Tag Archives: Happiness

Black and white

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“She woke with a start. The light seeping into her room brought her to reality, her mind still stuck in the place where dreams can be touched was forced to acknowledge the ugly morning. His name was on her lips, she had dreamt of him after months. It was almost as real as the sweat trickling down her back, the dream. She tried to go back to sleep, covered her head with a pillow, focused on the last thing she remembered, to relive it, to go back to the place where he slept with his arm around her waist but it was fast fading and she didn’t know how to grasp on to something that was already so hazy.

She gave up and after laying in bed for a couple of minutes thinking, she got up and went to freshen up. “I hate mornings”, she muttered as she looked in her scratched and parched mirror. She thought about the dream, while under the shower. As cold water cleansed through the previous days grease and sweat, it didn’t do anything for the mess in her mind. Few images from last nights dream remained, She had cheated on someone with him in her dream. How is that even possible? “I would never cheat on anyone, it was a foolish dream”, she convinced herself. ‘Dreams are lies and this was more of a nightmare”

Often labelled as ‘casual but honest’, she was a paradox. Known for not lying or cheating people, her moral compass usually went around in circles, never having been with a guy for very long unlike all of her other friends, she loved with a passion so strong, that it burned out very quick. Attractive and brilliant she felt that people disrupted her zen and hence, she liked things to remain casual. But him, he made her moral compass whizz, faster than the speed of light. She let go of all the boundaries that she had set for herself and loved him, almost gave away her soul but then he left.
People leave, so did he and things went back to square one. The casual sleeping around, the drinking-till-she-forgot-the-guy-she-was-making-out-with’s-name, smoking marlboro reds till her throat gave up, working up till 3:00AM sleeping till 4:00PM, Pornhub and chat rooms, Dark-circles and hangovers, deadlines and nightmares. She was fine, taking each day as it came but every once in a while late at night, when the war in her mind raged wilder than the storm-stricken sea she relapsed and regretted.

Strangely enough, the last few days had been .. happy. She was working with kids these days and nothing brought her more joy. Thus, the dream this morn left her unnerved. She hadn’t purposely thought about him in the last week, she hadn’t gone through their pictures or listened to their songs, he had crossed her mind but then he always crossed her mind. The dream made her jittery, he had been so close and she could see the gleam on his nails, the veins on his neck, the cracks in his lips. Those images flashed by and she shuddered,’is she capable of cheating on someone, Anyone with him? Can she hurt someone who loves her and trusts her just to be with him for another night’ The question haunted her, She didn’t believe in lying or cheating. Very few things in the universe were wrong according to her, cheating constituted as one of those rare things. Cheating can never be justified, she told herself and she would never cheat on anyone for she knew how it felt to be on the receiving end, she managed to convince herself. ‘It was just a dream, a stupid one that too’

* *

Later when she lay in her bed, tired after the long day staring at her Ruby Sparks poster, she wondered if anything is ever Black or White. All her life she set these ideals for herself, tried to not judge others or question their doings but can lying be justified?, she thought as the itch on her ankle screamed murder.
Born in a family where her father had cheated on her mother, her first boyfriend on her, her bestfriend’s first love on her Everywhere around her, cheating only hurt people and isn’t hurting people wrong? So how can anyone ever cheat, she thought isn’t it selfish to do something like this. Would she cheat on someone for him ? No, she wouldn’t but would she leave someone for him? If it came to that Yes, she would. But wouldn’t that constitute as cheating too? She would cheat her feelings, call her words a lie, everything she and someone had dreamt of together would be a lie, she would live a lie, she would fake feelings and words and orgasms, she would and why shouldn’t she?
He made her feel things she never knew she was capable of feeling but what if someone loves her to the stars and back?, she wondered as the sun rose and she realised it was time to sleep
Wasn’t everything supposed to be black and white?

