The poet writes...

I thought that I would write a book. Someday, soon enough. I want to write a book, get it published, do the book tours, the back cover glamor shots...all the works.
But the twist is that it will for sure NOT be chic lit! NEVER NEVER NEVER. As much as I hate those books, as much as those pieces of cheap lit have entertained me- I will NEVER write chic lit.
I might write a book on JNU and call it 'Plane Spotting' or write a Fantasy Trilogy- the name of which I have not decided yet.

But I will.

Promise.

Post Heart Break Ramblings in other words BLAH!!!

For the last few days I have tried to write. In reality with pen and paper and also in my head like I mostly do. I tried when I saw the different shades of blue in the never ending sea, when I saw a glowing sun set, when I walked the sea bed, when I took off in to the air, when I got thrown in to the water and even when I saw a jelly fish- I tried to write.

Isn’t that what we should do? The old school intellectuals? Seeking acceptance from a world who we don’t believe understands us? Seeking approval and some sympathy from people who do not think like us nor can feel like us form the written forms that we pour ourselves into. Read me- in all my naked honesty- read me.

And learn me, understand me, accept me and if you can follow my blog daily.
Who am I to tell them that I do not believe them? Who am I to tell them that at times I do not even believe myself? The mind is capable of such diverse thoughts and such absurd conclusions that even if I pour myself out in words and customized pages- I can never believe to be completely honest?
When I fail to write- something like this piece comes into reluctant existence. You see, the great cynic of the post modern age, all I have learnt from the hallowed portals of my academic castles- is that I can and should write. How could I possibly do anything else?

Can I live?
Maybe not. Breathe, survive, love, lie...?
I do not know about that- but I can write.

So...you know by now what to do. But let me warn you- what you read of me is not one bit honest. It is what I want you to read of me! And hell- you already knew that.
When my heart is broken- I may turn my tears to words,

When I have so much love in me to completely own you- I may turn my want to words,
When I have no answers to give- I can turn my lack of knowledge to words,
With these words there is nothing I cannot do.



I have learnt that I am not good enough. For something I have loved with all my heart. When we had nothing we were given so much that now, after two years we have so much to lose that our heart s are breaking. It is true my dear friend that while showing you pictures of a far off land when faces familiar come up there are tears in my eyes.
I will never walk those same paths again, I won’t play with those puppies again nor spend the nights up with you...you all who I hold so close to me. Why us? Why?
You all, in your locked rooms- tell us where we went wrong. Tell us why we had such an undignified departure from these tree shaded avenues, from all the colours, and all the happiness that our immature hearts could hold?
Why?
Look into my eyes and tell me that I am not good enough for you all. Tell me that the last two years, all the hard work, all the faith and respect have just been lies. Tell me that I deserve to go.



After being away from home for two years and learning to be someone I was not, I came back home with nothing left to lose. I was no longer that girl who in a hurry stuffed her chaotic life into a few boxes and changed cities. This new me was nice, I liked her very much. But when I reached home I had the feeling deep inside somewhere that my life no longer would be the same again. I did things I could manage, could make time for, and could do with all the sincerity I could muster. Survived on the sliver of hope that two years had been spent well. What a conceited fool I am!!!
But when it hit me, I wanted to run away and hide. After a long long time I wanted to run away and hide. That is what courage does to you. It makes you complacent, it makes you feel in ways you have never felt before and that is dangerous. I thought that after the long and hard fought battles I deserved my bit. But my battles were just beginning.
After being away for so long I never liked being home. But this time I wanted to stay home. For the comfort it gave me. For the hugs, the quiet words and the smiles. I want my mommy. I want you. And I want it all to come together to comfort me.
Why am I being so silly that I must break so?
Have such battles never been fought before? Why am I so eager to run away? Am I a coward?
When I had lost everything I had fought so hard to gain it all back. I was stupid in the first place to have lost it all...but when you are that young...it is in your blood to do the stupidest things. I just could not believe that I had to fight again.
Why me?
The new journey has begun and I am learning to accept that those paths will never be traversed again, not by me...but by the likes of me and I wish them all well. But god knows how much I want to be there, doing the same things, feeling the same way.
And as far as running away is concerned I shall sit here and shut the world out. Silently, slowly and by myself.
And you and I will meet when those doors have opened again.

