Forever yours..:)

We sing together out of key,
Although we try it seems we just can't find our harmony,
We just don't fit each others frequencies,
That makes you out of reach,
And I am finally accepting that,

About you and me, it's plain to see,
We only ever want to stay inside and watch TV,
Because that's just as good a memory,
You're just good company,
And I am finally accepting that,

Remember the time when we stole the whole day?
And nobody knows it, we took it away,
And it will be forever mine,
And it will be forever yours
Now we own the night, and it can't be undone,
We'll never forget how it feels to be young,
Cause it will be forever mine,
And it will be forever yours

Come on darlin' have some indecency,
You know there's nothing you could say that would embarrass me,
I heard a song tell me that talk is cheap,
But it's all you do with me,
And I am finally accepting that,
It's just our routine,
We try and dream,
And buy the things we said we'd buy when we got more money,
All in the name of making memories,
That's what you want with me,
And I am finally accepting that,

Remember the time when we stole the whole day?
And nobody knows it, we took it away,
And it will be forever mine,
And it will be forever yours
Now we own the night, and it can't be undone,
We'll never forget how it feels to be young,
Cause it will be forever mine,
And it will be forever yours

Remember the time when we stole the whole day?
And nobody knows it, we took it away,
And it will be forever mine,
And it will be forever yours
Now we own the night, and it can't be undone,
We'll never forget how it feels to be young,
Cause it will be forever mine,
And it will be forever yours

This will be forever mine
This will be forever yours
Now we own the night, and it can't be undone..

Dedicated to all my friends...I'll be forever yours..:)

P.S. It has a stupid but interesting video, but don't go by that...you get the message, right?

I am not another you.

For all my love,

For all my time with you,

You help me be another you.

It was your love, I thought,

It was love you were giving,

You saw in me, your own reflection,

You thought, I was another you.

I am a moth, that’s all I am.

You, a butterfly.

But, when you saw me,

you felt otherwise,

you thought I was a butterfly in disguise,

You helped me be a butterfly,

I acted, I pretended for long to be one,

Saw my reflection in the river one day,

And saw the truth for what it was,

a moth I was, and that’s all I’ll ever be, I knew.

Torn in a conflict, to be me,

Or be what you thought of me,

I cried for nights,

And then realized that,

I could be you, just for a while.

For all I try,

that truth stands

that I ain't another you.

That Girl in The Corridor..

We meet every day in the corridors. We greet each other like best friends but, I don't even know her last name. We see each other every day in the common kitchen, and I know she has tea everyday in the morning. She is an early riser as I am. She is a nice person to talk to, I believe. That's something I know from our conversations about her exams and teachers. I know, she lives three rooms away from mine.
But, in the last 6 months, since we have known each other, I have never entered her room even once. She hasn't come to my room either except once when she came to wish me on my birthday. We are barely friends, going by the definition of “friends”.
She saw me sob, while I talked on the phone last night. I looked at her, and turned away to hide my tears. It was an awkward moment. She didn't have the authority to ask me the reason, and I didn't want to share something so personal. She left, not knowing what to do.
She came to my room this morning. We greeted each other merrily as we always do. She tried to study me eyes, to check if I was okay now. I still wanted to know why she had come, this didn't happen otherwise. Sensing my curiosity, she asked me if she could fetch me some water from the ground floor, she was going there anyway. It was the lamest excuse ever. I guessed why she was in my room and told her that I was fine and appreciated her concern. We talked about random things for a while and she left.
It moved me to know that people still cared about each other.
I still don't know what to make of it, just felt it was an incident worth sharing!

Random Thoughts!

Most people don’t know me well enough to see through my words and my silence.

Not complaining, I am glad they don’t. I would hate it if they saw through me when I am disappointed because of something somebody said. It would be like a nightmare come true, if somebody could ever read me like an open book. There are things, like my doubts, my most honest of opinions, which I keep to myself(under normal circumstances i.e. unless I am aroused! :P)

It is a dream for most people to have that one someone in their life who can do that. As of  me, I am still not trusting enough, still not brave enough to let somebody into my life and be so close. So, I am not surprised that I haven’t found him yet.