Day 8: The moment I felt most satisfied with my life

The Moment I felt most satisfied with my life, Today’s Challenge made me smile like a retard. Isn’t it weird that we run behind such monumental things all our lives only to be content with the tiny ones, It’s the small things that make a difference.

Small things and Big money. ( The Clash between the idealist in me and the struggling-student-in-a-third-world-country in me is crazy)
The moment, The moment when I felt satisfied. MOST SATISFIED but not exhilarated, or exuberant, The moment I felt truly content was sometime last December. Oddly enough it wasn’t when I got my tattoo, or got a kick-ass college or when I got a car ( luls. because I don’t have a car :P) or even post-mindblowing- sex. I did feel satisfied but … It was sometime last December.
I went back to Pune, the city I completed my last two years of schooling from (also grade 6,7 and 8) The city where my brother and mother were and where my friends still are.  So I went back home after my Semester end exams.


One day, out of the blue I planned to go over to a friend’s place for the night, her mother was going to be out of town and we had planned to call our friends over get drunk or high, or both and just chill and catch up.  (Note: This was also the night when I puked for the first time after drinking, I drink a lot but don’t puke. I’d never puked before that and have never puked after that. It was just a sudden whiskey shot {I hate shots!} and it just came up and I puked in my hand, splattered some on my friend’s face too but hey! It’s okay, right?)

We sneaked the guys in around mid-night, they had to jump over a hedge and everything, in order to hide from her neighbours. So by 1-1:30 we had finished a bottle of whiskey
and were done with the second round of joints. With their inhibitions low, one of them was sitting on her bed-crosslegged staring at the wall, my musical friend was strumming on his
guitar, the third one was crushing some stuff for the bong and giggling, another was playing with my hair and pulling it, while I sat on the floor in the weird way that I sit while my friend whose house it was leaned against the wall, her clothes falling off her, her gorgeous hair spilled all over laughing at us.


And then, my musical friend started strumming ‘sutta ‘ (sutta is Hindi, or modernised Hindi for cigarette) , it’s like Indianised, explicitised collegey Summer of 69 or something on those
lines It’s legendary that song!, anywho he started playing it, humming alongside and all of us started singing with him on the top of our lungs. We were screaming (we weren’t supposed to because the neighbours could hear everything and my friend, along with all of us could get into trouble) but we sang. we sang all three verses, the chorus, the guitar riff and we smiled at each other, and we laughed. And God, in that moment I swear we were infinite. It felt so pure and simple. I have sung songs in my hoarse voice hundred of times, but there was something about that moment. I remember looking at each one of them, individually and I could feel them and see the spark in their eyes.
They felt it too, I hope. Jesus, I was content. satisfied. Happy. I wasn’t with all of my ‘official best friends’ (I’m lame, that way.) but was with some of the best of my friends,
I was in a room full of people I loved, I love with all my heart and soul.

I forgot, we forgot about things. About pending assignments, getting screwed, our parents finding out about our whereabouts, about the unpredictable future and deteriorating grades, about hating college and not having girlfriends or boyfriends.
We were high, high enough to feel things we hadn’t felt but not high enough to zone out (that happened later that night!) so that amplified our emotions, but good lord I felt like charlie, when he heard the tunnel song. I had this fleeting thought, where I realised how content I was there, in that moment and that place, It was then and there that I realised that it was home, that those people were home.
That moment was home.

We didn’t do anything monumental, we almost got into very serious trouble, we didn’t do anything illegal (ok. heh. underage drinking and substance abuse doesn’t count.
occasional, recreational drug abuse is okay. okay?) We were just a couple of 18 year olds, with an old guitar and no adult supervision.

And In that moment, I swear we were infinite.

