Something that makes you happy. Something that makes you smile. Something that makes all the trivial drama, worth the while. It’s my lodestone. I have a fatal, all consuming desire for you. When the world turns its back on me, you are there. On the worst among the bad days, I can simply run and count on you to calm me down and help me breathe. With every page I turn, life gets better. It’s a love greater than what I’ve ever experienced. I doubt anything can surpass this. 

Spent over 3 hours in this pile, and it’s just a fraction of its entirety. It’s been an year and I haven’t been able to complete a section. It’s beyond words, the feeling I get every single time is step in.

Thank you for being there! Blossoms, I love thee :)


(Image source: Google)

Disdain and detachment are growing up on me. Pretty convenient too. It’s as if somebody traded an espresso for my soul. Which I did, gladly. I guess it works better this way. Moments lost in caring about the most minuscule things feel wasted. However, I’m turning 23 pretty soon and as a part of the whole “I’m growing up and getting wiser” facade, I’ve decided to do away with regret and retrospection. The two R’s that have been the bane of my existence. High time too! Let’s go back to basics and keep ourselves as the priority, without turning into mean-machine. Sounds real tough in my head but I guess that one thing I’m gonna start doing. In anticipation of my birthday, which is less than a month away, here’s a list of things I aim to accomplish in the upcoming year:

  1. Get a life
  2. Get a better life, I mean
  3. Lose atleast a gram
  4. Join a sport
  5. Suck at it 
  6. Get wasted in the process
  7. Travel to atleast one new place 
  8. Write more frequently 
  9. Bitch less frequently
  10. Actually, bitch whenever I feel like 
  11. Keep breathing 
  12. Stop getting intimidated by people
  13. Say to yourself “you’re not bad” atleast once a week
  14. Go back to school 
  15. Atleast try going back to school 
  16. Atleast make up my mind about going back to school 
  17. Read more
  18. I repeat, read more 
  19. Stop thinking about guys. They are a lost cause.
  20. Stop getting so disenchanted with things 
  21. Be a better sister 
  22. Keep talking to my goobers
  23. Stop making lists, I never complete them.

If I stay alive at the end of this, I’m treating everybody to espressos and Oreos!


Once upon time, there was soul. A soul that was free and twirled around the galaxies in a windy whirl. Then, one fine light year, she encountered a shooting star. It was the brightest thing she had ever seen and the star, incidentally, was at the peak of it shiny existence. 

She first saw a mirage, a teasing toodle that was a cynosure for her eyes. She chased it across galaxies and called it her Wonderwall. It gave her nomadic wanderings a purpose. So lost was she in chasing it, that she slowly began to dimish. Reached the scotchyland and thought, “phew, finally I can touch it!”. Alas! The nearer she went, the more she lost. In the process of finding it, she lost herself. 

One fine day, the star ran its course and faded away. Turned into a haze of smoke and left the soul bleeding at its core. She wept and slowly began to fade, until a supernova happened. Blinded by the lights, she picked up her pieces and took flight. Finally, she was her own Wonderwall.

Didn’t make much sense? Chill, even I’m clueless!


Venomous Sangrias.

I remember those 

Had a one too many shots

Seeking the venom 

In vain hope that it 

Turns out to be the antidote.

What I don’t realise is

That there’s a faint line

Between the two 

For the antidote I’ve had

Is nothing but the venom.

Slowly and Steadily

Working its way towards 

Insanity and Insomnia 

And the likelihood 

That I’ll ever wake up from this 

Is nothing but a distant dream.

Sweet, venomous Sangrias


Silhouettes and Creases

Blurred Outlines and quarters

A vague reminiscence 

A Labyrinthine passage 

Twisting and turning 

Running and gasping

We sped through it 

Only to encounter what was

Everything but we thought it’d be.

