Just another writer!


You write because you have an idea in your mind that feels so genuine, so important, so true. And yet, by the time this idea passes through the different filters of your mind, and into your hand, and onto the page or computer screen — it becomes distorted, and it’s been diminished. The writing you end up with is an approximation, if you’re lucky, of whatever it was you really wanted to say.

– Author Khaled Hosseini

about me.jpg

Writing- it’s a passion like no other. An art. An outlet for creativity. An observation. A tale. An insight. Or an upheaval of emotions.

Writing is all this, but so much more. And to me, it is everything. Writing is my escape, my therapy and my tranquil. It is a part of me that no matter how much I push away, won’t leave.

Hence, Voila! A 23 year old lost soul, drifting barely on a raft in this wide blue sea called life. And I am here to blog, about the mysteries of my heart, about the thoughts I can’t fathom and the passions that make me. And I am going to pour my soul out in these write-ups.

Travel is my soul. Call me a hodophile. And yet, ironically, I have an urge to travel to find my soul.

I write because I am in love with words. Call me a logophile.

I am the kind of person who thinks a Friday night plan should include spending the night with your favourite food and books. Call me a bibliophile.

My middle name should have been feminist, because well, I am a result inspired from Josephine March (Remember Little Women?). And because of the characters that I grew up with from the books I read and that I created with the stories I wrote, somehow they made me a rebel too.

I am complex, a web, a book, a mystery- each one of us are. Though rarely can we untangle this complexities for the world. Because Mr. Hosseini is absolutely right! I would be arguably fortunate if I can untangle even the slightest bit of what I imagine.  So, join me on this cacophonic journey as I, rather awkwardly and shamefully, share the exploits of the things that have been and the places that are. Join me as I try to untangle this knot, not just for the world but mainly for myself. Take a peek into my thoughts and if you have a thought to share- I’m all ears!


I miss you so much… it hurts!

The song played on repeat in my head. No, not the song, the line- Nobody said it was easy, no one ever said it would be this hard. Sigh! The power in these words were almost stinging my wounds. The pain it made me feel was unimaginable, beyond this harsh, hard reality.

Yes, I am moving away; yes, it’s another country; and yes, it’s a different time zone. Yes, I won’t see you for a long, long time; yes, it won’t be the same anymore and yes, thinking about this makes me miss you mad. I know it will be very different, I know it because I will feel it. Every day. Every day that I’m here and you’re there, I will feel it and I will miss you.

I will miss you when I wake up in the morning, knowing that I won’t be waking up to a ‘Good morning sexy!’ Instead I know a few hours of conversation is just going to turn to, “it’s late. Good night. I miss you.”

I will miss you when I am having a bad lunch because I know I won’t be able to just text you. You will be asleep, going away somewhere far in your dream land. The least I will do is hope to see you there.

I will miss you when I’m walking around in the streets of Boston, during a warm, summer afternoon. Because that’s when I’ll be living the dream we both dreamed.

I’ll miss you during the quiet evenings wondering when the sun will shine bright so I can hear from you again.

I will miss you when I am dancing alone at a nightclub while love is oozing all around me or when someone buys me a drink and I will have to politely refuse. And I know you will get up really early just so that I can finally receive a ‘Good morning’ only to see me reply ‘good night’. I will miss you even then.

I will miss you when I have your entire schedule memorized and you will have mine, but both of us just have a tiny bit of space in it for each other. I will miss you during all of those days that we spent together. Each day (read: every day) that holds a special memory that deserves a celebration.

I will miss your hugs, your kisses, your letters and your messages. I will miss your voice and your face, your smile and your warmth. I will even miss fighting with you or crying with you. I will miss insulting you, ridiculing you, laughing with you. I will miss gazing in your eyes, losing myself in you, becoming you.

I will miss your drama, your warning, your scolding and even your silent treatments.  And when this missing sill isn’t enough, I will miss you so much… until it hurts!

Yes, I know, I know what you will say- leave all the negativity aside, we will figure it out. We will prove all those fuckers against long distance relationships wrong. “Why are you bothering about all this right now,” you will ask. “We still have moments together.” I won’t deny and I won’t be negative. It will work, but before those few moments fall into my lap, and as I prepare for a takeoff, I will mourn.

Because no matter how happy I am, no matter how much fun I’ll have, I will still miss you, until I don’t have to anymore.

A Tryst of Fate!

suvi and me

The sound of the bell woke her up. Third year lectures were becoming rather dreary. Half her semester had gone sleeping at home. Wait, there’s a more profound word for that – procrastination.  Yes, half her semester had been spent procrastinating. And if it wasn’t for Papa Principal and credits for attendance, she would have spent the rest doing the same.

She looked around, in her moment of self-contemplation; most of her peers had left. Phew, it was break time again. She looked at her watch, and a wide smile appeared on her face. The foyer was going to be very crowded, she wasn’t going to have enough time to even eat, and her friends had disappeared. There was still something that made her happy- She loved breaks, especially the one at 11.20.