A pensive girl in a library

Do you ever sit in a library and cry? Cry because there are so many beautiful books in the world and we don’t have enough time to read them all, because the pages are yellowing and the words are being forgotten by the moment. Because the world is whizzing past and the books wait endlessly till you succumb to ashes. Do you ever wonder if you’ll get time to read all the books you want to read and all the places you want to see. Does it ever happen while browsing through sections of the library you find a book you had issued but never read, a book you had been wanting to read for years but couldn’t find it, till that very moment when you finally come across it, it’s smiling at you and you want to cry. Do you ever smell the yellowing, crumbling pages and smile at them because here are words that have changed your life and a hundred other lives, and here are words that have made you the person you are and have shown you the person you want to be.

30 DAY WRITING CHALLENGE: DAY 4- YOUR VIEWS ON RELIGION

“Religion is easy”

 

I dislike studying Indian History, I don’t mind reading it and I love knowing things but studying Indian History was something I was always terrible at. I could never remember the dates or the ‘key words’. Though despite that ‘Mughal History’ was something that I always liked. So today my best friend and I went to Jama Masjid ( which to quote wikipedia is the ‘Principle Mosque of Old Delhi’.) My best friend is in town so I took her to Chandni Chowk to have some kick-ass food (read: Kebabs. Delicious, delicious Kebabs :’D) and show her around. She being a history buff has this need to go and visit all the monuments possible and Delhi being Delhi, she was thrilled. Let’s fast-forward, We were standing outside Jama Masjid but were reluctant to enter because we didn’t have anything to cover our heads with, so we were wondering what to do. There was this old man standing next to the gate, he was selling skull caps and other souvenirs, so we asked him if we could enter the mosque without covering our head. He told us that you can buy something from me to cover your head but it’s up to you, We were broke so we asked him if we absolutely had to cover our heads because despite being not-so-religious, hurting religious sentiments wasn’t our aim and the place was too gorgeous to be disrespectful.

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Anywho, that learned ancient man said something I’ll never forget, He said “Religion is easy” (” Dharam Aasaan hai beta”) and I realised maybe for him it is, maybe it is all about his god for him. In that moment it did seem simple. Maybe it is. I’m not sympathizing with people who commit atrocities in the name of religion here, I think they do not deserve to live (well, some of them) but the idea that maybe it is simple and we being the complex beings that we are, we like to complicate it, abuse it, politicize it, misinterpret it.

Yes, there are religious texts which say some horrid and strange things and I fail to understand the logic behind them, but you don’t have to take everything literally. We all enter this world and we leave it, and we get one shot to do all we want. Who knows if we will ever reincarnate or Attain Nirvana or Go to Heaven or Hell or anything, Why can’t we just want to be happy?

Why can’t we try and be a little more content with what we have, because Honestly, It does make things easier.

“Earth to earth, Dust to Dust, Ashes to Ashes”

“For Dust you are, to Dust you’ll return”

Yes, I’m quoting the Bible here (i’ve not read it) but this is what all religious texts say, mean.

All we are is a Dust, and Dust is what we’ll ever be. We’re tiny speckles of dust in the universe, we are pricks in this universe. We can never help or harm it, all we can do is try and be happy and bring some happiness to others.

Right now, Today the biggest day of the staggered Indian Elections, A quarter of the Indian Population voted. 815 million people voted, My country a country which runs on religion. Where Religion is politics and Politics is religion, the greatest democracy in the world, might be run by someone who doesn’t believe in Secularity, which in itself is a very scary thought. Not that the oh-so-secular government did any wonders, except maybe wonderfully stealing money from we the people but in a country as diverse as this, An irrational, mass-murdering bigot can not be made to sit at the center. I’m very worried because whatever the outcome, people will suffer and the purpose of democracy is lost because how can you choose between three options one of which is happy being complacent, no not complacent but invisible, saying nothing, doing nothing barring stealing Tax payers’ money; the other one which promotes one religion, (runs on a philosophy which has lost it’s essence over the centuries and has been turned into this crap ass shite which they think is justified for killing people) is intolerant, STUPID ( I mean it, I mean he wanted to declare war on a neighbouring country because 3 Jawans lost their life, I’m not defending their action but killing hundreds of thousands,’ claiming to have declared war if you were in power’ because you are too egotistical and irrational to come up with something reasonable is being stupid. I would like to ask you Mr., Would you have said the same if those Jawans weren’t Hindus?) and crude; the third option is of choosing an Idealist, an anarchist in some ways, An oppurtunist like Nehru some might say, a man who was strong enough to resign instead of giving in and giving up his ideals, but a man who is also not a competent leader. So where does that leave us? The greatest democracy in the World, a country of over 1.2 billion people? What do we do?