(This post is turning out to be more melancholy than I wanted it to. Read on, anyway.)

So, because there is no way anybody will ever know this any other way, I am going to make a confession here.

For some reason, the most defining moments of life have been hearing of a friend's success, watching him/her smile about something that happened to him/her, irrespective of the fact that the incident was related to me or not. Just read a friend's blog where he had described his success. He has no idea, but he just made my day..!! He does it consciously, usually, but today he has no idea.

The most magical of moments I have experienced in my life have not been related to my success. They have had more to do with people’s smiles than anything else. When everyone else is happy, I am happy. A friend is happy, I am happy.

But people don’t realize it that when I am silently smiling with everyone else, I am enjoying the moment more than anybody in the room. Silence is usually an expression that highly under-rated. A smile is an underdog when it is compared to a laugh. I am led to believe that, when I find that someone who knows me, my smile will win, as others laugh.

I have weird ways of expressing myself, and what I have just written isn’t a rule either. It varies. As of today, I am smiling at a friend’s success and am going to sleep with a smile on my lips. What better way to end a day than that? It may mean nothing to anyone, but expressing myself by writing makes my calm and happy.

I would put my pen down here for tonight with a wish in the void, that may everybody around me be happy, making me even happier.

Good night friends!

Chapter 8: Of Words and Silence

It was like any other day. We met at the metro station, had some ice-cream together, cracked a few jokes, he asked me to bunk my class, I refused and I was just about to go about my business when he asked me to stay, and held my as if he would die if I left. His emotions were always intense, but that day looking in his eyes, I knew something was wrong and that I should stay.

I asked him what he wanted to do, I would have 2 hours to kill if I bunked my class after all. He said he didn't want to do anything. He didn't talk much that day, I had to work really hard to get him to speak, couldn't believe he was the same guy who couldn't shut up, on any other day. So, we just sat on the stairs, quietly. It was when he was quiet that it struck me, how perfect we were for each other. I needed all his words to understand his love; all he needed was to look in my eyes, to hear my voice! To him words words were a luxury, to me a basic need! But, we were doing fine, he could never stop telling me how he loved me, and I could not help but smile..! And in that smile, he would know all he needed to.

In that very moment, when I had a chance to reflect did I realize that although he talked a lot, most of what he said was about me. And, most of what I talked was about me as well. that totally explained why I could not understand his silence today. so, I decided to talk to him, about him.

He didn't say much. But, I knew something was terribly wrong.

Lost in my thoughts, I almost didn't notice when he suddenly looked at me and said, "That's why I love you. Because you can be there with me, not knowing everything, yet believing me and just being there."

He had a smile on his face for now, not one as bright as it usually is, but as bright as he could fake. He would tell me all about it, I knew it, all he needed was a little time. And all I needed was to understand this guy just a little more. Words, you know, can express a lot of things, but his sadness wasn't one of them. I could cry and tell him all that was wrong. Or he would just read my mind, but after this meet, words were a little more redundant, his silence a great deal precious.

Chapter 7: Of Love and other things.

Everybody around me was changing. So was I. Browsing through the pictures of my old friends from school and college, it seemed like a century since I had last known them. They had weird haircuts, dressed differently, a friend who barely had hair on his face in school, now sported a chin patch. It was interesting to see all of it.

Looking at all of them made me take a look at my pictures as well. Browsing through them, I wondered if my friends would think the same when they looked at my pictures.

I shrugged. They obviously would. But, then who said change was bad? Look at me, just two months ago. A stupid lonely girl, painfully shy and hardly confident enough to look a stranger in the eye. And now, I could boldly express my views, had opinions, could look anybody in the eye and talk and give them a piece of my mind. These changes were hardly evident to somebody who didn't know me well enough. but, I knew I was changing and I loved the new "ME".

A stranger who had walked into my life from nowhere had something to do with it. In the last couple of days, I had accomplished a lot in my personal life. I had realized that I was just as important as the next person and that if I could not love myself, I could barely think about loving somebody else.

Shashank had given me a chance to grow. He had made me talk and those conversations had somehow changed me.