Well...then...

I have this strange habit...well,not exactly a 'habit' but more like a disease if I could call it so.
I get used to/irritated with people REALLY fast! It's easier to talk of it than to feel it because when I do feel it hitting me I realize how impatient I intrinsically am.
What actually happens is - I end up spending a lot of time with someone because I am rather fond of them, but VERY soon their whims and quirks start getting to me. It happens with everyone I am fond of. EVERYONE. It is not that I love them any less then but I would do anything right then to go away from them, do something else, be somewhere else. It happens with friends, family, acquaintances...hell!!!
I can't explain why it happens but it completely irks me when I look back at it. And the strange thing is I can't do much to change it.
So more often than not I end up spending stipulated time with people I love so as I never get irritated with them. It is not their fault, it's mine. So if I ever cancel plans with you - I am doing it for I adore you completely.
Believe me.

My rains...in my Calcutta

After ages I saw the rains here. Like I used to as a child, standing in the balcony while the rain spray touched my face. The dull grey all around, in the sky, on the streets. I missed the rains in Delhi, then again in Calcutta till this time. I saw the rains in Pattaya but they weren’t as nice. The sea looks awesome in the rains. I wish I could have been there with you. Standing high in the hotel window staring at the islands that were vanishing in the horizon. And I would tell you that tomorrow we should go to one of those islands and try spotting the hotel window from there. How completely kiddish. But that is how I am – I think too fucking simply at times.
But this rain in Calcutta- these are my rains. I grew up with this, getting wet and getting shouted at for that. It’s so monotonous that it seems so comforting to me right now. The lack of something, of action, of something drastic, stark and heart breaking. I want this blanket around me. You do not know how torn I feel inside. Look at me. You’ll know. All I want now is to be safe, to be home and to be held like I am wanted and worth something.But you I miss. Strangely. A lot of empty spaces between us…and I do not know what to do with that.

...

The dull witted gray clouds like tears behind my lashes.
Waiting, expectant, holding onto the last smile.
The last kiss and the last written word.
Scared.
But you and me beloved.
You and me will be ok.

As the days pass I am trying to be ok. I know that this means nothing more than just something I did not get. Big deal. But then why is my world falling apart???
For the first time in my entire life I forgot my admit card for an exam...forgot to turn the page and check for the next question...left out 40 marks in a paper...
The more I think I will be ok the harder it becomes.
You, when I talk to you, you know I wanted this, I do not need to explain my heart break to you. Just hold me.

You stop mid way- telling me things you really want to but refrain. And I tell you that I rather deal with this with you than deal with it alone.

Why?

It feels like a bad break up...a bad nasty break up.

Fuck.

You and me. We will be ok. Some how.

Reality Shot

I got my heart broken today. In the most undignified way if I may add. As I sat in the car on the way back from a lot of fun, I was shaking inside. When no one was watching some tears would roll down my eyes. When I was left with just one more person in the car I wanted to cry. Not silently- but aloud. Bawling, screaming, letting out all the insane pain that I was feeling inside.
I didn't. No one had ever seen me that way and I could not afford that now.
I have never felt so useless or broken in my life.

Yes, love, you can fall in love with something that may not have loved you back.

Yes, love, you can fall in love with something dead.

4:30 am

I miss you...I keep looking at your photographs.

Keep repeating your words in my head.

You.

I miss.

Some goodbyes...

