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30 Day writing Challenge: Day 12- Bullet your whole day

Yesterday I was going back to Delhi from Pune. Pune is where my friends are and where I did my schooling from, Delhi is where my mother just moved to and where my college is. I had gone to Pune for my vacations, for about 10 days. I was in the train yesterday, I reached Delhi around 11:00 PM.

  • 12:00 AM – Was reading Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer
  • around 12:45 AM Went out of my compartment for a smoke
  • Kept calling people for Worldcup updates
  • Read a chapter of Midnight’s Children by Rushdie
  • 1:30AM got off at Chalisgaon junction, for a minute to buy some water
  • Ignored the stares and swore to always buy 10 bottles of water in broad daylight
  • Ran towards to train because the stupid piece of shit began moving
  • 1:35 AM – Listened to some black keys
  • Cried some for Spain, wondered about how could netherlands underperform like that.
  • around 2:15ish – sat at the door and cried for Pune and for those people I call friends
  • Enjoyed the last of Rain and the cool breeze because Delhi summers can kill you
  • Went back to my seat, listened to some oasis and Nirvana till 4:00 and eventually dozed off
  • woke up around 11:00-11:30, smoked a cigarette
  • Went back to sleep because I wanted to daydream somemore about the so-called-new-found-love of my life.
  • Woke up at 12:45 to Pee and eat a little something. 
  • Had some blue lays, checked my phone for texts from my terrible friends (there weren’t any)
  • Went back to sleeping and daydreaming
  • Woke up again, had some mango juice
  • smoked another cigarette, took a dump
  • Finished the book Into the Wild 
  • Started watching Into the wild – The movie
  • Watched twenty minutes of it, didn’t feel like it
  • re-watched 500 days of summer
  • Read some midnight’s children
  • Had some mint chocolate, okay A LOT OF MINT CHOCOLATE (note: I don’t like mint chocolate but It’s like this compulsion where you have one and you need to have another few hundred milk chocolates. ya’know? )
  • Walked about the train, spoke to a few people
  • stared at a couple getting all coupley. hehehehhehehehhe. luls. PDA IS AWESOME! 
  • Played with a couple of kids. They had clay and were making shiz with clay so yea, I joined them. I LOVE CLAY. I LOVE KIDS.
  • Spoke to a  woman my  ma’s age who had a daughter my age. (I had a lot of mutual friends with her daughter too. Whoooop. This is such a small world!) 
  • She kept saying things, my ma would say and kept telling me how people my age usually are and how I’m slightly off. (she didn’t say this in words but yes, she almost nearly said it)
  • Learnt a lot from her about the workings of a mother’s mind. 
  • Cried some for Spain. 😐
  • Applauded the performance by other “apparently weaker” countries. Damn this worldcup is SO EXCITING. 
  • Waited for Delhi, as the train was running late by 2 hours.
  • smoked another cigarette, breathed in the HOT north Indian air. :\
  • Dozed off again while that woman watched seven pounds on my Laptop (I’ve never seen seven pounds.)
  • Woke up, unchained my bag, packed my stuff, waited some more for Delhi
  • Kept calling people for the world cup updates
  • Reached Delhi at 10:30 PM
  • Hitched a ride with this other woman I’d been talking to
  • She was going where I lived
  • Went across the city with her and her brother
  • spoke to Them, learnt a lot about rich people and how they make money.
  • 11:20 PM Got off near my place, smoked some and walked back home. 
  • Met my DOG after 11 days! 😀 
  • met my ma and brother after 11 days
  • Ate Ghar ka khana (a Home cooked meal) and whined about how hot it is in Delhi
  • Started watching the Match. 

 

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.

The Milk-Carton Kids – Michigan

An Indie-Folk duo from California, the Milk-Carton kids are mindblowing. You can not stop listening, you can not. They are really great.

Michigan by The Milk-Carton Kids is a song that will take you back in time where you had to leave something behind, for good and as much as it hurt you there was nothing you could do about it.

You took the words right out of my mouth
When you knew that I would need them”

These lines really resonate with me.

On terrible days like today (It was a really really crappy day!) this song seems to echo in your veins and the words seep deep into your mind only to remind you of how alone you are and what if you hadn’t left that part of you behind. It was inevitable, leaving it behind but what if you hadn’t? It’s like feeling homeless when you are sitting under a roof, your roof and feeling orphaned with your parents in the next room or feeling lonely in a room full of people.

It’s the sense of loss and longing and nostalgia that is so overpowering, that you end up questioning yourself. Saudade. The immense feeling of loss for something that will never come back.

It reminds me of how I have left over 6 cities and changed so many schools, the last drive out of that town or city. That moment when you know you can visit but you’ll be a visitor and that someone else will reside in your house, and that you question what home is?

That last drive out of the town, when you look at those things you know like the back of your hand for the last time with those eyes and leaving that part of you behind. When you know you need to leave but you don’t want to, when you know it’s the right thing but it hurts so much.

Maybe I’m reading into it, a little A LITTLE too much. But hey, I had a terrible day. I’m allowed to be philosophize and rant.

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WEDnGAvjQXw

 

What am I supposed to do now, Without you?

PS: Check out their other songs, they are AWESOME!

One Goodbye, Maybe it’s time etc. Listen to them Imaginary audience.

Leaving is Liberating.

I wrote about the need to leave, A few posts ago. I’d like to elaborate on it.

To leave is pleasure. It’s the journey till the point right before you leave, which is hard. All the planning, the deciding, the choices that you make That is nerve wracking. No one is resistant, no one is is immune to that feeling of nostalgia, and that fear of starting afresh. It’s scary starting anew, It’s intimidating each time but that’s the thrill, you can break free of all the ties, you can break out the walls that have held you captive for so long, you can dream again, dream new, dream upside down, dream monochrome or in technicolor.

You are never one person, you are different persons in different places,at various stages of the clock. You are everything to someone one day, invisible the next. You are everyone and the next minute you are a another bystander glancing their way; someone they’ve never seen before,  someone they are curious to know. Once the curiosity dies, your collective importance begins to diminish, opinions are fixed, the excitement is over, adrenaline is replaced by estrogen, feelings come into play. Yes, I know curiosity killed the cat but it also gave way to the workings of science.

Leaving is a science, an art. Only the toughest can leave, or the weakest. Nothing in the middle ever can. Leaving isn’t moderate, it isn’t neutral, it’s not the safe path, nor the right thing to do. It’s extreme  impulsive, stupid at times. It’s for the downtrodden and the dreamers, It’s for the young or the very old. Leaving is liberating in more ways than one. But those who leave can never stay too long especially with those who stay because either can’t survive with another. The difference is magnetic, it’s compelling, it binds them together but the gap is too much to cover. In the bargain one spirit shatters and the other hardens and neither is in a better place than the other.

To leave is for you and you alone, It’s not a choice but need, Home isn’t a house, it’s hearth, it’s where your head is at the moment. A distant city can be home to me, even when I’ve never been in it’s 100 mile radius.

To travel and to leave are two different things. Don’t confuse them. To travel is to see the world and come back home, and to leave is to leave a home and make another one wherever you go. They don’t know what it’s like to seek comfort in others, in things unknown, in people alien, in cities new and terrifying.. It’s the adrenaline, the fear, the high.

To leave is to be free.

and I leave, every now and then. I’m free. I’m happy.