It had been only a couple of nights ago that he had professed his love for me. I was scared as hell. The thought of being in love had crossed my mind a million times, but being loved in return was far from my expectations.

Nevertheless, fate always intervenes and here I was.

The day next to being proposed to, I went to my class as usual. I did not want to think about it but, my stupid room mate could not stop talking about it. To get rid of her,I left for my class a little early.

Gosh! What a relief! It was a beautiful dream coming true, and this girl could not let me relish, savour or just cherish it my way!

Waiting for him at the metro station, I decided to browse through some books at a tiny bookstore near our cafe at the station.

A lot of junk is making its way into the publishing world these days. A look at these books that flood the market, is highly irritating. I pushed the junk away to take a look at the real literature. I was particularly pleased to find a book by James Joyce. Seemed like I had hit gold.

Just then, somebody placed a copy of "P.S. I Love You" in front me. Peeved at it, I turned around to see who it was. And there he stood, with a bouquet of beautiful roses.

I blushed and smiled. I didn't know how to react to it. No idea whatsoever. I had contemplated what I would do when I meet Shashank earlier all day. Could not come up with a thing.

And there I stood in a situation, I had never imagined I would be in.

I gave my most charming smile and accepted the roses. And turned to around to pick up a book from the junk I had just put aside. It was titled, "Just Friends?". My witty friend was quick to find a book titled, "Let's fall in love". I didn't want to say anything. I knew he could read my mind anyway. So, I just smiled and walked away with my bouquet of red roses close to my heart.

Chapter 6: A pleasant shock or a jolting surprise!

"Baatien kuch ankahi si, kuch ansuni si honi lagi...shayad yahi hai pyaar..." sang my room mate as I talked to Shashank on a winter night, snuggled in my blanket. It had been 2 months since we had first met, our talks still didn't seem to come to an end. Talking about almost anything under the sky: books, characters in a book, movies, TV shows, almost anything.

It had become a daily ritual. We would get the same book issued from British Council library and then read and discuss it everyday. I would tell him how much I loved or hated a character. He would just listen, as if it was the most important thing in the world. He was in the middle of jobs and I was yet to join my office at Pune. We had all the time in the world and we spent it doing what we loved most.

I met him after my class at Rajiv Chowk metro station, every other day and we would sit there for a while, and talk. We never had much in common to talk about in the beginning but then one day he suggested that we discuss books. It was something both of us shared love for.

That night was supposed to be no different. But it was. He asked me to come online, said he badly needed to see me. "Why do you want to see me?", I asked. This was the first time that he asked me to do that. We had not been able to meet over the weekend. I had been sick. "Just come online, listen to me for once!", he insisted.

I did as asked, a little reluctantly. "Oh! this feels so much better. I was anxious all day, looking at you makes me feel relaxed", he said. I blushed. I hated it that he could see that. "I love you, Deepali!", he said. I was out of the blue and I could not believe my ears. I wanted to shut the laptop and go hide in my blanket. I almost had, when he said it again. "I love you and even if you shut this laptop and go away, I will see you tomorrow and tell you the same thing again. So stay here and listen to me." It was a weird moment. How could he guess what was on my mind? But he could. He had been doing that since we had first met.

"I do not want you to reply to that. I just wanted to let you know, I love you. I could have said it weeks ago, I have felt this way for a while now. I just wanted to be sure about it, before I said it."

I was dumbstruck. I had nothing to say. So, I really shut the laptop and snuggled into my bed. My room-mate was right there and saw everything happen. She was happy for me. She had a smile on her face, unlike me. My face was expressionless.
Everything happened wide-eyed.

Chapter 5: Head over heels and hand-in-hand!

It is one thing to be head over heels in love with someone, to constantly wait to see someone another. May be it isn't.

I didn't know it then. Didn't have much experience with love. Felt like an over grown teenager, things were happening in my life too late if I went by the narrations and chronicles my friends came up with all the time about love. I didn't know much. And, I guess that was the best part.

