Sunday, August 28, 2016

"... and we tried so hard"

I think what got to me the most is the fact that I never got a voice. That you will never know that I felt as betrayed by you, as you did by me. Maybe in another universe I could live with that fact, and live with it comfortably.

But in this universe I could not.

I had to protect myself from the monster you were making me out to be. I was almost starting to believe the perception you had of me. I was starting to feel like a criminal. And I know that I fought so, so hard to let you go off it. But you didn't. You sat there, wallowing in your expectations of me, and refused to keep into consideration a lifetime of happy, loyal, supportive memories.

Would that not make anyone feel betrayed? That the most random people remember the smallest things I did for them, and were nice enough to call, text and keep in touch? And those people who I thought get me, would turn around and behave like a complete strangers?

The whys don't even matter anymore. All I have going for me is the ability to draw parallels, and claim with all my heart that if matters were to have turned around, I would deal with it much differently. I would accept apologies, I would let things go sooner, I would focus on the macro rather than the micro, I would put different things at a priority than you did. But does it even matter anymore?

Why am I still fixated with this? Turns out, I'm tired of bottling these feelings, like they're something clandestine; something I shouldn't feel. It's been a while. Life has moved on, and we've all become adults, but the same demons haunt me even now. Turns out, heartbreak doesn't just evaporate.

And you, my darling, broke my heart into tiny little pieces.

You know why? Because you'll never acknowledge it. And I can't live with that. I can live with a void, some guilt, lots of tears, and sporadic loneliness but I cannot live with that image you had of me. I am more than that, and I thought you knew.

I'm tired of walking on eggshells. I'm tired of trying to gauge the situation from your point of view to breakdown what went wrong and how I contributed to it. I'm tired of taking the blame. I don't deserve this. But so much of being an adult is about realising that one has to learn to live with things one doesn't deserve. Maybe life has something better to offer?

I will get there soon; to the place of numbness and nonchalance; to the place of not giving a damn, and not feeling like I'm completely alone (i'm not) because it's so unfair to the wonderful people in my life who do matter, who have stuck around for years, who have been there unconditionally, who have taught me the true meaning of friendship.

I will get to a point of acceptance someday; to a point of gratitude that this has made me closer to the people who matter. I will get to a point of understanding; that this is brought me closer to myself. That my relationship with my soul is far more spiritual, far more meaningful now, than ever.

But today, I am mourning. Today I am down. Today I feel betrayed, upset and sad. And I'm not going to hide from saying it out loud, with the hope that maybe this will make me feel better. 

Thursday, June 9, 2016


Am I ever going to be happy with myself?

I know they say that the key to truly living a productive life is to never be happy or satisfied and to miss the complacency boat altogether. But I'm starting to wonder if the same can be applied to self esteem.

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy. Probably the happiest I've ever been. The more content I get with work and personal life, the worse standards I hold to myself.

Whatever happened to my skin?
Why can't I just be 3 inches taller?
Why is my hair so thin? Am I balding?
Why can't I also not give a shit?

I write very often on body positivity and celebrating your individuality for work, but I'm yet to get there by myself.

Can I truly disassociate losing weight with being fit? Can I truly be happy with how I look? Are these problems even worth my time?

My wedding is in 6 months. Everyday I tell myself I will eat right and work out. I manage to do mostly only one of the two, owing to my busy job, and predictably, I feel terrible at night before I sleep.

Is it always going to be this hard to practice what one preaches?

(Typing this as I make fitness plans for the next week. I'm incorrigible)

Sunday, November 22, 2015


Back in college when I would indulge myself with back to back Amy Winehouse/Kurt Cobain sessions, I always thought by 27 I would have it figured out. (I don't know what it stands for.) 27 always felt like a get-rich-or-die-trying date.

It's a day after my 27th birthday and no, I don't have it all figured out yet. I haven't even attempted to get there. All I can do right now is take a step back and watch myself sprint around in circles, looking desperately for answers to the amazingly, confusing way in which life works.

