I woke up this morning and saw a bunch of lilies bloom. I got them a couple of days and had been waiting for that. However, when the moment came, it caught me by surprise. Maybe I’m insane for getting so majorly affected by something as ordinary as blooming of a flower but it’s just too beautiful! The sheer joy I felt after looking at them and admiring them and getting happy that at least one of my life choices, i.e. to always have flowers in the house, was commendable. Baby steps potterphile, that’s how we’ll go about this. Let’s not think about anything or the bigger picture or if the ordinary things I’m doing fit into the bigger picture and just be in the moment!
Disclaimer – I wanted to title this post as <\heart> but WordPress didn’t let me.They should be extra considerate towards us nerds, shouldn’t they?
A huge of up growing up (?) has been the realisation that heart breaks don’t necessarily relate to love and relationships. They can sprout up from something as minuscule as Lakeview messing up my favourite Sunday or Jeffrey Archer taking forever to come up with the next in the Clifton Chronicles (I hope you’re listening Mr. Archer) to me realising how the very company I have always hated has played a significant role in the kind of career I’d have. Doesn’t help that I’ve started having these 2 am thoughts. The entire world is sleeping and I’m sitting up in my bed like a nocturnal, myopic owl and trying to figure out my life. Having one aspect of life sorted out, once upon a time, used to be a huge source of glee but now, it’s nothing but a cause of panic – what if I lose that too. I remember reading this amazing post online a couple of nights back, where they said “are you scared, or are you not ready?”. This hit an artery particularly close to my heart. People come out shadows but I seem to be moving back into them. I literally can’t wait to fast forward till a couple of months from now and see how it shapes out to be. Or maybe, this is all a by-product of reading Neruda (I will persist you in my grace) and depression about not having my hair cut since more than an year! In the meanwhile, I’ll let the broken heart spill random 2am thoughts and have outbursts of happiness when I see my next plate of biryani (I swear I’m the most fickle person I’ve ever met!).
Words have a way of twisting their sly, ambiguous and hidden meanings into and around our minds, often weaving uncertainties and melancholy. With a heavy heart and a light head, I present “The Lost Flamingoes of Bombay”. Each page has been a treat, each word a weave of emotion. I have cried, loved and laughed with the people in those pages. At the risk of sounding melodramatic, I’ll admit that I’ve fallen in and out of love with Karan and Rhea. It’s been one of those inexplicable books that take a piece of you as they end. As sepulchral as it may sound, it moved me beyond words and made me feel okay about life. Yes, we screw up. Yes, we fail. Yes, we do not achieve every single goal we set for ourselves. Yes, every dream doesn’t go fulfilled. Yes, we make bad choices. No, every intoxication isn’t consuming. I have come undone with these pages, left with this quivering doubt that do words yield that amount of power over mortals or am I a fickle fool, waiting to be consumed.
- Coke that makes your lose weight with every sip
- Nutella that tones your body with every lick
- 2 more pairs of eyes to read more
- A world where we don’t need visas to travel (my biggest peeve)
- More food
- Even more food
- A direction to my life
- Psyhonaut’s psychotic chaos
- My mum should chill more and worry less
- Tony Stark should ask me out
- Sirius Black should ask me out
- Both of them should fight over me and the winner should be decided by a deadly combo of the triwizard tournament and the hunger games
- If I get number 13, I don’t need number 15. If I don’t get number 12, I NEED number 15
- A crossover between Harry Potter and Avengers. Loki and Lord Voldemort will absolutely annihilate New York (coz everything happens in USA) before Harry, Order of Phoenix, Thor, IronMan ❤️ and black widow stop them and rip them apart. Haven’t given a thought to Horcruxes and Hallows but this is an interesting idea for a fanfic.
- More trees
- A husky
- A fat, ginger kitten
- A black carnation
- Jai Kejriwal
This has been a useless but an entertaining list. I rest my case.
I was home a couple of weeks back and a random experiment with my phone’s camera lead me to the picture above. Like any newbie, I enthusiastically juno-ed it and increased the saturation and decreased the shadows and did all the tricks a rookie instagrammer does, before uploading it. Psychonaut shed the light on the phenomena and told me it was called a “Bokeh”. At this point of time, I have to make it absolutely clear that I am, in no certain or uncertain terms, a photographer or even remotely interested to be one. What I thought to be an accident turned out to be an actual thing. I was amused.
Fast forward to three weeks and a chance trip to some ruins where I saw this…
T’was a shiny, glittery corner with a story untold, which beckoned me with the promise of a secret unfurled. An inverted mirage, a paradox. A prefect shroud of darkness concealing light. A mere picture which looks umpteen times prettier when seen out of focus; which makes me wonder if that’s what life is – a simple journey to be undertaken without focusing on mere trivialities. Where you don’t focus on just one thing. Where losing focus means looking at the bigger pictures and, in turn, being able to perceive more. An unfocused picture. A Bokeh.
A twisted noose around the tongue
Perhaps a lost attempt at bring subtle
Trying to elucidate the simplest of all words
But, inturn, complicating it even more
A metaphor – that’s what this is
Like everything this galaxy has to offer, even the thing had an expiration date. Now, way past it, I raise a toast. Here’s to not giving a damn. Here’s to following my heart. Here’s to getting so sick of being in a mould that you gnaw your way out of it. Here’s to resetting moulds and vowing never to be in one again. Here’s to simply doing what the heart desires. Here’s to realizing what heart truly yearns for. Here’s to breaking all norms. Here’s to stop adhering to any norm. Here’s to setting my soul free. Here’s to John Grisham for saving my life. Here’s to the GMAT for keeping me rooted to reality. Here’s to Harry for waiting for me, even though I’ve been a deviant for quite sometime now. Here’s to finally striking a balance between all my worlds. Here’s to all my worlds for being so patient with me. Here’s to the intoxiation. Here’s to breaking old habits. Here’s to finding new habits. Here’s to staying a lazy bean. Here’s to the demigod for being so consistent. Here’s to my people. Here’s to every soul that spends so much time on me. Here’s to going wild, here’s to being free. Here’s to finally getting comfortable in my skin. Here’s to having a plan for the future. Here’s to the thing, which will come to me when the time is write. Here’s to patience. Here’s to ecstasy. Here’s to laughter. Again, here’s to not giving a damn in the whole wide galaxy filled with supernovas. In the end, here’s to the inevitable!
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 :)
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:
- Get a life
- Get a better life, I mean
- Lose atleast a gram
- Join a sport
- Suck at it
- Get wasted in the process
- Travel to atleast one new place
- Write more frequently
- Bitch less frequently
- Actually, bitch whenever I feel like
- Keep breathing
- Stop getting intimidated by people
- Say to yourself “you’re not bad” atleast once a week
- Go back to school
- Atleast try going back to school
- Atleast make up my mind about going back to school
- Read more
- I repeat, read more
- Stop thinking about guys. They are a lost cause.
- Stop getting so disenchanted with things
- Be a better sister
- Keep talking to my goobers
- 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!