Some goodbyes are the most silent of all. No one cries, no hugs, no tears- no promises to keep in touch and no revelations of how the other person will be missed. Goodbyes of this sort make me feel the most empty. Because at times like these I have no idea how to express my self. I can't cry, or hug or promise to stay in touch or let them know that they will be missed. It is completely unnerving.
My room mate is leaving today for China. Forever.
She tells me that she is leaving tonight and places some gifts in my hand. She is almost apologetic for giving me those gifts. That is how she is. One of the most silent presences in my life.
she hardly ever raised her voice, or whined or complained or said anything harsh or rude. I think I said enough for the both of us. She never ever complained about anything. In all practicality she knew in her mind that she was here just for a year. Thus when my stuff over flowed all over the room- she didn't mind. My friends came and stayed over all the time- she never said a word. She hardly ever said much.
The most we talked was during a power cut once when i explained to her how elections in JNU worked. She audited one of our courses and attended more classes than I did. She bought all the course books and politely let me know that I could borrow them when ever I wanted. I didn't even buy ONE of the course books.
I don't know whether she hated me or liked me- but for hours when we sat alone doing our own work in the room, literally oblivious of each other - she would pass me chips or an apple and at times I passed her my things.
She taught me this incredible thing- if I was asleep at the odd times (which is like all the time!) she would switch the main light off and work with her table lamp on. My earlier room mates had never done that. That was a very small gesture- but it meant the world to me. I knew that I mattered to her.
Since then i never put the main light on when she slept- no matter how many times I bumped into things late into the night.
I got her stuff back from home and she sent stuff back with me for home. On nights when I had nightmares or was crying my heart out in silence- I would turn to see her sleeping figure next to me.
At least someone was there- I was not all alone.
Now, as I write, she is packing her things. One by one, everything I identify with her goes into the suitcase- the electric kettle, the multipoint charger, the chinese army mosquito repellent, the contact lenses case...
I don't know what to tell her.
She told me that she was leaving tonight. Her mentioning that made me realize how incredibly short a time I had to let her know what she had been to me. For a whole year I had not mentioned a word to her about anything emotional and yet here I was writing about how I felt.
I am writing what I want to say Wang. If ever you come across this piece- you will know.
She told me that she won't be back for the next semester. I just said - "Oh...". she smiled and carried on with her packing.
Our lives are changing now- people are leaving and some are hoping that no one leaves. But some journeys always end for others to begin.
And I for once don't want a room without her.

The Shit Pot Monster

S - im shit scared of flushing at nite
Me - why not flush?
S - im scared
Me - are you scared tht the things you flush may come and get you?
S - no
just the sound
Me - hahahahahah
u are a riot
S - hahahhahahahahha
thank you
and sometimes i feel that somethings gonna come out of the shit pot ka hole and grab my bum
Me - i so want to post your last comment on fb
S - karde
but dnt give MY name
Me - hahahahahha
fuck
S - wot happened?
Me - no just tht
i am still laughing
S - hahahhahahahhahahha
im SERIOUS
bachpan se he
i have felt like that
Me - then maybe u shud shit in plastic packets and chuck them
no flush
S - DNT gimme IDEAS
i mite just
you know
Me - no bum grabbing
S - start shitting on newspaper
heheheheheh
tujhe nahi laga aisa kabhi?
Me - nahin meri ma
S - hahahhahaha
how UNIMAGINATIVE
Me - rite
nothing really interferes between me and my personal hygiene
S - ???
Me - u do realize tht i will never me able to look at u and not laugh
ever again
S - hahahahahhahaa
doesnt matter
as long as you dnt LEAK the information
Me - wen u come to my house i will give you a plastic packet if you need to use the loo
promise
S - hahahahhahahahahahhaha
Me - can i put this in my blog?
S - my potty-scapades
Me - hahahahaha
yes yes
perfect
S - hahahhahahahahhahahahaha
NOOOOOOOOOOOO no
you cant do this
my reputation will be ruined
no one will marry me
OR
take me to the toilet
hahahhahahaha
Me - or you never know they just mite have the same fears
S - MAYBE
Me - we all look forward to hot men taking us to the toilet to shit...
come with me or the shit pot monster will come and hit you on the face with your plastic packets of shit



One of the most hilarious conversations I have ever had in my life...every time I read it I invariably crack up...

I am looking for myself out there.