But it's becoming increasingly difficult to write about emotions. I don't really have one definite emotion at a particular time to expand upon. I have stories. I have so many stories, and I hold the right to live in those stories as a treasured privilege and a continuous birthday gift. (Staunch believer in the writer stereotype: lazy, creative, selfish)

Someone on twitter asked me to write a birthday review, and my first thought was, "yeah, right," and then I started to think about the long gone days when I would need to write a blog post in this ever-so-illustrious blog of mine to cohesively understand my thoughts about the year that passed me by.

Over time, I've realized that it's all in your head. That sentence has the power of many comprehensions. And so, on the day after my 27th birthday, here are my top questions of 2015. Because being cryptic is my thing, and the topmost learning I've had this year is that people don't change. We just learn how to put on new faces as per convenience.

When did I turn into an editor, from an aspiring writer? Flip or embrace? Who wins between risk and acceptance?

Do I know the difference between positivity and excitement? Between ambition and aspiration?

Are we, as urbane, over-thinkers, equipped to deal with constants? Can structures work in a time when being a rebel is a celebrated quality?

Is love a constant? 

Is it time to turn vegetarian? (For real, no bacon clauses)

Can one truly reject labels?

Is loyalty overrated? 

I would end this post with a bunch of goals for the coming year, but like I said, it's all in my head. It always has been, it always will be.

Turning 27 will make you feel like you need answers, but as long as you have the ability to ask yourself questions, find your happiness in knowing answers are right around the corner, but you don't have to run towards them yet.

Time. Time will run beside you. The pace is in your hands, my friends, but the race isn't. 

Friday, October 2, 2015

The tidal wave into adulthood

The other day I was having a conversation with my mom, and she told me something I think I would like to get tattooed on me. (Not really, this is just me trying to reinforce the importance of that phrase)

"You have to learn how to be on your own, and love your company, beta," she said. And coming from her, it made so much sense. I have much to learn from her calm.

I won't lie. Life itself feels a bit like a break up. And it's so typical of me to stall my emotions with any kind of external stimuli, until it slaps me in the face. Some will call this a phase (most loved ones usually do) but there's a nagging voice inside me that is draws out the bitter truths of life with a squeaky white chalk on a black board.

This year has been great, actually. It has moulded me into the person I see myself being for the next couple of years. There has been change, yes, massive change inside me and around me, and it has poked holes into my core, drenched to dry. But change is inevitable, no? I guess that was a concept that took time for me to understand.

But beyond all this contemplative sadness, 2015 has been good. Amid all this change I've managed to identify and retain my few constants and I've kept them in a loosely bolted, treasure box in my heart. I tread every relationship with caution now, but I'm thankful for the unconditional flow of love. I'm thankful to have understood the true meaning of friendship, companionship and responsibility. I'm thankful that I can atleast attempt to let bygones be bygones. I'm getting there. I'm climbing to my ideal place.

Being 27 is tough. And the fact that I'm writing a straightforward journal entry should be proof enough. I've had to grapple with a massive writer's block too, but it's all good. I genuinely believe everything happens for a good reason. And on that note, I'm officially letting go.

It's tough to remind yourself of the good things in life when you are perennially trying to deduce, understand and analyze change. So just don't. Take your time. Grieve. Understand, and put a bolt on what you can't understand. There will be loads of those, I've learnt. And soon there will be a day when those emotions won't have just evaporated, but you will learn to coexist with them, without completely losing your mind.

I think I'm being a bit dramatic. 2015 has been quite great. It's been a year of life lessons, and even though there are 3 months left to go, I am done. When this year is over, I want to look back at it being the tidal tsunami of my life. That bungee jump into adulthood. There's no looking back. There's more to be done, and less to be thought of. More life events, and less cognitive whirlpools. More pride, less skepticism.

I know what I want, and I have to run after it. Metaphorically and otherwise :)