The foyer was packed. Out of the corner of her eye, she found what (rather, who) she was looking for- four clowns – Aldrin, Daniel, Clint & Alex. There was some excitement in making new friends, it had been quite some time, and she missed the initial stages of knowing someone, having awkward silences. And with these guys, she had lots of them. It wasn’t long before she was surrounded with four puny boys- little did she know, Malhar 2012 had given her the best graduation gift.


Sigh. She was back in college six months since graduation, only this time it was a little different. For better, for worse. Clint was her best friend (presumably friendzoned), Daniel was her lovely brother (totally bro-zoned) and Aldrin was her crush, former crush. Alex, you ask? Well he was nowhere in the picture, he had moved on. And to think of it, she actually thought of all these guys, he’d be the one to stay. Fate meddled in a lot of ways, ways unpredictable, ways heart-breaking, ways that are clueless and ways that bring dread. She’d stopped making the efforts, she knew he wouldn’t. Why would he? He had a better life, better friends, occupied minds? But wishful thinking of the little heart never gave away, until the day he came back into her life, thanks to the mighty Daniel.

Fate. Wily fate. Always got in the middle of her plans. Her plans of never ever seeing him again, never talking to him again, all those lessons learnt and she went right back into the trap. The trap that was so wonderful, so beautiful, so overwhelming, yet so wrong.  A journey was about to start, and she wasn’t ready. There were jitters; there was nervousness, awkward laughter and lots of embarrassing moments. They both didn’t know what lay ahead, a roller coaster, a trip worthy of a lifetime, a game of emotions- LOVE.


A year had passed since that day. A year of fights, break-downs, memories, trips, moments, love. It was an overwhelming year of long distance relationship. Everyone was happy for her, but she could see it in their eyes, LDRs never work. And they might’ve been right if Alex and she were out to prove them wrong. But they weren’t. They were just two people who weren’t meant to be, but they fell in love and worked on their relationship. A year apart, yet so close.

Her flashback of their first year together went in haze. It was all too soon, too fast, too right. Their first kiss still sparked an emotion in her that was surreal. His voice still rang in her ears like yesterday, ‘I love you’, he’d said. He keeps saying. She knows he’s a dork, sloppy, lazy jerk, but she also knows this sloppy, dorky, lazy jerk is hers. The pleasure of this thought can beat anything. She loved him for he let her be who she was. She knew she was weird, she knew she was complicated, and she knew no one will be able to figure her out. He never did, either. He probably won’t, ever. But he tries; he makes an effort to make her happy, to bring that smile on her face.

To think of it, it all comes down to fate, isn’t it? He got over friendzone, people ask how. She says, “He stopped talking to me for 6 months.” They still have a laugh about it, the game fate played. The game it is still playing to get them to their first anniversary. It is just all about fate. Because after all, in the end, even she’s just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her!

My Son would Never Rape a Woman

My son would never rape a woman because it’s always consensual.
(very well written)

Epiphany in the Cacophony

sad-alone-cute-girl-waiting-someone-window My son would never rape a woman. It is brutal, disgusting and immoral. He simply isn’t capable of such a thing. She has obviously enticed him. __________________________________________________________

She was at the club when it happened. Short black dress, tall black drink. She stood in the middle of the dance floor, moved her hips slowly. She made eye contact with him. She even smiled. He walked up to her and asked her to meet him at his car. When she declined, he grabbed her arm.
And what a scene she created! She fought, screamed and kicked. You want this, he told her as he pulled her out of the club. NO, she screamed, yelling as he dragged her to his car. You don’t know what you want, you’re drunk.

She sat alone in the parking lot a few hours later. Disgusting girl, she reeked of smoke and alcohol. What…

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Perks of being an Orchid

‘Perks of Being an Orchid.’ That’s the final one, I thought to myself.

I decided to start blogging suddenly, out of the blue. For some reason I didn’t ever want to blog, I always feared I would be judged, or maybe I’m not good enough or just plain didn’t want to express. I guess today the sun rose from the West.

So after wasting half a day at work thinking about what name to use as a blogger, I decided on this. (I actually tried a quiz called Which Flower are you?) I am a Libran by birth (we are always confused), so knowing me I will probably start hating the name tomorrow or would find it silly. Till then, I am an Orchid. Being an orchid basically tells you everything about me.

Orchids are very artistic, independent, sweet, love to laugh and are usually VERY good comedians. Truly optimistic, they see the better in life and make very good friends and/or lovers. They are usually honest, loyal. However, even though most Orchids are very positive to their friends and to society, Orchids usually have a very dark secret that they don’t really share unless they feel that they can trust you (Which leads to Orchids being mysterious). Orchids can have abandonment issues, so if you think of wanting one as a lover, you better make it a long-term. Orchids are actually very wise and they seem to understand the world more than most. Orchids are also very spiritual, however not religious. (I have done the simplest thing of copy-pasting this from urbandictionary.com)

That summarises it, well most of it anyway. I don’t really have a deep, dark secret (Here, it being my identity). Most times, I am very open to sharing. But I’m like a complicated novel plot. You don’t know what comes from one moment to next (Sometimes Even I don’t). But I think that’s the beauty of life. Surprise! Even if it whacks you in the face or gives you those rare back-to-back happy days, you will still have some essence of mystery. And what’s life without mystery? The only thing that counts is living each moment, never regretting and having fun.

Until then, folks!