Archive for July, 2014

Growing up is a paradox. It is a process filled with days in which you wish you were the innocent four year old for your parents and some days of late nights at the club.

Growing up sucks!!
I remember the time I felt the most in need of changing, as if age brought with it a gush of serenity. I was in the third grade and I can’t conjure as to why I was in need of growing up but I imagine it has got something to do with my friend’s sister. She was beautiful, tall and a seventh grader! She had that aura and ohhhh that smile…even now I see her hair flowing in the wind when in reality she had a not-so-wavy hair.

I assumed with age that people grew wiser, more fun and independent. I remember when I got to the seventh grade, I was still short and far from being girly. I was awkward looking with the ugliest looking uniform (besides the deep blue color) and the only thing going on for me was drama class. Acting was my portal to be that girl I couldn’t be. I almost always took the part for the ‘girl gone bad’ or ‘spoiled school girl’ and I know I rocked that year.

I miss the gullibility that recedes as we age; that hunger in possibility of anything. I miss believing that nothing stood between me and my dreams; except a few more years. I miss the confidence that I had when I got up after I fell flat on my face in the middle of preppy hot nine graders. I miss how Sherlock Holmes kept me up till midnight and how Anne of Green Gables stirred herself in my daydreams.

But would I go back in time to be that little girl with awkward gait to hide my looming boobs? Naaaah!!! I hate change but because more often than not I have swayed with the elements of change and found it hard to keep my feet on the ground. But that too has come with a better self-realization than who I was a year back. I admit it is hard and there are days I want to hide away from the world and erase my reality but life is a journey; no matter how cliche that sounds. It is the travel, the acceleration, the speed bump, the in betweens, the hedges and mud that paint a picture of where we where once and where we might be.

For now, I am excited to welcome new possibilities and still learning to keep the faith of the third grader who ruled the world.


This is hard.
Waking up is hard.
Sleeping is too hard.
The throbbing headache is a nuisance.
This is not hangover induced.
This is self-loathing.
This is a renewed apocalypse.
When your feet is out of the edges of your blanket,
When someone pulls the rug from under your feet,
When you are not saved by the bell,
This is what it means to be alone.
A reality enforced amidst numbness into clarity.



Posted: July 22, 2014 in Uncategorized
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Dear GOD,

Writing a letter to you is my meditation. So bear with me as I go through the confusions that are making me wake up at 1 in the morning and talk to you.

I recently came across a devout Christian who somehow ruffled my somewhat sanity boat to its edge of disaster. My beliefs about why you are GOD and I your sinful daughter came to a clash. See knowing YOU would be there at the end of every dark day was what kept me going through those awful but ever so frequent days. I took comfort in our little safety haven where my fragile heart was healing (even though to the rest of the world I was Miss. Happy-Daisy) and all my insecurities about my career seemed minute.

But somehow, somewhere, someone who “knew” YOU better told me you don’t operate like my childish brain thinks YOU do. My heart sank and still is caught in disarray for Christmas day isn’t the day to tell a girl Santa isn’t real. I am shaking like a junkie in need of a rush because all I wanted to know was, all this time when I believed in YOU and jumped off a hill and got a broken wrist happened in your presence.

Someone also told me to listen to myself and I tried that as if maybe all the listening I did all these years was from a different persona. That horrified me and still does. That shook the ground I built to its core for I felt invaded; like my identity was stolen. I wondered if these same thoughts were from ‘me’. And this was when I needed YOU, GOD! I needed MY GOD!

I walked or most appropriately dragged my feet, so slowly that day and wondered if anything was real, if all the things I attached my “being”ness was real. I prayed; not knowing if YOU could hear me. I wanted to silently exhale myself out of existence. The idea of insanity was closer than ever. I needed my constant and that was my GOD.

It is hell on earth and is death to live without the serenity of your presence. I called my friend who felt the chaos in my voice and he tried to calm me down even though, I, at the time couldn’t utter what happened to me. Someone robbed me of my GOD is what I wanted to say to him but it seemed so childish.

Everything seemed futile but my friend gave me a different view, a more hopeful view than the grim future that was engulfing me. His words weren’t the antidote perse; but the mere idea that someone out there knew of my disentanglement. Maybe it was YOU, GOD. Maybe my disturbance was felt in the epicenter of cosmos. I still want to believe that YOU are here.

I don’t want to judge the someone who “knew” YOU better because I understand truth is relative. But I don’t want a tornado when I am already hanging by a thread.

So GOD, just stay the same….


Posted: July 17, 2014 in Uncategorized
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As the rain falls on the window,
Cold air bangs its blow,
I sense my feet are frozen,
Scared of where they are standing
Not knowing where they ‘re going.
The future that laid ahead of us,
Is entangled by my rainy past,
The smile I bear fears my sadness,
Counting its days till my emptiness.
The storms that know of my heart,
Throw spears to break it apart.
Happiness is like a lightening,
The alarming thunder that it too is ending.
The sheet of clouds watering my eyes,
Scream-I don’t want to say goodbye!
The tears are my pleas to the Lord,
Wishing if your were here to hold.

Slowly dying…

Posted: July 10, 2014 in Uncategorized
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Constantly I go back in time and wish I could freeze,a moment in  my life when all felt complete. How is it that I let you go? How did I end up losing you? How do you not feel content when you have everything?
How do you be so absorbed in your emptiness to cause so much pain to so many people? I lost everything that made me believe I was something.
All the self help books I know say I have got to start being my own friend. I know that might be right but not when I can never see past my mistakes. I see myself in the mirror these days and I dispise me. Everything that led me to you, was everything that was true. I dont have a pedestal to look at life in all its possibilities.
I don’t think I can ever move past your innocence, I tarnished unless time moves back to when there was a we; and we had it all.


When is vulnerability a triumph? Why is it hard to be vulnerable? How much is too much when you open yourself to new experiences? When will it ever be easy to let go of old memories and be happy about new ones?

I always find it hard to start on new paths in life. Scared? Maybe. But it isn’t just the fact I miss the people I leave behind but it is the stomach churning gut feeling that screams the loss of an era!

I feel lost in my own home now more than ever. I feel disconnected with my  own  parents. They say it gets better but does it really? Or do we just force ourselves to become part of a world we left behind far long ago. Don’t mistake me for an ungrateful child because its partly the idea of making them happy that tied me to a thing called life.

Where do I rightfully live as Elizabeth Gilbert put it. Where is my place to avoid these hurricanes of changes? I doubt that I want to be safe anymore if I must change and in the process lose the ties that awake my senses. Is being safe a tale we tell ourselves to avoid the changes that inevitably consume us?

Maybe in a week time I will ”adjust” to being mundane and return to my mediocre life for anything beyond that seems far fetched and too much to ask.

I would love to have a bottle of vodka to drain my brain out of  its misery but that too seems ordinary.

The Road Not Taken


Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.