Sorry for the rant, From history to jama masjid to religion to Indian politics. Eh. Imaginary Audience, There’s a lot going on in this head. My sincere apologies.

LOVE 😀

What would you tell your daughter?

So today my best friend read this article on thought catalog 101 things that I will teach my daughter. It is a beautiful article, It really is.

101 things I will teach my daughter, Here’s the link:
http://thoughtcatalog.com/leah-froehle/2014/03/101-things-i-will-teach-my-daughters/

Anyway after she read it she told me,”I saw that post on what would you tell your daughter and then I wondered what would I tell her. I thought what I would tell you is what I would tell her. So this is what I would tell you”

And then she sent me this:

“I would tell you to live wise but when has happiness come out of anything wise

I would tell you to live well but when has living well made us soar

I would tell you to put your chin up and look ahead but when has looking back not made us smile

When has sucking our stomachs in and conforming to relationship norms ever been our answer to finding true love

So no I won’t tell you how to breathe and how to fly I will tell you though to find your happiness.

No matter where it lies And not just happiness for today and tomorrow but happiness for life

If its behind the pages of books or under someone’s sheets or in the way the cold feels as it melts beneath your feet

If its staying in a shared apartment with people you don’t know in a strange land

or in a bus full of strange men who play in a band

Whatever it is and wherever it is, find it. Want it and love it.

Do it now because it should be something that makes you happy even when you lay your head down to sleep for the last time.

You are the only one who will live your life and the only one to write in its pages.

Don’t be stuck out here, living in other people’s cages”

 

This is the single most beautiful thing that I’ve read And I have the best best friend in the world, I can never thank my stars enough for her. I think everyone needs to read this because 

1. It’s beautiful

2. It’s honest and real

3. I like to brag about having the best best friend in the world. yes. This is me showing off how much she loves me. 

Imaginary audience, are you jealous?

Oh, you should be. You should be.

So tell me, What would you tell your daughter?

Continue reading What would you tell your daughter?

A Risky (whiskey) affair

A for Alcohol

B for barbiturates

C for Cocaine…

..unfortunately or rather fortunately for me, I needn’t go any further than my best buddy, my comforter, my partner in crime- Alcohol.

I drink, Yes. I do. I drink to get drunk and then to pass out. Alcohol is the best invention since the wheel. The warm nights are made cool and the cold ones – warm and comforting. Boring days can be made memorable and as we all know the hazy nights are the best. You might not remember what you said/ did but they make amazing stories and you in a weird, diabolic way are actually proud of all the wrong, embarrassing things you do. At least I am, more often than not. Alcohol like Marijuana is something people are okay with, the hard drugs are a scary prospect but it’s almost as though the expect you to get drunk and puke once and experiment with recreational drugs in the dead of the night at the front porch.

I’m eighteen and I drink. I drink 1 or 2 or 3 or 4 or 5 nights a week, I drink a little and I drink a lot. Alcohol makes me happier than most people I know, I am a better more refined version of myself when drunk. I’m confident, whore-like, happy, impulsive and I can still lie to your face without batting an eyelid. Shots aren’t really my thing, I like my whiskey with water and Ice, and I firmly believe in enjoying the first drink. The first sip when the elixir of life spreads on your tongue, down the pipe and you can feel it move and the light shudder and the mental satisfaction that you have an entire bottle to go before the crack of the dawn is incomparable to anything in the world. The wonderful, rich hue of the liquor when the light falls on it at the dead of the nights and the gleam in my eye together would make us look like two lovers, ready to consummate the relationship.