Naive as I was, I met Shashank all the time, after my class, before my class. My friends talked about not letting the guy being too close to you, too easily. I didn't think so. I told Shashank everything. I think he liked to hear me talk. Every time, there was a discussion, he would hardly give his stance on it and ask me, "What do you think?". Honestly, I didn't know what to say. I hardly had opinions. I would talk about the pros and cons of a situation and take an hour to get to a conclusion. He didn't mind. He would sit there patiently and hear me. He loved to see me all confused and troubled in the conflict to determine what was "right".
Ice-creams and lunches, before and after my class was a daily routine.

Despite that, I didn't know much about him. I was the one who did all the talking. So, it was obvious that he got to know more about me than I got to know about him.

What was not so obvious was that he saw things I didn't say.

It was a well kept secret for years that I took a a fraction of seconds longer than normal to get on an elevator. Nobody noticed because nobody cared. I hate elevators and the only reason I take them is that I have a lazy bone.

There was new restaurant opening at Cannaught Place. He knew all such things, foodie that he was. I was with him when I took the elevator to get to the restaurant that day. When I was about to get on, he saw the look on my face(which doesn't last for more than a second usually, but he caught it), he gave a broad grin and took my hand in his. He should have left it when we got in, but he didn't. And I didn't protest. When we got out, I lead the way and turned around to look into his eyes. I saw something I had never seen. I now know... It was love.

We had a wonderful meal at the restaurant that day. The food did suck, but the company was amazing. The elevator managed to elevate some romance that day. Later, we walked away from there, holding hands into a world both of us were yet to know!

The Break-up

Dear friends,

I had to break-up. Please don't judge me and call me a bitch. Please don't think that I get pleasure in breaking people's heart. I am no sadist. But, I am no masochist either.

I had inflicted enough pain on myself by staying in the relationship. I knew he loved me but, he wouldn't say it. I wasn't imagining things, a woman knows when someone loves her. Or may me he doesn't, who cares? Sick of thinking about it constantly. I could have waited. I did for a long time. But, there comes a point when you know that one step forward is love and one step backward is treachery. I always knew it wouldn't work out. We were too different to be together. But, my heart and mind just don't seem to get along. They don't talk, there is a communication gap and I am the one who suffers.

Yeah, about not being a masochist. I tried to love him unconditionally and without any expectations. I know that is what love is about. Unfortunately, relationships on the other hand, are about expectations, words promises and fulfillment. Yeah, love comes along too but, there are other things in a relationship as well.
So, I will not show a white flag and surrender in love. I think that's is a line from one of Dido's songs. But, as far as this relationship is concerned, I am sick of not being in love in return.
And, that's about it.

And about the "bitch" thing, I am not because I can't be. I tried to work it out but, there comes a point when enough is enough. He should have understood. I am not the only one who has to.

I may not find anyone who loves me, who may not care about me even as much as this guy did, in a lifetime. But, I am 22 and young enough to know, it is big world out there. I will find happiness in something, but here, I give up! Done with it for good!

Yours "no-so-bitchily",
Not-a-Masochist

Chapter 4: When Love brought us Together

It had been a week since I had last seen Shashank. I had asked him to find me, and left the decision of my life to the universe. I had constantly wished to meet the strange man again. In fact, the thought had dominated my mind so much, there was barely anything else I thought about. If the universe still didn't get it, it had to be completely deaf, I knew.

As I walked to British Council, from the metro station, I was disappointed. I had gone to the ice-cream parlour hoping to see him there, everyday in the week gone by and yet, nothing.

In my boring and insipid life, there was a flavour of anticipation and longing. I wanted something, for a change.

What if I had turned down fate when I let him go last time? What if he could not find me? What if he had decided not to find me ...? What if....what if....what if I never saw him again?

The thought was killing me.

I was a few minutes early for my class. I decided to use the time to go to the library and fetch a book for myself.

I picked up each book and thought, "would he still have noticed me if I had held this book instead of the one that led to our first fateful meet?"

Obsessed that I was, constantly thinking about him, I berated myself and started looking for a book to read. I picked up the latest book by Animesh Tripathi, and started to browse through the pages. I hadn't read the first book, so the sequel didn't matter, I thought. I looked up to grab another book.
I looked down into the book quickly.