For most lesser mortals 

Strive in vain 

Weaving illusions 

Fighting pain

We are slaves of our own imagination

Often ceasing to stare at the obvious 

Chasing cars and 

Drinking out of bowls 

Trying to make sense of 

Silhouettes and Creases 

That were never there 


The weather is perfect, it’s almost dusk. I’ll take you out for the perfect cup of coffee and we’ll have the most profound conversation about the most generic things ever, which most people don’t understand. We’ll talk about how we both love “Love, Breakups, Zindagi” and that how hot Lisa Haydon and how we are scotch people and how much we love chasing cars. We might as well chase some cars. Then, we’ll waste 2 hours thinking about where to go for dinner but we’ll end up going to McDonald’s and binge on mcveggies. Then I’ll take you to my favourite drinking place and get sloshed. Once sloshed, we’ll go to corner house and eat a sundae each. It most certainly has to be “Death by Chocolate”. We’ll walk back home, kiss each other senseless and make up for all those moments we’ve yearned to be together but couldn’t be. Next morning, we’ll wake up together and you’ll make breakfast for me while I keep sleeping or wake up and throw tantrums. We’ll keep spending every following day similarly – together, in love and doing sweet nothings while falling even deeper in love. It will be then, a few years down the line, that I’ll realise or possibly admit that you are the one. I’ll take my own sweet time to do so. You’ll act happy and surprised when I say that but deep down, you’d already be knowing that for a while. Cautiously optimistic, we might take a chance and have a happy ending. Till then, let’s be naive psychos who fail to see what’s staring at us right in our face and keep wasting time apart, when we could be together and having the time of our lives. 

Life Lessons

How to lose weight for real 

1. Decide to work out 

2. Choose what to wear

3. Feel the swag in yoga pants

4. Suddenly, decide to make brownies

5. Mix the batter, put it in the oven

6. Lick the remains from the mixing bowl

7. Eat the brownies

8. Have green tea and feel refreshed 

9. Go to sleep




It’s nights like these

Desolate and delusional

That make me wonder if it’s solitude that I’ve always longed out 

Or am I making do with a tiny shadow masking as the same 

For why else would I yearn for a breath

Or seek a voice that dispels the mist 

I am of my own making 

Standing intrepidly on a fork 

With one taking me into the unknown 

The other one taking me back where I come from

The proxy – a realisation that never comes



I woke up in the middle of the night on a Sunday with a line stuck in my head “it was your indifference I couldn’t get enough of”. I knew it wasn’t the complete “Terribly Tiny Tale”. Now, any normal person would dismiss it as the onset of Monday morning blues. Not me. Being the dork, as the demigod calls me, I took a fancy to it. Next morning, I woke up puffy eyed and went to work. Every spare minute was spent digging in the archives. Success eluded me and the 140 – character marvel written by an anonymous (to me) author haunted me. Fast forward by three full days and I’m still there.

Metaphorically, I’m still hung up on the indifference. The line hits closer to home than usual. It’s always been spurts of conversation followed by long stretches of indifference. My being has always been conjectured. That is, until, I decide to put a stop to it. What happens next is role reversal. Now, I stand on a podium way above your reach and sight, and you are nothing but an assumption to me. I’m spiritless and it’s my own indifference that I can’t get enough of.


There’s a maze that exists in this place I know of. A place where I step out into the unknown and gingerly tiptoe around, seeking comfort. I am uninhibited, I fly. The only known restraint is the skepticism. I don’t know what I’m looking for, I don’t why I’m looking for it, if anything at all. I’ve risen about the generics and am attempting to venture into the maze. I step in an encounter a couple of familiar faces. Glee, euphoria, love, vexation. Its numb. A faceless void drifts ahead of me. I step deeper into the maze and try to get closer. Suddenly, I see fear. Split into two, I try to figure out how to proceed. I weigh the possibilities; I close my mind. After an infestismal amount of space and time, I end the deliberation. I move towards the void. With each single step, the faces grow distant. I’m, however, too deep into sonder to give it a thought. I grow closer to it. The void isn’t distant anymore. With every single breathe, I get deeper into it. Anticipation builds up, the known is left behind. I reach the void. It calls onto me. Without giving what I left behind a single, or even a half thought, I embrace it. I’m hit by a plethora of emotions. It’s comforting, it’s surreal and it fills up a gap that I never knew existed. I step aside and keep walking on, with content. It’s only when I turn back towards the void that I discover another face has taken its place. Melancholy. Sweet Melacholy. It’s only after I found you that I realised all the faces where mine. You came and churned out the sense. It’s only when I met you that I could begin to find myself. My sweet Melancholy.


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