Drinking alone can be the most reflective and amazing experience or the complete opposite. People oft. feel lonely when they drink alone, I on the other hand revel on the very idea of drinking alone. The silence, the breeze in the hair, the warm of my body against the cool, cold surface with the bottle in my hair and the shivers down the spine when you touch the ice. The splash of the water, when it hits the glass. The feeling of peace, of escape, With that stick of nicotine between your fingers. The feeling that nothing or no one can take away this little joy from your life, because it’s yours and yours alone. It’s yours to share or save, it’s yours to drink or mix. The feeling of power when you realise that you are killing something, that’s so very integral to you and that you can stop the act of razing it’s existence or continue with it.

Somewhere  halfway through the third drink when the first drink starts hitting slowly, the stars begin to multiply. At that point I generally detest human company, I’d rather be alone while I get drunk, once drunk it’s a different ball game. So the drink begins to hit, the body feels warm and singular against the light breeze of the starry night, While the diamonds in the sky begin to multiply and tips of your finger feel cool against your skin, you wrap your hands against the crystal (or plastic/steel et cetra) and gulp down the little that was left and wait. For for the fireworks in slow motion, wait for the moment which is the line of control to come closer and while you wait you begin preparing the fourth drink. The drink that will give you the power to be whosoever you and whatever you ever wanted to do while you put the blame on your partner in crime.

.. And things begin to get slurred, and thoughts seem obscure. Words that upset you hours ago are as immaterial and the empty bottle of whiskey lying in the corner, it’ll only be used to destroy something else later in the night when you are to drunk to comprehend your own thoughts. You laugh and pour another drink and another, it tastes sweet now like honey lime water or a fizzy drink. The mahogany flavor is wasted on your wasted tongue, but you go on apologizing to the genius who created the blend in your hand and pour another and guzzle it down in sheer disrespect.

You forget things, things you wanted to remember and the tiniest bits of the siliest of conversations will come to your mind. You’ll laugh at your own jokes and call someone up and talk to them. you won’t be scared of how the world will think of you because right now, you matter. you and you alone. You’ll be honest, brutally so. You’ll be happy, or sad. You won’t be anything in the middle you won’t be ordinary. You ‘ll be clark kent or the Joker you’ll be a papaya or a cherry, you’ll pass out or whore your night away, you’ll laugh your guts out or cry our lungs out, you might drunk dial or sexy dance, you’ll be Adam and eve and everything in between but nothing ordinary… And I promise it’ll make a good story.

Then you wake up at 4 AM craving water, which then tastes like the most delicious thing ever created. Which to be honest it actually is. So you drink some water, and some more and go back to your delicious slumber

The first step is admitting the problem so here I am, I consume alcohol like it’s my birthright but i don’t think i abuse it. The lines behind use and abuse are so fluid that till you are actually in the pits, it doesn’t hit you how serious the situation is. I do not have a substance abuse problem, for now. I do get used to things which may lead to full blown addiction I know that, but I love alcohol and how It makes me feel. It makes me feel invisible and invincible and everything in between. It solves problems by giving me bigger problems to worry about, it makes me happier than most people and it’s embedded so deeply in me that it’s impossible to filter it out. I don’t know what will happen 20 years down the lane, whether i’ll be snorting cocaine in a dingy alley, or be drinking wine in a cafe in France or Just be a happy stay a home mom sneaking whiskey during football practices but I know that this relationship is for life and though in the bargain i might damage my liver, but it does save me a lot of heart ache.

