Sunday, November 28, 2010


i dont love you anymore. the saddest thing is , neither do you .

Friday, November 26, 2010


It’s a brain thing – mentally, all of us are ravishing and strong and passionate and “good” in bed – real life however complicates things. In Your fantasies, the two sets of breathing lungs are always controlled – never gusty , or worse long drawn sighs – in your dreams, you moan with pleasure at the thoughts which if done to u in reality , would make you probably giggle .

The body never tickles, when you are dreaming and the entire notion of squeamishness that we actually associate with sex – is done away with. The opposite sex always ensures an unending and deep passion in you, which, as we know might not happen in reality.

Sex is a wonderful thing – in dreams. There, problems like birth control, vagina tears and smelly sheets never arise. Sex, becomes, another of those things that set life in perfect motion – romance , is already established , passion already a given. Real life , sex and love making become complex things – for you will not be sure about your body , you will worry about privacy and worse , nine out of ten cases , your mind will make it seem better than it actually was.

Random sexual encounters, will worry u of having begotten a child , or worse, AIDS. Hot women, might just have unsightly moles and hot men may just have the least impressive appendages. The thrill that dissecting a fantasy can give you , reality will never afford. So do we now say , that wishful thinking and the myriad varieties of porn are now the level of romance that god affords the rest of us in our lives ? or do we wait for fanciful things to happen . that will never happen to us ? horror of all horrors – your romance , can now be found within vibrators, dildos, and a regular yank for men now (do not have extensive knowledge on what men do).

Sex , then, with one person – becomes a good thing. You both know, each others faults and failings, and can work with them. A man , bad at sex , becomes the world’s biggest potent threat that must be exterminated – for he leaves, woman after woman unsatisfied. In such a world , where every bit of force fed romance may end in rape or atleast fears of rape , aids, heartbreak – monogamy , rules the roost . it becomes a compromise , and the most enjoyable sex ul ever have, to work with ppl who know where you tickle, who know your erogenous zones. The stranger in the barn , hotel , theatre, restaurant, never turns out to be good in bed, or you never get to check him, thinking that he probably has venereal diseases.

Why , do I pin the bane of the UNSEXY on men ? for , I believe , that , if a woman is bad at arousing a man , who is traditionally good at sex – he will not have sex with her. And if he does, he is trying to give her a good time , being charitable and hence , ultimately embalming his own ego. Alternatively , if a woman is good at sex – or “arousing” then , well , isn’t the entire point of a man good at sex , “doing” such a woman ?

Then how do we cure, this fatal disease that has hit the earth ? men who cannot kiss us lowly women , cannot “teach” and improve us mediocre ones ? who cannot satisfy us lustful ones ? who will cause us to fake , love and orgasms both ? do we read kamasutra to babies ? do we put them in sex coaching classes ? do we invest in good sex toys, that the child may have some practice on ?

Just saying…….

Sunday, November 21, 2010


"your heart is dead. it is not just black and putrid anymore, its dead. and vile thing that you are you can still get it to pump blood in your should be dead body - while you continue to live, dead-er than ever , yet you live . live the way people who really live live. you should have been dead now. why the fuck do you still live ? "

it was so passionate - it shocked me . i felt the force of his lystrine breath on my face , as he decided that he could infact shake me into being dead. i looked into his eyes , and then he looked at me -his mouth , growing smaller and smaller by the second .

"you want to laugh at me for using the word dead-er now , dont you ?"

it did the trick - and away i went , zooming into the world of condescending laughter - "hey, dont give me those black-er looks , they will not make me any dead-er."

he turned to go , but in that one stroke of poetic justice , he looked back at me , and said - "i loathe you . "

as he left , i realised , i loath-ed him right back- FUCK , LOATHED WAS A WORD. i had wanted to make it grammaticaly incorrect and funny - it came out right , anyhow.

damn you english honours !

Wednesday, November 17, 2010



Dear Teacher ,

I have been drawn to you , by my yearning to know – and my basic nature of being a kiss ass. If you are a pleasant person , and genuinely impress upon me that either youre a very good person or a very good teacher , I will want to be a name to you. A name you can connect with a face.

Its so hard sometimes , for me to be okay with the way I am. I was always a slacker – a passionate slacker , but a slacker nevertheless. It pains me that I have not been made in a way that my desire to know is matched with actually knowing things – the child in me wants to say , that my desire if met , would lead to loss of my uninformed but still individual opinion.

You know how I love thinking that the things I think are great – impressible. I live to impress, and be impressed that I have impressed. I am a child at heart – for I will want to BE patted and shown the occasional gold star. It makes me a baby , I daresay , but I like being that baby – atleast , I think I do. Whats the point of not liking something that you are always going to be right ?

