applying? When? (SS: Thank God you didn’t have to dig for some explanation there.)

Me (US): Got selected at BLAHEST today. Waiting for my interview call from OkayPlace. AnotherOkayPlace also.

DY: Did you see this movie QASDFR?

Me (US): Not yet. Did you? Is it any good? (SS: Thank your stars now that the guy is actually trying to pull a convo out of this phail situation.)

DY: Am sitting in the theatre and bored like crazy... :( (SS: SUCH.A.BULB. Now you know why the guy is texting you.)

Me (US): Haha! And you’re texting me? Are you serious? :D (SS: Now go ahead and make the obvious explicit.)

DY: There is nothing good in the movie... Anyways why did you give me a chocolate on the last day and all that?

Me (US & SS): *heart skips several beats* (to self) He still remembers that?! *tears of joy*

Me (US): Lol. You’re finally asking this after 3 years. :P It was a dare. Was supposed to be. You calmly said ‘Thank you’ & left. Barely dare material. :P

DY: Lol... All I cared for then was the chocolate... :D

Me (US): Even when it came from a girl you’d never even said hi to? :P

DY: You said friends and offered the chocolate so I took it and said okay... I seriously thought you would try to speak some time later… (SS: You can go shoot yourself in the head & then hang yourself up. YOU did not remember that bit? The ‘friends?’ bit? And he all along expected you to speak up? DIE!)

Me (US): Damn. Back then, you were this intriguing guy dribbling a tennis ball & singing to himself in the corridor all the time. And a very brainy one at that. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if you knew me in the first place & I really didn’t think you’d remember. (SS: I can’t agree more.)

DY: Those were real nice times... I knew you of course... There were very few girls in school anyways... :P (SS: And you thought while reading the first half of the message that he was being nice.)

Me (US): Not entirely true. :P (SS: Yeah, right. Try and save your own grace.) I used to think you were mad in a nice way. :D

(after what seems like an eternity of silence) Err. Did I say something wrong?

DY: Lol... Was driving back home that’s why no reply... Not your fault if you thought I was mad

Me (US): Mad in a nice way only. (SS: *facepalm*) You’re at City1 or City2 now?

DY: Ciy1 in my friend’s house now...

Me (US): Ah. How’s the intern going?

DY: Intern not very awesome but is okay

Me (US): Nice. It just struck me. (SS: YEAH, RIGHT! :D) You did see me at the canteen the other day la? If you knew me, why not come over and say hi? (SS: God knows how long you’ve been dying to ask him this! :D)

DY: You were with someone right?

Me (US): Umm. Shd’ve been ABC or Snowman. I’m with either of them. Lol. That’s why?

DY: If it was Snowman I would have come... I don't know ABC at all... That's why...

Me (US): Ooh. Okay, okay. How come you’re up this late? Office iliya tomorrow?

DY: Tomorrow Saturday... We no work on weekends... :P

Me (US): That should make your intern awesome enough. :P

DY: But generally work is from 9 to 6:30 and its so far away... :( (SS: DO NOT IMAGINE A PUPPY DOG FACE and go ‘Aww’ at that smiley he just sent!)

Me (US): Aiyo. That is one taxing field, no? You’ve got <insert keyword> work ah?

DY: For one week I had... But they can't provide accommodation hence no more site work... :)

Me (US): Haha. Lucky you. So. What other interests apart from football and sport-crush-is-supposedly-good-at? (SS: Definitely 14. And now he knows you stalk him.)

DY: Nothing much... Used to play hockey too but now became too injury prone so even not playing much of football...

Me (US): Hmm. Heard from OneGuy that you guys used to have some sort of HP fan group or something at school… :) (SS: God, please let Snowman be wrong for once and PLEASE let this guy be a HP fan!)

DY: Not me... Me was never a big fan of Harry and also they did that in 11th and I was in Batch-something-else at that time... I still remember you singing ‘Vellai Pookkal’... That was the first time I ever heard that song... Would you believe? (after prolonged silence from my side) Slept?


