Three Questions...

For A(you know who you are ;)), hope you find the answers :)



Games, changes and fears
When will they go from here
When will they stop
I believe that fate has brought us here
And we should be together, babe
But we're not
I play it off, but I'm dreaming of you
I'll keep my cool, but I'm feigning

I try to say goodbye and I choke
Try to walk away and I stumble
Though I try to hide it, it's clear
My world crumbles when you are not near
Goodbye and I choke
I try to walk away and I stumble
Though I try to hide it, it's clear
My world crumbles when you are not near

I may appear to be free
But I'm just a prisoner of your love
And I may seem all right and smile when you leave
But my smiles are just a front
Just a front, hey
I play it off, but I'm dreaming of you
I'll keep my cool, but I'm feigning

I try to say goodbye and I choke
Try to walk away and I stumble
Though I try to hide it, it's clear
My world crumbles when you are not near
Goodbye and I choke
I try to walk away and I stumble
Though I try to hide it, it's clear
My world crumbles when you are not near
Here is my confession
May I be your possession
Boy, I need your touch
Your love kisses and such
With all my might I try
But this I can't deny
Deny

I play it off, but I'm dreaming of you
(but I'm dreaming of you babe)
I'll keep my cool, but I'm feigning

I try to say goodbye and I choke (yeah)
Try to walk away and I stumble
Though I try to hide, it's clear
My world crumbles when you are not near
(when you are not near aahh)
Goodbye and I choke (yeah, yeah, yeah)
I try to walk away and I stumble (hey, hey, hey)
Though I try to hide it, it's clear (sick of love)
My world crumbles when you are not near (your love, kisses and)

Goodbye and I choke (I'm choking)
I try to walk away and I stumble
Though I try to hide it, it's clear
My world crumbles when you are not near
(My world crumbles when you are not near)
Yeah, yeah..

The Art Of Losing...

2010 was a cruel teacher. It taught me lessons I didn't want to learn, made me face truths I scarcely imagine existed, it made me look deep inside me, it showed me my ugly side but worst of all and funnily, maybe even the best, was when it pushed me into that deep dark well on whose edge I have always stood, trembling knees, shivering body and a breath stuck in my throat, 2010 finally pushed me into that well. I fell down, splintered into pieces, my happy world splattered on the walls of the well, I lay bleeding and just when I was about to breathe my last, it offered me its hand and told me to stand up again. And in all that, it gave me a precious thing: It taught me how to lose. To cope with loss. How to be completely alone, without even those who gave me birth.

*****
I remember it was summer holidays and Priya and I were loitering around in her society when we found out Pinky's mother had died. I was only in my 5th grade. I had never heard of death before. I had never seen a dead body before. I knew something like death existed, I wasn't that naive, but by all means, it was an alien concept to me.

Pinky's mom's story spread like wildfire through the town. She was in love with another man; she knew she could not marry him. Pinky's family was one of the well known families in the town and her mother's love affair had become the talk of the town. There were constant fights at home, and finally it all had led Pinky's mum to commit suicide.

I remember standing a few days later at the same spot, with Priya, where Pinky's mother had apparently lain while waiting for the morning fast train, and wondering, "Will it be my mom next?". And if so, will dad bring another mom home? Will she be like Pinky's step mother? I was afraid even before I fully understood what it meant to be afraid.

I remember sitting by the window at 2am in the night praying to god to please send Dad back home. I couldn't bear the thought of him leaving us, his threats indigestible.What would happen to us? I knew mom couldn't work. What will I tell my school friends if I had to drop out of school? I could never grapple with it.

Looking back, I realise, I have lived my entire life being afraid. Afraid that someone I love, someone I care about, someone whom I am dependent on will leave me and then what will become of me? I have lived in constant fear; fear that first parents would leave, then friends, then the men in my life.

And I never realised it, but this fear was all pervasive, under the covers, invisible, but always present. Subconsciously affecting everything I did. I loved people more than I loved myself. Not because I am noble, but because I was selfish. I loved them, 'cause I was scared they would leave me. So I loved them. So I could keep them with me, close to me. And I never learnt to cope with loss. My losing mechanism permanently damaged, broken.

That acquaintance I don't give a rat's ass about? Let him stop talking to me and see how I go in my panic mode. I can't handle it. I can't see anyone walking out of my life. Why do I care so much about what others think of me? 'Cause I can't afford to have them think bad about me. Cause wouldn't that mean they would just leave me? I ran after people who didn't matter, after fake friendships, after hollow relationships, 'cause though they didn't matter, and somewhere I knew they didn't matter, I could never be okay with losing anyone. I hoarded relationships, people, like an ant would hoard food, saving it for a cold wintry evening.


So much energy lost in preserving friendships that didn't matter. So much love lost. So much time spent in mending broken relationships that weren't ever meant to be. So much lost, in this quest for not losing.


And then one day you realise you anyway have lost it all. You anyway have lost them all. You don't have them after all that running around, after all that begging, pleading, loving. And you sit dumbfounded and you realise how truly alone you are. And that's how everyone is. And that, it's okay.

And that's what you learn, when you learn to fend for yourself, you understand that nothing bad can ever happen.You can still survive.

*****
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
--Elizabeth Bishop

Food Inc...

It's a given. Go with a guy to a tapri for chai or food and he will gross you out with horrid tales about how the food at these tapris is made. I have stopped eating samosas thanks to one such friend. Roadside kebabs thanks to another. I think twice before eating anything now thanks to my chef friend. In a way I have become paranoid. But I liked what my chef friend told me. We have stopped thinking about where our food comes from. We simply, eat. Without thinking. Have you ever wondered where all that seafood comes from in a place like Mumbai? Not from Mumbai, an island city with dirty polluted shores/seas where no sea life can thrive. Where then, do all those fishes and lobsters come from if not Mumbai?