I will run to you for confirmation that one day I will be appreciated by others who do not know me like you do. That’s what sometimes I don’t like about college – the ability to not really be able to connect with teachers anymore. I miss sitting with david sir or maam seth and talking my heart out about whatever was bothering me , and they always listened – listened , better than even my head listened. They made me spell out the things I feared the most.

Somewhere , I have been lucky. I am able to like the people who have something to teach me , I don’t judge them too much , and I am always awed by their knowledge. I despise those who are there to teach yet don’t – what is the point of wasting my time then ?

Sometimes, I want to tell you , all the things I want to change , that don’t let me sleep at night . I want to sit down with you , and be reassured that you know I am still there, hidden somewhere in the “teacher’s pet” -

Maybe , it was because I was never really able to open up to my friends who were always needier than I was . I don’t blame them – they didn’t have the faith I had in you , or in my parents.

Sometimes I feel so blessed to have met the people I have, that I think I am the evil eye of my life. My parents 9/10 times had the time to listen to me, if only I would be able to catch them in the right listening mood. My teachers , have always been particularly nice to me – and invoke in me more than respect , they invoke that childish love a kindergarten kid has for his teacher . I am still there, groping to hold someone’s hand , someone , whose fingers reassure me , that I am on the right path.

I have gone astray so many times , it was always a teacher who brought me back. I have given up on myself so many times, It was always a teacher who found me . I love the concept of a teacher – you are so brilliant , so patient and so wonderful .

But today, I want to tell you, how badly I have let you down. How much I have strayed from the path – and how I want to do things I would never want to tell you about. I miss the constant reassuring you knew so well to give . I want to feel like I was brilliant and special as you always made me feel.

It is a test now – a test , to not fail for else I will not only fail you, I will fail myself – I am so scared to move into the realms of my life where teachers will be scarce. I have heard cheesy things like – life is a great teacher – I somehow, always believed more in people – for god ensured I met good people. In fact , the very thought that god is more than a really kind powerful PERSON scares me. Ideas inspire and all , but they remain floating in the air, never giving you that touch of the flesh which I so crave.

I want to let you know, that I will make more mistakes, and I will be more anguished by them. I want you to know that I do not forget you, and everytime I feel like giving up on myself you come to my mind and remind me of all the previous times I had felt like giving up on myself.

One day , I want to sit with you , and feel the way about myself that I know you do. One day, I hope I am able to feel that positive and complete as you always made me feel.

You always brought the stars nearer and lowered the skies within my reach.

I love you , for you , guide me , when even I don’t want to guide myself anymore.

I will be better, I will be stronger, and I will start now.

Thank you, for reminding me , that my fears are unfounded and thank you for giving me the strength to believe in the positivity that is ME.


Tuesday, November 16, 2010


the thing that really puts me out of sorts - and believe you me there are one million things that do - but the one , that flummoxes me right now - is - HOW DO YOU CONTEND WITH BEING JUST YOU?
if i had been feeling better about things , happening all around me -i would have probably said something like - CAN U POSSIBLY BE ANYTHING BUT YOU ?

now , the answer to the latter half of my present rant , would definitely be A  YES.  eventually, however one does turn into their real selves - you will fart eventually , you will pick your nose , you will forget to say excuse me after u sneeze and you will definitely stop paying attention to things that the other person is saying. but , transitory visits to others  worlds are possible  - and done by almost all of us , on a very regular basis .

there are so many things i want to be right now - i want absolutely clear skin , i want to be three inches taller , i want to be some odd 30 kilos lighter , i want longer straighter hair , i want the straight hair to curl too sometimes when i wish it , i want to be a kishore kumar song ,i want to be the spirit of theatre , i want to be brilliant and i want to be good and beautiful.

how do i be all these things ? for i will not take care of my hair, i will not stop eating , i will refuse to drag my ass to dramsoc meetings and i will  switch from kishore kumar to some equally awesome song.

my point is - that how do you control the many visions of you ? you as someone so not you ? how ? HOW ? HOW ?

maybe , i should learn to meditate - maybe then , i can control this ever assailing battle of the can -be -me's - maybe , wishing , and desiring , and ideas do grow boring after a while.

but why would you want to live like that ? where would be the fun ?

maybe , i could  start planning my blog posts, and not finish them in some 2 minutes of writing time flat - maybe.... i shld proof read them to remove the various typos that accompany nythign i write - maybe , i could do that , ...

but then, how would it remain anythign like me anymore ?

and it being anything but me , wld take away from its character , of being the evil spawn of my mind .

