So this is how it is.

I don't know.
Do I?

I don't.

Do you?
I don't think you do...

Why?
Do you know?

You look away again.
You're not touching me.

What?
Did I do something wrong?

Do you still...?
I do.
Do you?

It's cold.
I miss you.
Do you?

I don't know.
Do I?

I'm unsure.
A hug?
Warmth?

What's that?
You don't want...?

Oh.

I didn't know.

I still don't know.

Let's take a moment to clarify....

I'm not who you want me to be.

I am short and overweight.
I have short stubby fingers and unattractive nails.
I don't have gorgeous hair or glowing skin (anymore).
I have scars on my skin that will never fade.
I don't have a sexy voice or a figure to die for.
My teeth are crooked and not sparkly white.
I have a few talents...like everybody else on the planet...but I'm not amazingly good at any of it.
I'm not incredibly funny, and I don't have a charming, winning personality. In fact, a lot of people don't think too highly of me the first time they meet me.


I can't be who you want me to be.

I don't trust people easily.
When I make friends, they're friends for life. I trust them with everything I have, and trust them not to tear me apart.
I don't date.
When I love/like someone, I give them everything I have.
I give them the power to break my heart.
And they do.


This is who I am.

I'm not perfect. I will never be.

I have my faults, lots of them.

I looked in the mirror just now and I wanted to cry.
I didn't like what I saw there anymore.
Frustrated, bitter and angry, I slid to my bedroom floor and shed a single tear.

This is what you do to me.

After all this time, all these years, this is what you do to me.

You're every guy that makes any girl feel worthless.
You're every guy that makes any girl feel like she must change just so you can love her a little more.
You're every guy that makes any girl want to put herself through hours of torture, hoping to see a smile on your face.

I'm not that girl.

I may not be tall, or sexy, or have a great figure. I may not have great skin, perfectly manicured nails, and beautiful hair. I may not be a super star, or the most popular person you know.

But I'm beautiful. I'm a good person. I've been knocked down so many times, but I've gotten up again. Over and over again. I'm a survivor. I love myself for what I am, faults included. Don't you ever forget that. Don't you ever try to make me feel otherwise.

You have no right.

I don't belong to you.

Pay Attention to Road Signs!

You've seen it happen a lot of times, you've laughed about it...or even felt strangely sympathetic about it...but when you suddenly find yourself in the same situation, you're left feeling rather amused.

There are all these roads...some roads lead to some major event...others lead to people...others lead to dead ends...we walk down these roads all the time on this very sub-conscious level...and sometimes, we wind up on some random street, forgetting to read the signs.

I'm on such a street now. See, I probably thought it was a two-way street, as most streets on this side of town are...turns out it's a one way, and rather dimly lit. There's sweet music playing somewhere, and a faint scent of laughter lingers in the air, but I don't know what I'm doing on this street, or how I got here. I don't know what lies at the end of this street; all I know is that I can't turn back. And I'm amused...running my fingers through my hair and glancing in either direction, feet firmly rooted in one place, not wanting to move ahead, not willing to break the rules and turn back either.

What lies at the end of this street?

Will it lead to the road from where the music comes?

Will it lead to a dead end?

Should I just wait here and hope for company?

Should I just walk on ahead anyway and take my chances?

So many questions...when you're standing on a dimly lit street with high walls on either side of you and no way of turning back, there are no answers, no options. You're either stuck, or you're not.

Better move and than be stuck...


Right?

Dormant Volcano, Dead Cockroach

This blog post is dedicated to men who don't know how to respect women, men who take their women for granted, and women who have some sort of dependency disorder and continue to stand by aforementioned men.

In lieu of recent events, I have come to the conclusion that in a lot of cases, this "love" thing leads to stupidity, irrational decision-making, and blurring of thought processes. Love brings pain, sometimes even physical, and a lot of confusion. Love convinces you that you don't need to get out of a relationship that brings you pain, because you're "in love" with the person.

I have news for stupid people. Being in love shouldn't ever be that hard. Yeah, you have your ups and downs, but when it starts forming a pattern, it's time to slap yourself in the face and look at the whole thing again.

Wake up, woman! If he really loves you as much as he says he does, he's not going to be hurting you so selfishly. And you guys...I don't know what it is about you guys that make you think you're superior in any way to women. You have NO right, whatsoever, to raise your hand in any situation. If you think you do, you need to get your head examined. Preferably by me.

All you men out there, you disturbed characters responsible for deaths, bruises, suicides, cutting, tears, pain, and fear, your day will come soon...what you do unto others invariably comes back to you.