Did I just see him? I was sure I was hallucinating now. I should look up again, just to check, you know.

And there he was, standing with a copy of "To kill a mocking bird", another one of my favorite books.

In that moment, words seemed irrelevant. When we looked at each other, we knew. We had been looking for each other all week. And all my thoughts disappeared.

I missed my class that day and sat there discussing books with him until we were asked to stay quiet(It was a library, almost didn't seem to notice that!)

We left and sat at a restaurant for a long time. It was only when my phone rang, that I got my senses back.
It was time for me to leave. We said our goodbyes but, this time we had exchanged contact numbers.
We were going to keep in touch. We could not afford not to.

I had always loved books, but now I loved my love for books for it was this love for books that had fixed our meeting this time.

Chapter 3: Jab We Met

"I am late. Give me my bag, I need to rush.", I shrieked to my room-mate with horror as I looked at my watch. She always borrowed my bags and clothes and forgot to return them. Annoyed by the little interest she showed, I snatched my bag from her side of the bed and emptied it on her table; hurriedly threw my books into my bag and left for British Council.

I went there for my classes for more than 3 days a week and yet, I needed to go there to fetch another book for me to read on the weekend. My room-mate had called me crazy for traveling for 35 minutes just for a book, when I could have easily waited for 2 days and picked it up on Monday. I passively agreed that I was crazy and left.

Hurrying to catch a metro for Rajiv Chowk from GTB Nagar, I didn’t even have time to get into the ladies compartment. On a Saturday morning, metros were usually running empty, so I didn’t really regret it. Oblivious of the life-changing-moment I was going to experience in a little while, I was busy saying goodbye to the book I had just finished reading again. It was a book I had savored reading every word of and relished each moment of its company, repeatedly. I was only too busy to notice Shashank who sat just opposite to me and supposedly found it interesting to see a girl smiling looking at book.

“Gone with the Wind”, he read the title of the book aloud. A stranger as he was, I decided to ignore it. Realizing that it was stupid to talk from opposite seats, he came and sat on an empty seat beside. I suddenly regretted the idea of having taken this compartment. I always travel in ladies’ compartment.
 

Silly me! 

I kept quiet. I was too meek and timid to object.

“Did you like that book?”, he asked . “Yes”, I said to keep it short. “Who was your favourite character: Scarlet or Rhett?”, He asked. I was impressed that he had read the book and I would have liked nothing better than discussing the book. But with a perfect stranger? Not really.

I did anyway. And that discussion lasted forever. I lost track of time and even forgot to get down at Rajiv chowk. And I never got to know what Rajiv Chowk metro station looked like on a weekend, because I never got down. I only realized that when I reached AIIMS metro station and panicked.

Too scared to admit that to him, I decided to get down at the next station without appearing to be a total idiot. As I put my stuff together, he realized I was going to get down. “It was really nice knowing you, …? I don’t even know your name after sitting beside you for half an hour. Don’t you find it weird?”

I smiled. “No, it isn’t weird. And you don’t know me. We know Rhett and Scarlet and you might as well call me that. Is that alright, Rhett?”, I said and beamed with pride about my witty remark.

He giggled and I got off the train. He followed and it was scary. “Don’t you think this story would never have been written if Rhett and Scarlet had not found each other, again and again?”. 

I had never spoken to a guy about my favourite book before. I had never been followed by a guy out of the metro before. I was never asked my name by a guy and never so persistently. I was nervous throughout the conversation and never before this moment had I felt more needed . I have always had a difficulty in forging relationships, but this one, though not yet a relationship, seemed easy.

He noticed that I did not know where to go, and offered to help. No stranger had ever been this nice. He seemed friendly but, but being friends with him would have been against my better judgment. So, torn in between the two emotions, I was scared to betray myself and lose control of the whole situation. On top of that, I couldn’t find my way out of that metro station, I lost my temper. I looked at that weird man and screamed. “Leave me alone. Why are you following me? I know you are being nice but why? I was supposed to get down at Rajiv Chowk but, because you distracted me, here I am at a station I don’t know and I don’t know where to go!”. He looked down at the floor and I think he was amused at what he had just done. In a few seconds I realized my mistake of having shouted at him. I apologized and he calmly pointed to the staircase to get to the other platform. I smiled apologetically and thanked him. When I turned around to walk away, he said “I will find you Scarlet. It will be of help if you could atleast give me a first name”. There was no way I was going to do that. I turned around and lied, “Find me, stranger. My friends call me Disha”. “I am Shashank, I thought you would want to know.”, he screamed after me.