I HAVE EVEN FORGOTTEN WHAT I HAD STARTED THE POST WITH .... maybe , i should edit this post , so that someone who reads it (and there are , surprisingly, nice ppl who will read this) can make some sense of it -- or maybe , i can hit publish and finish the thing i started.


Monday, November 15, 2010


Sometimes  life becomes a blank - your mind is so riddled with so many things that it is almost a relief when everything becomes blurry ; it is almost a if you are too tired to even dream a dream.

Those are the days I like the best. Confusion , you are the one who loves me the most. You keep trying to reach out to hold my hand  and be forever by my side . You keep coming back to me , not minding at all that all I want to do is banish you from my life . You exist like my shadow , keeping me cool in summers and warm in winters. You are my figurative idea of a perfect lover. You are so strong and determined and stubbornly refuse to let me push you out of my life. They tell me you make me weak , whereas I think you make me weaker . You keep me in a perfect toss, always flustered , always posing a challenge that I want to work out , forever ensuring my status with you as a damsel in distress. You never let my mind get bored, forever putting dark deeds like suicidal tendencies there. You are so charming that you get me to do things I never should do otherwise. You mar my impulses , letting me be a more impulsive albeit more foolish person. You are my adventure I say !

Confounding ? Confounded , confusion compounded. One of these days , when I am older and not so good anymore , I think you will leave me for a prettier , more simplistic soul . I shall then replace you , by your closest competition - DEPRESSION.

p.s. I think I am travelling backwards in the art of writing a blog - getting worse, with practice.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

wanting , having and wanting some more.


capitals hurt now - i feel their sharp singular same sized pointedness poking me under all that body flab directly , sharply into my ribs -- life changing ? seems like it .

i turned 20 , last week - and despite what i know feels stupid to say right now , i feel old. older than i have felt in a long time - and i feel my body shooting into old-dom with my brain refusing to move - refusing to go back to the interesting past or moving ahead , marshalling the things it thinks it should do right now. it has not been on a high for a long time , it has not stopped ticking , and sometimes i feel it will explode . i think it does not function as well as it used to earlier  - and i want it to function better than it ever did before. my mind , plays tricks on me ...... but i ramble

i had wanted to write a blog post , where i would spell out what i want to be in another 10 years --- but i think , life is so unpredictable , and so convulated - that i would rather for once try and live here in the now - dwell on the things that are not right and refuse to go completely wrong , so that you can give up on them.

i want to be so many things - and yet all i do is negate what i already am - i can see my past and future selfs cringing at what i am doing to my life right now.

am i depressed ?
no i am not

i just give up on myself a bit by bit - everyday

sometimes, i wish i could cure things like  i used to cure obstinate mood swings earlier --- eat a lot of ice cream , talk for hours to someone on the phone, read a good book , drink things that dont really taste good, have a long cry - listen to some angry rock music really loudly

its just that , i think this time  i will have to figure it out - somehow , somewhere , you want to stop running and sort things out ..

today , however is not one of those days
i run - mentally , while physically i condense into a blob.
paradoxes of life.

blaah , blaah, and more blaaah\\\

p.s this is not nymore, inspired from arushi'sblog , i wld still recommend reading hers  tho

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

This Birthday ......

1.) i want to have huge slabs of ice cream and not feel sick of it ..ever

2.) want to bring back the same happy times i used to have with a friend who is now sick of me , when we went zooming around our little world in my scooter - no this is not a judgemental point made. its true.

3.) want to wear my loreto skirt and dance on one of the library tables and get scolded horribily by maam bhatnagar

4.) want to kiss penelope cruz and then kiss johnny depp too .

5.) i want to feel as good about mc donalds as i did some 6 years back when we (tarangini, isha , bhumika ,arushi) sat loudly singing "we are loving it " in the very first mc d that opened up in lucknow.

6.) i want to sit on the cold hard floor , while my sister oils my hair and puts them into flat plaits.

7.) want to worry about papers and exams like i did , before.

8.) i want a home cooked meal , and all my friends who are not with me together here, with me

9) i want to talk to neharika gupta about doing weed.

10.) i want to listen to the wms sing some awesome song and cheer crazily for sophie and sapna.

11. want to text kritika , just for fun , asking her , fifty times a day - "which room number ?"

12.) want to make fun of shaifa !

13.) want to have my awesome meaningful early morning conversations with farnaaz khan and , do a backstreet boys karaoke with rummy.