30 Day Writing challenge: Day 2 – Where would you like to be in ten years

Day 2 – Where would you like to be in ten years

Ten years is a long long time, I want a lot of things but there are two scenarios in my head and I can’t choose one, to be honest I can but the rational being in me collides with the dreamer in me and it’s a mess. So I’ll write about where I want to be, not where my family/friends/the society expects me to be in 10 years.

I want to travel, I want to see the world. I don’t want to stay at home, I don’t want a house which I call home. I want to leave, see the cities far and wide, travel in buses without knowing where they are going to take me, hook up with people I’ll never see again, eat things I never imagined I’d eat, go to places I dream of every night. I want to travel across the seas, sleep under the stars, meet people one day say goodbye the next. Travelling is grueling, I know that. It is unpredictable, unstable. I want to be free, I want no ties with anyone, I don’t want to take care of anyone but myself If and when I have to, I want to be free of any obligations. For years I’ve taken care of people- people I’m not supposed to take care of. I want freedom.

I don’t want a family, a husband. I want kids maybe 20 years down the lane, but not ten years from now. I want to drink without getting drunk, I want to be a little more polished than I am at the moment, a little less analytical  a little more brave. I want to be happier than I am at the moment. I know I’m almost the girl in the book, Almost. The girl in the book is always alone.She is brave, real and foolish. She is reckless, beautiful and funny. I’m almost there. I can’t stay still and I won’t be able to even ten years from now. I want the dreamer in me to still dream, the kid in me to still watch Saturday morning cartoons. I want to be out there somewhere in the world, with a backpack and a flashlight, looking for a spot to sleep under the stars .. unless there is an apocalypse. I’m not scared of zombies or any of those creatures, I can totally pal up with those beings and chill with them.

In ten years from now I’d want to be a happy traveler and a better person. Less self-centered, More communicative. I’d like to talk less and ‘communicate’ more. Ten years from now I’ll be somewhere on the globe being my self- laughing too loud, dancing in the rain and singing under the sun

As for the zombie Apocalypse,  I’m coming to get ya’ ! ^_^

And finally, as they say

30 Day writing Challenge- Day 1: Your current relationship, or how single life is

30 Day writing Challenge-

Day 1: Your current relationship, or how single life is

Officially I’m not in a relationship, I’m just being a horrible person at the moment. So Let me confess I’m not ‘dating’ anyone but I’m sleeping with himself. We are ‘friends with benefits’ So technically I’m single but I’m sleeping with someone and yes, I like him. I don’t think he likes me though. I love it- the No strings attached routine. We cuddle, we laugh, We are cute, we avoid fighting, emotions and all that Jazz. I know it’s not like they show in the movies. I know that He won’t fall for me, One of us will get hurt etc. etc. But sometimes it’s okay to just let go. I don’t like relationships, I’m terrible at them. I don’t talk enough about myself, don’t confide in them , laugh too much, criticize their taste in music, talk to everyone, act nasty, fight at every given chance.


It’s very hard for me, the whole I-don’t-care-for-you facade. It’s not really my thing. I’m honest, sometimes brutally so and I really really like himself. I’ve liked him for almost two years now, Ever since I came to this city. We dated for a while, it didn’t work out for him but we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. I dated someone else for a while after that (didn’t cheat on him! ), but that didn’t work out as I was still hung up on himself and then I couldn’t connect with him- intellectually. My ex and I – there was nothing to talk about. I can talk to himself even though He is an asshole to me, and If I’m not wrong he is taking me for a ride but I like him and I don’t like people for too long anyway, I get bored, I am unstable but him, he is my shore. I don’t feel a lot for a lot of people, I’m really narcissistic. I like a very few people, that too for a very short period of time. Daddy issues, as some might say. I don’t trust people, I like having fun but that’s where it ends. I’m horrible once you get to know me, I’m moody, I’m annoying, I talk too much, I ‘m loud, foolish, mean and downright nasty.. !