That said, I left with a million thoughts in my head and yes, I never went to the library that day. I wanted to spend some more time with this special book.

Chapter 2- A lot could have happened over an icecream!

"I like vanilla, what's wrong with it?", I replied to a rather insignificant question with another insignificant question. What else could I say to a guy who was a perfect stranger. On our last meet, a few days ago, that is exactly what we were, perfect strangers. I could not call him that now, though.

In a rather unlikely situation, we had met by what people would call "chance", I would call it good fortune. But, that is another story.

I had never expected to meet him again, but he had found me.

I was happy beyond description. But, I hid it all. From him and from myself, there was no way I was going to raise my hopes. I was completely convinced that this was somebody else's story, and I was just in it for a side role. There was no way that anything exciting could ever happen in my dull life.


Things seemed to be spinning around though, here.

"What is wrong with vanilla? It is so plain, to begin with. On top of it, does it even have a flavour"? I can't even recall the last time I had one. Give it to me, I need to know what fascinates you so much with this white thing." He said, as he snatched my cup.

It is weird. Whoever told this guy, I wanted to share my ice-cream!

"You don't mind it, do you?", he said as he ate a spoonful. "Yeah, I still don't get it. You should tell me. You have been quiet all this while. Is something wrong?"
 
"Of course, something is wrong. You are eating my ice-cream and about the flavour, I like vanilla because it is the closest to simple one can get."

"Did you know that the more a person likes simple things, the more complicated he/she is?", he remarked casually.

Yes, I am complicated but he could not have known that. He hardly knows me!!!

"So, how did you find me?" I changed the topic to stop him from elaborating on that one, and more so because, I was really curious.

"Oh that! I didn't have to do much. You said you were going to Rajiv Chowk last time. All I did and could have done was to hang around this place a little more often. I deserve to be rewarded for my effort., he winked as he said. He wanted to know my real name.

I had lied the last time, and he knew it.

I was quiet. It was his turn to change the topic. "We should sit for a while. Let this be our first date!". He said, as he pulled out a chair for me. My eyes became moist and all I wanted to do was hug him at that moment. I shook my head and looked at my watch, it was just 5 minutes until my class started.

I have to make the most difficult choice of my life. Sit here for a dream date(my first date!) or attend a boring class. I would hate to be disappointed in this one. The class would be a better option.

"My name is Deepali Singhal. Find  me again.You can do that, I know." I smiled a forced smile and reached out to grab my ice-cream from him. "I get to keep the ice-cream atleast. I think I like vanilla. It isn't that bad.", he said as he clutched the ice-cream close to himself.

I smiled and left for my class. I knew this class would be point less, all I would think of would be of this weird gentleman Shashank, who had come out of nowhere and spiced up my life.

Chapter One-Perfect Strangers

Love stories are a rather sad concept to me. I am one of those people who have never had one. Never one of those people to be proposed by a million men, never one of those a guy has ever fallen in love with at first sight, I have always been jealous of all my girl friends. Yeah, it is a rather nasty thing to say but, when you have never had something your friends can take for granted, you are bound to feel that way.

It is no justification. Just a confession, perhaps.

There are always two girls in a movie, the main lead and the best friend or the ex-girlfriend, may be. They have a story too. But, their side of the story is never told, never talked about, never made movies about, because for some stories, there is no "happily ever after" ending.

My line of thought was interrupted by a guy who excused himself after he almost bumped into me. "It is okay", I said and moved towards my destination.

Rajiv Chowk Metro station is always a crowded place.

I wonder if it is just as crowded on weekends.

I spotted a couple through the corner of my eye, I sighed. The tragic trail of thoughts came back to me.