14.) want to call asnah stupid asnah infront of three hundered people

15.) i want to see arushi ticked off five hundred times in school again.,

16.) i want to feel as bad as i used to when good friends would not turn up for my parties.

17.) i want to feel as happy as i felt , when my dad bought me my first casio , my set of harry potter books , my "tomboy" bike , my huge barbie doll collection --- somehow , last years laptop, mobile phones and other more expensive things never made me that happy .

18.) i want to wear a frilly frock , and distribute sweets to the kids in my class , and gave a couple of extra ones to the girls i really like

19.) i want to go and carefully choose the sweets i have to distribute.

20.) i want to find those anonymous gifts that sumhow , you never had the guts to tell me you got for me .

21.) i want to win another street play competition on ym birthday , and i want to get ticked off by school teachers for ruining nishant's uniform with cake oh and ofcourse that little sari debacle that happened which i would laugh at forever .

22.) i want to feel close to that girl who made a couple of birthdays so special for me -- the cards , the cake , and the simple effort u used to put in them

23.) i want arushi to give me those old westlife and backstreet boys special editions of Teenager again in the van

24.) i want those handsomely made handmade cards of ishas .

25.) i want to feel like i USEd to feel years ago when some random guy would get my number from someone and call on my birthday - the days before cellphones were permitted and the days when getting guys to wish you (cause u didnt know too many being in a convent and with no brothers) was a big deal

26.) i want to remember how tightly tejaswanee would hug me , and the little awesome gifts she would get for me.

27.) i want to feel the inane sense of pleasure ,when despite me being in the foulest of mood , pranjal and siddhant would still show outside my house , in school uniforms and beg me to let them come in.

28.) i want to remember how happy my bday used to make me

29.) i want to wear my "colour dress" and hold my mother's hand and get a picture clicked from my father's cherished canon camera - the ones we used to have before digital cameras were all teh rage.

30.) i want to feel the way i did , when madhav got me "first little fairy and other stories" as an appropriate book for a 14 year old - :)))

31.) i want to feel as resolutely as i used to feel about losing weight , like i did when i was 17 , or 16 - forgotten now.

32.) i want to remember my black leather jacket that i begged my mother to get for my thirteenth bday .

33.) i want to remember getting those cards from suzie , which she used to mail always a month late for my bday.

34.) i want to beg mariyam;s mom to allow her to send her for my party.

35.) i want to remember , crazy resolutions we made to absolutely do on our birthdays !!!

36.) i want to get cakes from friends which they would end up eating all tehmselves.

37.) i want to bully rohit into buying my make up , and making him not only pay but stand there while i bought it

38.) i want pranjal to buy me balloons for some random thing outside fun republic

39.) i want to go to the mandir with as much devotion as i used to when i was kid - when the most important thing used to be to live happily another year.

40.) i want to love the way i used to earlier , i want to be loved the way i was earlier - before , different countries got in the way,

41.) i want to read those diligently written long birthday messages of dalai , which he would end up sending from a train - and it would be special for i know how he hates texting .

42.) i want to feel that happy smile - which honey's "happy bday kudiye" always brought on my face.

43.) i want those birthday cards from udita which she always cherished more than me because , she loves cards .

44.) i want to dance like there is no end , and struggle with make up like i used to .

45.) i want to feel exicted about a mac pencil - oh wait , that i still am.

46.) i want to remember finally being allowed to wear high heels , and to be finally tall enough for a pair of jeans - only to end up gettin disapproving glances from miss noronha.

47.) i want to talk about doing shots with an excited fellow innocent girl , and maybe stumble in towards a cigarette stub or sumthing like that.

48.) i want to sit down and feel loved and special just cause it was my birhtday .

49.) i want to remember the ache that would infest my limbs for three days just cause i had so much fun on my birthday.

50.) i want , i want a lot of things - i want ricky martin's poster which got lost when we shifted houses , i want to love ddlj with the intensity i did earlier , i want that same excitement back with which isha and i would go round the field three times just discussing the essays we wrote for our silly half yearly papers , the way arushi and i would bitch for hours about everyone and everything , the way , my sister was sure to make some thing just right and everythign else absolutely wrong - i want to have the ""we shld take a trip talk" with ramla , i want the avs talks with farnaaz , i want ritu's birhtday kisses ,and i want furru's cynicism , i want tejaswanees quirks and neharika's make up tricks , i want , i want , i want johnny dep for my birhtday , i want a cake orgasm for my birthday (actually any orgasm wldnt be bad) i want i want i want

maybe , i should stop wanting , maybe then , i could act my age , maybe then i could really believe that birthdays are overrated - but i dont think , thats ever going to happen :