Yes. I did fall asleep and I’m sure you’d know how stupid I felt about myself when I woke up and found that this was the message I’d got when I had dozed off. Let’s say, both the US and the SS unanimously declared that I was stupid but also agreed that this guy sure did remember quite a bit about me and maybe I deserved a pat on the back. I should also mention that the SS promptly reminded me that DY had also mentioned about there being very few girls at school. US vehemently disapproved of this idea being the reason behind why DY did remember quite a bit about me. You do too, right? Now, if you also share an equally embarrassing episode in your life, you are welcome to share it and make the author feel good about herself or at least make her feel like she has company here. If you’re laughing reading this like my noble friend Snowman did after he heard but half the story on phone, you are welcome to shoo away because I am going to go dig a hole in the ground and bury my head in it. I hereby hold Snowman solely responsible for this disastrous night of my life and whatsoever the consequences it holds in the future. Now, GO.

P.s: Dearest, Snowman. After you’re done reading this and laughing your ass of all over again or even distributing printed pamphlets of this story to all the people you know and forcing me to think if I should probably dig a life-sized pit in the ground to bury myself alive, go be of some use in life, call up that guy and find out how much of a phail he thought this was.

(Somehow this little bit of innocence stuck through the growing-up years. Just this case where for once I saw myself fret and worry over talking to someone. There would’ve definitely been some point where I would’ve written about this. I just thought, ‘Why not now?’ DY was/is a nice guy. I hope we turn out to be good friends.)

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

I wish I knew what this is about.

I really do. Honest.
So this is how it feels when you are all fucked.
And I have a semester exam to prepare for.

Choices don't seem to be so easy. And decisions suck even more.
What really do you have going when you seem stuck at one point and the world seems to be rushing past you in a haze, in a hurry?

As much as ego as I may have, it does take more than just mere human humongous effort to just sit back, let it be and see what happens. What if I lose it all? But that is the point. What if I am the only one scared to have lost it all?

Do people ever get scared of losing me like… like I do?
What if I just died and the previous time was the last they ever saw or heard of me?
Will that conversation be enough… to qualify as a fitting farewell?
Or more seriously, I need to know if I deserve one.

Most of the times, I am so sure that certain concepts of ‘general’ life cannot figure in my books.

And no one has proven things otherwise, tried to, etc. I wave the subject off, laugh it off, shake it off, sleep it off and stuff. Until in those few instances I fall, fully aware that I must have to collect myself from tatters and rise from it on my own. When no one will understand, no one will really have the time or emotion to invest in you to know exactly how you feel, what you did go through. And most painfully and atrociously, no one will notice.

It is nothing less than a curse to be living in a city with the world's 2nd largest beach and having security issues to go there alone the time you want to. Even if time is excused, aloneis suicide – moral and otherwise, I hear.

Water and solitude can do that to me.
Make me pensive. Make me ponder. Wonder. Cry. Breathe. And forget, perhaps.

When was the last time you kept a promise?
Last time you broke one?
Met someone and genuinely gave them your time and heart and soul?

Or done any of these:
Shut your ego and came down to find out if someone is okay.
Let love take over anger and your side of the story.
Sat down to value what you have.
Speak out what you really feel.
Write. Cheer. Laugh with. Be with.

Sounds too sappy. But kills to be at the receiving end.

I'm only wishing I could make more sense of what is going through my mind now and that the tears would just shut themselves somewhere and stop portraying me as weak or way too frivolous. And I’m sorry for sounding so depressing. Kinda had to put it all out, you know. Got a semester exam to prepare for.


- Just Someone.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Sincerely, a proud arts student.

'English only, no?'

I don't have count of how many times people have told me this when I sigh a tad too loudly that there's a lot to study or way too much work to do.

To begin with, there's a lot more to the degree than the composition and comprehension luxury than 12th std last offered. There's literature from different countries, centuries, eras, feminism, criticism, linguistics, media studies, communicative studies, journalism, popular culture studies; essays, short stories, novels, movies, songs, poems and concepts to analyze, unlimited presentations, short films, ads and projects to create and most of all, endure it all under the societal hood that has a pre-conceived notion that we either have a carnival running behind us or that we sit and bake cakes and sing rhymes all day.

For all you oh-so-cool-so-difficult-and-complex-to-study engineering students: No, we're not complaining. But there's a lot more to arts, you know?

My very good friend Deva adds, "If you want to talk about English, read Neruda, read Hemingway, read Doestovsky, read D.H Lawrence and read Blake. Then talk about it being not interesting or it being easy. I shall then consider listening to your argument."

Mind you, he's a CS student from IIT-M with an average GPA of 9.something.