I have never been there. I have never had a guy to pull a chair for me to sit in. It must be a happy feeling.

I reached my destination, an ice cream parlor I visit almost every time I am at the metro station which is almost everyday these days. I switch metros to get to my classes at British Council, here.

"A vanilla single scoop in a cup, please", I said. The guy seemed to be busy and did not hear me. I repeated my order, another guy heard me.

"Not many people have vanilla these days. You seem old -fashioned", came a voice from behind me. I looked around and found a familiar face.

He smiled at me, and I smiled back. He hugged me, caught me off guard. I hugged him back. I knew it would be rude not to.

"So, you found me", I said. "I had to.", he said with the most charming smile I had ever seen.

"One black current, please", he said to the guy who held out my vanilla.

All my stupid, boring and tragic thoughts vanished into thin air as he offered my vanilla to me.

I want to loose myself sometime...

I want to loose myself sometime,
let go of all inhibitions,
loose control of my tongue,
speak out aloud,
all that's in my heart.

I want to tell the world,
what I think,
who I am,
but nobody's listening.

I want to loose myself sometime,
to someone who wants to know,
to somebody can't wait until the morning,
to know what I have to say,
to somebody who wants to know,
what is on my mind,
to somebody who wouldn't care,
if it was right or wrong,
to somebody who would hear me,
and not judge.

I want to loose my self sometime,
to somebody to whom my words
are more than just that,
to somebody, who doesn't think he knows me,
words loose meaning otherwise,
to somebody who won't kiss me
to shut me up,
but to somebody who would kiss me to let me know
that he is, and will always be there with me.

I take time before I speak,
he will know that,
he will know that his opinion is important,
and wouldn't impose it on me.

He will know, for every word I speak,
he had to inspire a confidence,
he and only his words could have.

I want to loose myself sometime,
let go of all my inhibitions,
loose control of my tongue,
speak out aloud,
all that's in my heart!

Always, Always, Always a Host!

Hosting coffee parties every fortnight was my forte until a few weeks ago. I won't be bragging if I say that I make the best coffee at least in my home town. I mean it and my friends will vouch for that.

Every other day, the idea of partying at my place with pizzas and coffee(weird combination, I know!) would make it to one their heads and they, in turn, would make their way to my home..

I expected to miss all of that once I moved to Delhi, an unfamiliar place where I hardly knew anyone. But, who was to predict the future. As days passed by, I made friends. After having lived at home with Mum and Dad for more than to decades, I had to move out. I had to see the world, I had to be on my own.

I also knew, with my stay at my Home Sweet Home, the era of endless treats and treats to self-invited guests( :D) had come to an end.

As I made friends, I found myself inviting them over to tiny Momos treats and being invited to my own room for Pizza parties(self-invited guests again)! As fate would have it, I found myself being a host to weird parties again.

I do not know how to cook, I can barely make fine Maggi! But, even as I sat among a bunch of people, who were strangers a few months ago, I had found friends in a new city. And I had found myself again, a host at heart, a host in Gwalior, a host again!

That's Life...

When your closest friend starts writing poems, you expect him to write the first one for you. You expect to hear something you have never heard before. You expect him to surprise you, to make you feel special. But, friendship is such an effortless relationship, that you are more likely to take your best friend for granted than sit and work hard to write a poem, word by word, line by line, stanza by stanza...all this to make sure you bring a smile to their face. That is love, not friendship, isn't it?
When you don't see each for months at a stretch, it is pretty obvious, somebody else will stealthily come and replace you sooner or later, in his life. When in the 30 minutes he talks to you, every day, all he can talk about is his new friends; when that is all he wants to talk about; you hear happiness in his voice and you can almost see the excitement in his eyes. There is a lot you would want to say, but you know it can never match the enthusiasm and passion he is feeling for his new friends right now.
On one hand, you are happy that he is feeling alive again, but you can't help but wonder, how long till they take your place? How long till all the phone calls he makes to you will be replaced by text messages and then how long till the number gradually drops and how long till the day, when you are crazily searching for the last text he sent to you, the last time he remembered you, the time he even thought about you, and there is a disappointment on your face that only he could have recognized. He will think more about you than you are imagining, I assure you, but these thoughts are intercepted by his new friends now. His time will now belong to his new friends. You wonder, how long exactly, till you become a REDUNDANT part of his life?
You think about all this right now, it is just a moment and it will pass. He will call you again tomorrow with more stories and more incidents of how he wrote another poem for another one of his friends. He will tell how happy they were about the poem. You will smile and tell him, he is a great friend. But, you know it is about to change. You know, somewhere deep down in the depths of your heart, you will call him a cheat, a betrayer, in a couple of days. Things will change, the gaps of days when you receive a call from him is going to rise, and as you think about it, and your heart falls, you start to pretend that if you don't think about it, it will all go away.
But, things change, as you knew they will, and after some days of mourning, you will get over it and when a common friend will mention his name, you will be caught in the tiniest fraction of a second, when you won't recall that name. You will give a wry smile, and think to yourself, That's Life...