I’ll probably end up getting really hurt in the long haul and I might even deserve it, I suppose but I really don’t care. He is the only person who knows so much about me, who knows me so well and he brings me happiness- even though they are in small dosages  and occassional. It’s worth it. I haven’t really gotten that physical with anyone, and don’t plan to in the near future but I don’t regret any of it. It was fun, It made me happy and It still does. We are cute sometimes too, we cross that line between friends with benefits and a couple are are very cutesy and cuddly, sometimes annoyingly so. So it’s not just sex, For me. He is a friend too, the closest I have at the moment. Though I’d never admit this to him.

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Both of us don’t know what we are doing, atleast I don’t but then again we are 17 and we aren’t supposed to. We are supposed to be foolish, reckless and irrational. It’d break my heart if I see if with anyone, but then again we are ‘just buddies who are sleeping with each other’ so I don’t really have the right and so I will sit here, write anonymously about himself and how awesomely weird things are, and how I love sex, how I really like him ad how he’ll never know any of these things ( unless he knows, already! ).

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I don’t think what I’m doing is wrong, because I’m not hurting anyone and really it’s very big a deal. He makes me happy, I talk too much and piss him off. So I hope to get away from the city, get my dream college and a big part of me hopes that he doens’t come to the city where I go to, because honestly I don’t think I’ll ever get over him and I’ve already spent two years thinking/crying/praying/hoping, so now it’s time for me to cut him loose and grow up a little and make a life of my own. I will probably stop being friends with him too, because let’s be honest I don’t think we can ever be just friends. Because I’m half in love with him and I’m just his booty call. So no, Thanks. I’ll pass. 🙂

And then again, as they say-

😉

cheers!

Death and Suicide.

People Die. It’s simple. We come to the planet, get one shot at everything (most of us!), try to leave a mark, succeed or fail, and people die. It’s as simple as that, but somehow someone dying is the hardest thing to bear, it’s most of ours’ worst nightmare. I’m not planning on killing myself or anything, It’s just that people around me, acquaintances, people my friends talk about etc etc are dropping dead. All of a sudden. It’s scary since most of us haven’t exactly had the chance to make our mark, most of them haven’t had that shot we’ve been dreaming of ever since we could dream of things other than meeting micky mouse. ( I still want to meet him! ^_^ )

Death- we can’t escape it.

If we dream about it we are considered to be suicidal.

if we fear it, we are cowards.

My benchmate’s best friend died a week ago, he shot himself in the head. He lives in Delhi and I was visiting Delhi, While she was in pune( teh city where I live). When I found out about it, I didn’t know what to do, I spoke to her while she cried. He didn’t die on the spot, he was put on a ventilator and all. Let’s not get into the Details. in short He passed away. What makes a perfectly normal, happy guy, with a goal in life kill himself? I don’t know, none us do I guess. I reckon it were the circumstances.

I don’t believe in any particular god, and I don’t not believe in god either. I believe in a supreme power, whether it’s a bundle of energy or a spiritual authority I don’t know. There is something I believe in, because when things get bad I hope that that supreme sciento-spiritual energy will help those who help themselves.

I don’t think suicide is a sin. It’s a way of life, some people live life and some don’t. It’s simple. It’s their life and choice. I don’t think he was weak, or a coward. Even in suicide there is courage, to take an action so big, and not only life-altering but also life-ending requires courage. He was impulsive and I suppose in those last few minutes-selfish but sometimes you have to be selfish. Maybe he felt he let himself down and there is no worse feeling in the world. It is very hard to be so selfish that the world around you ceases to exist till such an extent that you can’t see anything but your sorrows, and there is nothing more dreadful to be in a situation like that. Things get better, I know it. We heal, that’s the way of nature but in order to heal we need to stay put for those horrid moments which seem like an eternity, and sometimes those horrid moments break a person. I’m not justifying his act, I hardly knew the guy but tomorrow say someone close to me kills him/herself I’d want to be reminded of these things while I’m sad because when a tragedy hits, rationality runs out of the closest window.