P.s: You might've been right about the carnival bit. We are capable of creating one instead of endlessly groaning about the work load we tend to get.

-        Just Someone.

Friday, January 20, 2012


Are they good or are they bad?
The answers are always inconclusive.

First things first. This is the page that will never see the light of the day. A page just for me to write, for me to keep to myself. Emotions and incidents that no other soul should ever know or hear. Or will ever be able to relate to. Maybe. Maybe not. Doesn't matter.

I can remember or relive all those relationships like it was just yesterday. The first seems to be the silliest now. I don't seem to understand it at all. Immature. And whatever kept it alive for even that long in the first place. But it had its magical moments of innocence. The fire-flies. Swimming coaching classes and the long walks back. The birthdays. Cake. Tuck shop. Stik pencils. Cards. Key-chains. The pink liquid key-chain. :) Time only seemed to take the innocence away. And with that, it had to fade away and die.

 Sippy. A few months - of lies, of false promises, of cheerful talks, of fake talk that I never figured out, of smiles and support and not a single day that I remember crying because of him. The 2 minute morning calls. Jogging. Good morning. The b/w picture he first gave me. The endless pictures that followed. The long chats. Emoticons. Weird English. Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na. The day he met that accident, how he came on Yahoo to show his wounds and reassure me that he is recovering. Where did it go wrong, then?

It hurt the most. A year of denial and several months more of getting over it and I still know that deep inside somewhere, I love him for everything he gave me in life. For how single-handedly he taught me to be strong. For helping me overcome what was once my biggest weakness. Of how very close it was to the happiest ending and how everything just crashed without a warning.

Vikram. A guy I never really will understand. A guy I don't want to understand. Did he do me good? Or was he just playing around? He did seem genuine; spending all that time and quite some money on me though I genuinely hated the latter part. The 5 rupees that I would save just to make a call and hear him say 'Hello.' :) The time I'd spend loafing around the hall to pick up the call on the first few rings, the songs, the smiles, the stories, the adventures. And how it had to end so gruesomely.

At times I think Sippy went off because I started speaking with Vikram. Maybe he needed a girl who would give a damn to any other guy and worship only him - which I did do. Sippy this. Sippy that. His phone. His voice. His bike which turned out to be a lie, his house which was another lie. Surface Chemistry. :) My eyes still cloud when I see kids talking about that chapter and I ask all of them to learn the 'Zeolites' question. If I made any attempts to study that subject.. Sippy. Why did you have to go away? And make me cry? And lose hope in everything? And teach me lessons in the impossible-est way? The long evenings I would spend crying and conclude strongly that you were in a spot and you'd come back. You would come back.

Prashanth. Asshole. Why on earth did I have to meet you or get involved with you? Why did you have to respond to that story and push me to talk with you and .. everything? Why did you have to care if Sippy ever got to kiss me or not? Why not just leave me in peace? Telling your friends shit about me, making up stories of us dating.  Dude. Seriously. Was I a game all along or did we really have a moment in there that you chose to overlook? All those endless nights when I slept alone and kept hearing echoes of your voice saying 'Baby, listen!' with the pause and stress on the ‘listen.’ It still gives me the shivers when someone says or types that.

Were all those ‘love you’s fake? Every single one of them? Or were you simply scared of falling in love? That four line gothic girl poem. The rest of your blog posts that sent me in a state of shock and the realization later that it had nothing to with me. That long, long mail, the last mail I ever sent you. I froze when I read that mail after typing it. I am sure you did too. And you refused to send it back to me. I’d deleted it. I needed a copy. I had mentioned about always loving you whether you chose to return the same or not, didn't I? I kept it. I still do.

We can never really be 'just friends' with the people we used to be in a relationship with. Or, hate them completely. We continue to love them; just that other things gain attention and keep the pain in a subsided level.

When I think about all of this or any one section of those days, it feels as though a part of me arises from within, a soul or some shit like that, a different layer that transcends and still finds the capacity to have those same emotions to those very same persons.
I hope all of you are doing good. It is a girl's dream to have the guy back, even if it is for just a moment to say that he misses her and is sorry to have lost her. But in a way, it is only but fitting that you have beautiful lives. For all that you gave me.

Memories and lessons.

-         and my unspoken word will fade away, safe buried among the secrets of yesterday -

-        Just Someone

[Photo Courtesy: LittleBlackUmbrella, Deviantart]