Of the smile that refused to fade away...

I know a lot of people and some of them are really interesting. They are people who are different and I call them interesting because when I talk to them they have things to share which I could never have thought of. The things they believe in, fascinate me.

I met Siddharth a couple of days back. Just as strange is the way we first met and the way our friendship has sustained, is how the guy thinks.

Most people prefer to find occupations which pay high emoluments but, this friend of mine has dared to choose his way based on his beliefs and faith.

I met him at his workplace. It was really heartwarming to know what he and his group were working on. They were refurbishing a children's library. He was happily painting a board that said "Open from 9 AM to 5 PM". The smile on his face, pride in his eyes, the paint on his cheeks and the song on his lips, said more than one can ever describe using words. He had many other options after his engineering from Manipal Institute of Technology. He could have gone on to take up a job in the software industry like others from his batch, but he instead, followed his heart to serve the nation. The job would have paid him well in monetary terms, but would they have inspired that smile? I doubt that.

Another thing that he taught me that day was that little things mattered. That board in front of that library mattered. You don't have to be Mahatma Gandhi to change the world or to serve the nation, you just have to believe that every drop counts.

This post is dedicated to my friend Siddharth Sethi, who dared to be different, who dared to follow his heart, And salute to his spirit of serving the nation. When most people are busy taking care of themselves, he is one of those who are working for the nation.

When I reflect on the incident now, Siddharth's face with the paint on this cheek compels me to think that there will be a million great options in life, but you don't have to always pick what seems to be the best, you can just pick whatever makes you happy. :)

My love for stupidity

We all have done stupid things. Come on, don't you pretend and say you haven't? You know you have! All of us have!

I am no exception. I've eaten that green chilly knowing I was going to breath fire later. I've jumped on a puddle knowing the shoes shall stink later and soaked feet would go numb. I've taken my bicycle and tried to cross the road, when my mum had strictly asked me not to. I have even met with accidents after that. Scraped my knees and hurt my elbows. Fallen in love with wrong people, head over heels and ended up hurting all three(Literally, all three:head, heart and heels). I've done a lot more of those "stupid" things that completely defy logic and reasoning. But the frequency of doing those has reduced as I have grown up. I wonder though whether it is a good thing.

Most of those were great experiences. The others are brilliant stories. They bring a grin on my face when I think about them. My mom scolded me for half an hour for being that stupid to eat that chilly, as I drank glass after glass of water. But I grinned as I took each gulp. My friends made faces at my smelly feet and gave disgusted looks at my muddy feet. The damp feet were itchy. But I grinned thinking of that splash I had made. And my mother had to take me to the hospital over the tiny and frequent accidents I loved to willingly indulge myself in, but all I could do was grin when the doctor asked how it all happened.

The point being it is fun to do stupid things and survive your stupidity. Its so worth it.

I feel stupid today and think I'll go ahead and do something I might gleefully regret later. It will give me a chance to smile about something in those nostalgic moments. Go on, do something stupid today and gift yourself a story to tell.

Because she reads...

I cannot come up with a reason that can seem even close to logical for posting this article. It's just that, I am a girl who reads. :)

 

Read this over at Snobster's here and repost is a must! Read on.

Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

Rosemarie Urquico