If not, contact me, I can arrange for a pit to be dug. Take your pick from a wide range of slow tortures. My favourite is the one where you're burnt alive, little by little.

*curses under breath and glares at mental image of person this was inspired by*

Addiction...

I'm back...after a long, long hiatus...surprisingly enough, my inspiration for this blog post comes from a rather unusual source.

Of late, you'll find me glued to my laptop, quietly chuckling to myself, or smiling...it's like some cheesy song straight out of a Bollywood movie, minus the perfectly synchronized dancers in gaudily coloured costumes in the back. And no, I'm not in love.

It's just that every moment I'm away from my laptop, I'm either smiling, or waiting to get back... Every moment I'm away from home, I can't wait to get back, and once I get back, before I even take off my shoes, I make a beeline for the laptop.

It's just that my dreams are now being invaded, and my every waking moment is spent either smiling, or waiting online, or smiling...you get the drift.

It's just that now I stay up really late into the night, and when I say goodbye and get into bed, I grin at the shadows and whisper a name, liking the way it sounds against my lips.

It's just that now even though I wake up early, I can't be tired...I just do everything I have to and wait patiently for a window to appear on my laptop screen.

It's just that I'm incredibly scared to admit that I may be devastatingly attracted to a smooth-talking, intelligent man with a sexy voice...a man I've known for barely a week.

There should be a cure for this sort of thing...

Act V, Scene III

It's like a slap in your face.

A new picture, innocent in its place, smirks at you from your laptop screen, and it should be okay, you should be okay with it, but something inside begins to hurt, with that familiar ache. New links clicked, pages change. The pain remains and you pretend not to notice. Ignorance is bliss, they say. What's that? No guarantees? Hold on while I go ask for a refund.

In a few days your life will change faster than you can snap your fingers. Leaving behind friends and feelings, you have to move on...there's nothing left for you here anymore. Don't even consider opening that other offer letter. Staying here brings pain. Leave. There's nothing for you here anymore.

It's like a slap in your face.

Running away is so much easier. Pretend you can't see the obvious, turn away and breathe normally. When pain rams into you with the force of a freight truck and knocks you off your feet, laugh at how silly you are, get up, smile, and move on. There's nothing for you here anymore. There's no point in staying to fight. Leave.

How do you say goodbye? Two and a half years is long time. When you get used to having him around, when you get used to knowing that he'll always be there no matter what, when you get used to knowing that he's always just a phone call away? What happens then? That last hug, that hesitation to let go, that last intertwining of your fingers. So many lasts. What happens now, now that there's that sense of finality? The knowledge that this is the last time? What happens when something rooted so deep is going to be pulled out, taking a part of you with it?

It's like a slap in your face.

It stings. It hurts. It leaves you dazed. It leaves a mark. It's real. It's a slap in your face.

SoP blues...

I've been sitting at my laptop for a couple of days now, trying to frame an essay that will convince the Admissions Offices of universities to accept me as a student. It's tough.

Why do I love psychology? I just do! Why do I want to study Child Psychology? Because I like kids and the way their minds work. What are my future plans with regard to the course? I really don't know, I'm hoping to get a job somewhere!

And then of course, why am I suited for this course? Because I'm told that I'm good at understanding people. And that I'm better at understanding children. Also because, apparently (credit to RoMan for this) I have "too much empathy" for my own good.

What am I supposed to say?? Whatever I type onto that blank page sounds so corny, I wouldn't give me admission!

Very depressing...but then again, it's inspired me to blog after a long time.

Well, in other news, I passed my Driver's License exam today, making me a "driver", according to my Dad.

Also went to BU today, which is conveniently situated in the middle of nowhere (like our apartment here in the city, and like the airport). The campus is huge, the people are rude and obnoxious, and there were no students anywhere. Go figure. For my fellow graduates (how I love saying that) who are applying for various certificates through BU, be warned - if you thought the office people in our (ex) college were rude and impossible, you'll be stunned by the (ahem) warmth and love you get at BU.

In yet other news, I had my first professional-ish movie audition the other day. It didn't work out, but was quite an experience! (Okay, be honest...how many of you have that horrified expression on your face? The one that says "What?? Wait...let me read that again - she said something positive? Impossible!! Gasp!!!"? Go on..be honest. I won't judge.) Well, but yeah, things seem to be finally looking up on this side of hell. (I'm currently listening to sappy love-is-lost songs, but let's just ignore that, yeah?)