I ate a watermelon today. It's not the season for watermelons, did I wonder where they came from? Those kiwis, those plums, those apples, those mangoes, that turkey, that pork, that chicken, that lettuce, those squishy tomatoes...ever paused and wondered about the food that goes inside your body?

I remember while I was waiting for my aloo paranthas, kulchas and lassi at Branwa da dhaba (brother's dhaba), apparently the most famous dhaba in Amritsar, a South Indian family on vacation was eating dosa and drinking bottled mango juice. Nothing grossly wrong in eating food that you like and are comfortable with. But if you want to eat the best food, remember, "When in Rome, do as Romans do". Eat more seasonal stuff for one. And two, it's common sense that no tapri is going to serve you first class chicken at Rs.35/-. So think about where that chicken came from next time you eat at a roadside stall. And think about what you're putting in your body next time you're having a buffet lunch at a five star hotel.

And, it is not, it's absolutely not, girly to eat healthy, like my guy friends will say it is :|

"I don't want to eat healthy, I just want to eat tasty."

Stupid I say :| You are after all, what you eat.

Beautiful Thing...

I don't remember the last time I stayed up all night, all day in bed to read. After what must have been ages, Sonia Faliero's "Beautiful Thing" managed to do that. Unputdownable.

Beautiful Thing gives you a glimpse of Bombay's Dance Bar world. I had ordered the book like a month back but somehow the online bookstore kept on delaying. And when a friend told me he had actually visited one of the "Orchestra bars", I knew I wanted to read Beautiful Thing. I remember asking one of my close guy friend to take me to the "red light" area of the city to see what happens there. I just was so curious. I wanted to know what happened. You'll think me naive, and stupid. But I read Beautiful Thing and I knew my curiosity wasn't unwarranted. And no, he did not take me and no, I don't want to go there anymore. I am terrified and I am heartbroken.


And though my life is so removed from the reality that is their life, their existence so alien, there is something that managed to still connect our lives. Dreams, aspirations, emotions, an unfulfilled wish perhaps, that managed to bridge the two sides of the same city. And while I still have hope that someday my those dreams will come true, I wonder what will happen to theirs.


Reading Beautiful Thing was like touching the hot coals everyone told you to stay away from.


Enlightening, shocking, heartbreaking. Highly recommend it.

RhythmBox...

Okay so I have a problem. The problem is that even at 26 I don't know how to behave with guys who like me but whom I do not like. It's a problem because more often than not they are friends. Friends I like. But then they start showing more than friendly affection and I just get the creeps and I start with my "weird" behaviour. What is my weird behavior? Well, I ignore them, I don't return their calls, I avoid looking at them, I stop hanging out with them, I stop finding them funny, I frown at them when I catch them staring at me, I especially hate it when they act all "nice" to me ( :| ), and if they still don't get the hints, I act rude. And I honestly hate it. And it's worse when he's a good friend and has a girlfriend who likes me and looks upto me. I feel bad cause only one thing happens, they start hating me eventually and I lose out on good guy friends. I don't know how to rebuff their affections in a way such that I don't hurt them and keep them as friends too. I usually make a mess out of the whole thing! 

I remember I once told a friend that I don't like anyone liking me or loving me without my consent. His reaction was pretty normal and expected: WTF. I know! I know! But my problem is that I do not want anyone buying me gifts, treating me "special", worrying after me unless I like him. And definitely not have him act like his my personal servant, irrespective of whether I like him or not. With other guy friends I want to be treated like one of the guys. I don't have problems accepting compliments, I just have a problem accepting it from guys who are firmly in the friends category! :| Oh I am such a nut! And such a weird contradiction! And such a bitch! Why can't I be like other girls and accept all that extra attention? And preen and bat my eyelids and giggle? if not all that, why can't I just graciously accept it and just be okay about it all? Why do I have to act all weird? Arghhh! I don't know what will become of me! I truly do not!

Funny, This Life...

The life of a girl who looks out from a South Bombay flat, sea-facing on Marine Drive, and who pays 300/- for "White tea" and the life of one who resides in Mira road, in an one window flat, who drinks cheap whiskey cheap desi daaru and who dances for money; I live one and I read one.

But both girls want the same things.

An Honest Word...

So much to think about, so much to talk about, so much to write about...so much!:)

But just one lesson: Don't be scared to expect the best.

*****
It hurts, I feel very very sad, but the truth is that you have left my world. And the one person with whom I could share my sadness has left me too.

*****
And no matter what happens, no matter what fucking happens, a woman never forgets that one guy she truly loved. She still weeps in the dark, sobs in the arms of her best friend and she still thinks about him, everyday. Everyday.

*****
Why do you want to get married he asked. We hated each other. But we were talking now and I would be lying if I said I did not like it much. He is against marriage. Never wants to get married. I looked at him, him trying really hard to sound confident and look all nonchalant. You know the "I am a stud and I can bang 50 chicks at even 40, why do I need marriage" look? He had one. And he looked good with it too.

Companionship I said. I want someone to share my life with. I am lonely.

He made some joke out of it and started digressing. Changed the topic, I let him. But just for one second, just for one second, before the shutters came down, I saw his vulnerable side. He was as lonely and as scared.

Somewhere, yes, it felt good.

*****
Don't ignore the one who has it, to make the one who does not have it feel good. The one who has it, probably needs some loving too.