Broken Goodbye-s

Of love. And of sacrifices.

Of the stories untold. Songs incomplete.

Promises unkept. Mysteries unsolved.

Of the thirty-two ways to make me smile.

The pen, the paper and the words worthwhile.

Of the hundred texts unsent.

Of the life lived and not forgotten.

The photographs. The memories.

Of the love that used to be.

Come back. And speak to me. <3

Photo Courtesy - DeviantArt

That Place Called Home - Revisited Part II

 10^th April, 2011. College. Last day of First Year.

16^th April, 2011. Nine months. New home.

And while we keep sitting in empty spaces, procrastinating, thinking about tomorrow, today flies past. And we hardly notice.

With first year over and nine months spent in a new place which is not new for me anymore, as I look back, there are things I want to correct and things I want to relive. I don’t regret anything. Yes, the fact that I want to rewind does not imply that I regret my decisions, some of which have been hasty and childish. Life is not perfect. And it is definitely not about taking the right decisions but making your decisions right. Right?

The irony is, even as I sit here today, running fever with a splitting headache, I’m thinking about tomorrow. My first  exam. Psychology Practicals.

I’m not prepared.

Nine months. First year over. I’m still so overwhelmed.

Looking back, LSR was the best thing which could’ve ever happened to me. I might be getting detained while I say this, but it is true.

Yes, I have been disappointed with a lot of things. With the crowd. But probably because I have not found the crowd I could be at comfort with, yet. With not getting an honours. Three extra subjects are definitely a pain and Pol. Sc., I don’t like you. Ma’am. Sweet she is. But I don’t want to study psychology anymore. Period. Expectations I haven’t fulfilled. People I haven’t been able to get along with. I have been disappointed with myself, but I don’t regret coming here.

Unless you’ve been inside these Red-bricked walls of LSR, lazed around in the front lawns fooling around with your friends, day-dreamed amongst the Bamboo-grooves, introspected sitting in the back lawns and written to your heart’s extent, future-talked with the beautiful pansies and chrysanthemums, unless you have breathed the air in LSR, you won’t know what it is like to be here. What it is like to be home. :’)

THE cafe. The cats. And the faces they make. Jaya and her absolutely abusive rant. *thats my way of showing lurrvve* and not to forget her teethy smiling poses. *I Luurve you, Jayaa* Fatimah and her constant effort to prove to us that she is jinxed and slow even though she is not. And of course her all-of-a-sudden hyperexcitement and vice versa. *Stop sulking, baby. :)* Shibaaaaani, Shibaani ki Jawaaaani *courtesy – Vasudha* or should I call her Taadddy Beear. And Shubi. Isn’t the name enough? She can, Rajni ‘Kanth’. Haha. *don’t worry, I won’t disclose our secrets ;)*

And all of you call me a Fuckface. Hmph. :/

The classes. Reaching late, to EVERY-SINGLE one of them, full of stupid excuses. *On the 2^nd of April – Ma’am, Fatimah pranked me by telling me college was off, I just came to know, it wasn’t*

Texting each other from under the desks, or from above them. *Ma,am I don’t have paper, I’m taking notes over phone*

Asking for a free period every other English lecture. Coming to the first lecture in pyjamas. Clicking photographs. Sulking about attendance. Abusing DU. Hanging out with our amazing seniors. Blah blah blah.

Well, thats JUST first year. Looking forward to two more awesome years in this home *not three, please.Not three. Just two*

Well because, ALL’S WELL THAT DOESN’T END. :D

That Place Called Home - Revisited Part I

27th October, 2010

It fills me with reminiscence. With memories – The very smell of the Gulmohar. It fills me with thoughts of the past. The life lived and not forgotten.

LSA. I miss YOU.

Yes, very contradictory but true – I miss home. Or rather a place I used to call home. More than anything I miss my favourite haunt, those evening walks with Sid and Mini, spending 14 hours with Shal glued to the Idiot box, the constant arguements and ‘conversations’ with Mommy, the bickerings with Dad, the four-hour long calls and night-stays with Sweta, the crushes and the psycho classes, the stairase conversations with Shreya and Pragati and Shrishti, the South city visits with Avarna and Riddhi, birthday bashes with my gang, coffee with Shreya and Shivi and Sritama, the events, Arpita di, Hanging out with Prateek and Maneet, The TTIS challenge – Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. I miss all of it. Home, School, Office.

Life is more about ‘getting used to’ than ’moving on’. Not that I’m missing out in Delhi. Factually, staying here has got me closer to those who I’m away from. Besides, College’s awesome. Friends are even more awesome, Evening walks are more frequent and coffees are an everyday affair. Life, is not better, not worse, but not the same either.

Thats why, I like to sit, next to YOU

It makes me sad very rarely because I cherish all the memories rather than regret not reliving it. But sometimes, nostalgia strikes my tear ducts and it strikes hard. *Little things you do for me and nobody else makes me feel good. Little things you do for me, making me smile like no one else could*

They say, the past always haunts us. I say the past haunts us for good.

To keep us alive. To keep us in touch with what we used to be and what we are now. To keep us in touch with ourselves

And then there’s the Gulmohar. Which has an equally intimidating fragrance back ‘home’ here also.

Miss you Kolkata. Love you Delhi.