Well, I must go back to staring at that blank document. It fascinates me. Empty space. I like empty spaces.

No wait...correction. I like dark empty spaces.

Fear

It's a perfectly natural response to...anything. But when it comes to fearing the future, things get especially complicated. Do you take a risk and then take things as they come? Or do you just leave things be and play it safe?

Case I - Take a risk, because the only things you regret in life are the risks you never took.

So you plunge in. You say, yeah, I know I'm probably going to get hurt...but this is what I want, and I'm going to try anyway. Two outcomes -

Perfect scenario - Things work out. You get what you want, things work out eventually despite a rough road, and everybody's happy.

Worst case - Things don't work out, either in the beginning, or towards the end. You end up disappointed, life feels like hell.

So I'm thinking... So what if things don't work out? At least you've given it a shot...sure, life will be hell for a while afterward, but things will look up again, right? (Someone with the optimism gene please continue this...I don't do optimism.)

Case II - Play it safe, because it's better to be safe than hurt in the future.

So you leave things the way they are. Life feels like crap, but you're glad that you know that what you feared won't happen.

Perfect scenario - Things work out. Something else comes along, and life starts to look better.

Worst case - You wake up 7 years down the line and look at your life, and think, "What if I had given it a shot?" ...and you won't know, because it's just too late.

So I'm thinking... I don't know which is worse...playing it safe and spending everyday hoping for something better to come along, or playing it safe and then waking up in another 7 years wishing for a time machine.

The solution?

Go ahead and take the plunge while being prepared for the worst? Or play it safe and pray to every supernatural being you know?

That is the question(s).

Of warm, fuzzy feelings

Yes, I'm still single.

Met El today after a long time. It's amazing what meeting someone you love after ages can do to you. I already feel happier. We roamed around playing tour guide to Dr. Tourist, shopping for kurtas, speaking in ridiculous south Indian accents, eating chaat, and trying to convince Dr. Tourist that it was scientifically impossible to "fly out of an auto" (yes, the yellow and black three-wheeled contraptions). Sample conversation -

Dr. T - "Oh no...ohno ohno ohno ohno...*yelp*...aaah!!! ohno no no no *hold onto sides of auto*"

El - "Chill ya...nothing will happen unless the auto topples or something"

Me - (mockingly) "AAAH!! Oh no!!! We're all gonna die!!! AAH!!"

So yes, we had a really good time. El kept us entertained with little tidbits of information - history and culture mainly...and then some geography. Apparently a couple of years ago, the place I'm staying in now wasn't even part of this city. :/ Go figure.

The highlight of the day was finding a shop named "Dirty Fashions (for the pretty ones)" on Comm Street. Very amusing. According to El, at one point of time, back when this city "was a sane South Indian place", women didn't really wear trousers or t-shirts, and this shop was the only place things like that were available. Hence the name. I'm still smiling.

Also met Ergoplum today, but of course, the boy was too busy and couldn't spend more than 3 minutes with me. hmph...best friend it seems.

Well, coming back to the point, warm fuzzy feelings are in fashion today. El is like my personal happy place/person. Get yours today.

Choir practice starts tomorrow morning at the Place-Where-I-Studied for our graduation ceremony, which is on the 30th. Yes, I'm (finally) graduating. All of us in the choir who are graduating will be singing (yes, for our own graduation). I can't wait. If there's one thing I'll miss about college life, it's singing with the choir.

Well, that's about it for now. Must sleep. Ta, my loves!

Liar, Liar

Remember those fairy tales you read when you were little? About the prince and the princess who went through all the crap and managed to find each other in the end and live happily ever after?

It's a lie.

The whole bleeding thing...the entire lot of them...all lies. In the real world, the prince and the princess go through all the crap and then hurt each other and walk out of each other's lives. It's what we do best as people.

We run.

It's so much easier. Run in the other direction, lock yourself in a room with the curtains drawn.

Darkness is always comforting.

In fairy tales, darkness is evil and cold. In the real world, darkness is solace and comfort. It's your safety net. No one lies to you in the dark. No one sees tears or pain. It's all good.

They're all liars.

They make you believe that true love is worth everything in the end. They lied. All of them. In the end the only thing you have is a goodbye note in one hand and your hospital bills in the other.

And yet, we're fools.

We convince ourselves that it will never happen again, that it's impossible for it to happen again. But Cupid is a sly, cunning and ruthless predator. Just the slightest slip, a pause for rest even, and he'll strike.

Stupid little winged arrow-shooting sadist.