Death leaves a mark, those who crave to leave a mark in life sometimes resort to death, and others just die and leave a mark. Sometimes I feel leaving a mark is overrated, it’s like being popular, there is no peace in popularity and in order to leave a mark more often than not you give up peace. Sometimes I wish I could protect the people around me from death, from doing anything stupid or Naive but it’s not really possible, is it?

I hate to admit A selfish part of me was thankful that it wasn’t my best friend,  because though we don’t talk, we can’t talk. I can’t imagine him not being there, I can’t not imagine any of my close friends not being there. I hate those phoney facebook pages which people create after someone is dead, the statuses. It makes me uncomfortable. I feel like they aren’t respecting the person’s choice or misfortune. I feel like death is getting closer to me and mine, and it scares me shitless because let’s be honest those who die, have it easy. They are dead and we sit here-waiting, wanting, praying, hoping, crying, regretting. I have always had this weird feeling that I’ll die young, It’s not something I want, It’s just a feeling and I don’t like it. If and when I die I want people to laugh, really, because I know they’ll be sad and I hope they sit and laugh a lot, listen to great music and be happy, or have a dance party maybe and eat a LOT of cake, get very drunk and have sex. In my memory. That’d make me happy.

That’s what I believe if someone kills themselves then after days, months, years whenever one comes to terms with it one should throw a party because they did what they wanted to, they are out of misery and so you must be eternally happy and live some on their behalf.

My Dog Momo :D

I like bugs and cockroaches. They are really chill. I like how roaches run, they are so graceful. I don’t like lizards but grasshopers are beautiful. I like beetles and Lady birds.

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But My favorite organism is my dog. He is not an animal, he is too stupid to be an animal and too hyper to be an insect, and too daft to be a reptile. He is  dumber than a doormat. Really. He is more of a rainbow, If rainbows were daft He’d be it. He is also beautiful. Momo ( that’s him) is a true blonde and No, I don’t mean Meryl Streep ( she’s brilliant) He is like one of those moronic blondes you crack jokes about? He is that.

He chews on his paws, wants to make friends with every cat that has roamed the streets. He is scared of cockroaches and barks at every dog who is 5 times his size. He is a cocker spaniel, doesn’t look like one though.

He eats EVERYTHING- potatoes, chicken, pencils, paper, newspapers, onions, leaves, stones, coconut shells, my sadness. EVERYTHING. He comes and puts me to bed at 6 in the morning, everyday without fail. By putting me to bed I mean, Lies down on my bed, expects me to give him a belly rub while he makes weird noises and then makes himself comfortable in our corner, next to the cooler. He bangs my pillows, destroys my homework, Overturns the dustbin, eats my favorite doll.

In winters he quietly enters my quilt and sleeps there, initially curled in a ball and later he spreads himself and expects me to sleep on the floor. He doesn’t like it when I text or talk on the phone or when my friends hug me. He doesn’t like it when I  hug ma. Momo also has this weird habit, if there is a group of girls outside the house he’ll go, jump up and act sexy in front of the prettiest girl of the lot. Everytime. He’s a boy through and through.

I love him.Image

I have realized that the only thing a person truly loves is his/her dog.
Well your parents, you are supposed to love them. Biologically.
They go out of their way for you, SO you love them.
I don’t always like my parents, but I love them.

Others- your friends, humans around you etc.
It’s selfish, if you get something you give something.
If you get attention, you give attention.
If you are loved, you return it. I wish I was a monk.
It’s ridiculous. Life.

..The saddest thing about being a human being is that only another human being can make you feel important.
Trees, birds and flowers don’t help.
and sometimes your dog. But I know my dog loves me, inspite of my flaws, tantrums and exaggerations.

similarly, my dog. I love him. whether he is peeing in the living room, or scratching my hand or molesting his pillow- I love him.

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All the pictures used are mine, Feel free to use them 🙂