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.

Break free

Crossing the line, didn't seem difficult. It was living on the other side, facing the reality which was hard. The truth was, that I didn't want to move on. I wanted to stay exactly where I was. But once on the other side, I realised, letting go of inhibitions was easier than I thought.

Moving on, I realised, was definitely a better option that getting used to the life I had been living.

I had to learn to take responsibilities. To take risks.

And when I broke through the wall of ignorance and convinience I had built around myself, I realised the other side was much better and brighter. I felt free.

I, had finally, learnt to live.

A Letter to the Future - Dear Chloe,.

*I wrote this for my Fresher's competition in LSR. This one's inspired by a post in Tejaswee rao's Blog - I.M.A.O.*

29th Sept, 2010


Dear Chloe,
Weird. Me writing to you even though I know someday I’m gunna read this out anyways.

I’ve always wanted to have you. For the last18 years and three days. Ever since I was born. Or, erm minus a month and three days because I probably wouldn’t have known then what it is like to have a pet dog of your own. =) But, Mum wouldn’t let me have you only.

People say you can’t talk to dogs, or rather bitches like in your case. I know I can. If I can talk to my 300-page dairy (which keeps running out of pages), for the last six years, I can talk to you too.

I plan to have you in six more years. Mum won’t have a problem then. At least she says so. Six years. It’s a target I have like those people in the investment and sales industry do. Get four customers in two days.

*Get a house. A good place to work in. A charm bracelet for my bestie. You.*

So, here you get to know who your future best friend is.

I’m eighteen. Just into college. Still overwhelmed about how I grew up so fast. (I turned into an adult just three days back!). And, out of home. And getting used to how to stay out of it. There’s no going back there again. Permanently. :/

I’m going through a very unexpected phase of life. So unexpected that I’m afraid it might change me a little. Others say it is good for me. I need to be changed. I don’t know.

Circumstances have made me insecure. Sometimes, I’m afraid if I’ll ever be able to have the pleasures of cuddling you. Of watching you sleep with you ear over my feet. Lapping up your milk and licking it on me with your teeny pink tongue. I know, you Beagles can be very cute. A neighbour had one too!

I’m afraid because I’ ve never really had what I’ve wanted. Not that I’m not happy with what I’ve got, but still.

I haven’t got THE badge of the head girl, I haven’t got to go to Columbia, I haven’t got an Honours , I haven’t got the boyfriend I wished I would. Christ! I didn’t even get NSS!
I don’t regret it. It’s just that I’ve been almost there and not had it.
I don’t want to have regrets with you.

I talk A LOT. And write. And take photographs all the time.
Along with you, I want a DSLR too. So that I can click amazing pictures of you and me together and store it in my Album- ‘Memories Forever’. =D

For your information, everyone calls me Pie. Not cutie-pie or sweety-pie or all that stuff. Just Pie. And, I love it. These days, I call myself Pie too. Although Nidhi ain’t all that bad a name.



I might not get everything in the future either but I know I’m gunna have you. And we’ll stay together in my house at Orange County where you’ll have plenty of people to play with, I promise.

I might not be the best person to take care of you. But then trust me, once yours ears get used to me, you’re gunna find it difficult to survive without me. :P

I’m very indecisive, so please don’t bother asking me about what to feed you. I’ll take you into the shop. Choose for yourself.

And, I’m not gunna put all those pinky-pinky dresses on you. I know you’re a bitch and everybody does that. But, No. I’m not everybody. You’ll have to stay my way. You adjust. I adjust.

I promise I’m not going to take you away from your mommy. I know how it feels to be far away. I’ll adopt you Chloe. And, I’ll take care of you like a mommy. Not literally of course. You know what I mean. ;)

Oh, you’ll love Sweta. She’s the one I stole your name from. She’s my best friend. And, she’s gunna be one frequent visitor. You might even get to stay with her. That’s what we planned. Both of us, you and two fish each. And Boyfriends. If needed.
Small Family. Happy Family.

Looking forward to amazing days with you.
Meet you in six years Chloe. If no one is gifting you to me, you are my ‘gifted-to-myself’ 24th birthday gift.
Until then, Lots of love,

Pie.

P. S. - I’m writing this letter for a competition. Yes. But, I’m gunna save a copy of it and make sure you listen to what all I have to say. In six years, I’m sure there’ll be much more to this. Cheers to us.

*Thanks Tejaswee. You're embedded in my memory forever. May your soul rest in peace.*

I've Been a Bad Girl

I write this, with no regrets, none at all. For what I am, I'm proud of it.

Yes, I've been a bad girl. Many a times. Before. And now. I've broken promises, made mistakes, maybe unintentionally betrayed people as well. Maybe intentionally.
I'd like to mention although, that guilt and regret are two majorly different things. And I've been wanting to say this for a long time.

A li'l personal this one is.
Note : The situations are limited to the word - 'sometimes'.

I haven't attended phonecalls or replied to messages. Why? Because I'm always pre-occupied with some work. No. Not at all times. The truth is, some very rare times, I have intentionally avoided people. For no rhyme or reason. Just because I wanted to.
Disloyal.
I've been a bad girl.

I've promised things to a lot of people and not delivered them. Sometimes, because I feel they don't deserve it. Because I feel I've already given them enough. I don't intend on fulfilling them anymore either.
Broken Promises.
I've been a bad girl.

I've escaped from work. In the most urgent of cases, I've restrained from doing work, just because I'm lazy and didn't feel the need to do so. Because I think think there's always someone else who'd be finishing it anyway.
Irresponsible.
I've been a bad girl.

I have a record of letting down people, having faith on me. And, disappointing myself. I have a record of not doing things at the right time. Of delaying things at my own disposal. Of totally not considering the famous proverb - 'Time and tide wait for none'.
Procrastinator
I've been a bad girl.

This might come as a shock.
I have intentionally kept away from helping people because I have felt that they deserve to suffer what they've suffered from. Because they don't deserve help. Because I have suffered the same and no one has helped me.
Jealous.
I've been a bad girl.

I've confused myself. Confused people. I've enforced my opinion on others, plenty of time without being sure of it myself. I've considered to have taken advice given by others, without even paying a heed. Strong opinions apart, I've been diplomatic about many an issues at hand.
Indecisive.
I've been a bad girl.

I haven't clarified many a misunderstandings just because of not wanting to confront. I haven't bridged many gaps just because I've wanted a particular person to stay away from me. I've kept quiet because of not wanting to argue.
Misleading.
I''ve been a bad girl.

I've laughed heartily on the outside, in spite of tearing down inside. I've put up a smile on my face, hiding the forceful tears in my eyes. I've been nice to people I've never liked. Blunt to people I don't want to like.
Pretentious.
I've been a bad girl.

I have today what I have done to others.
I have relatively seen the same that I've been to others. You might consider it a tit-for tat.
I don't.

I'm sorry for the times I haven't been there. For the times I've said a Yes in spite of knowing that a No would do better for you. I'm sorry for the times I've disappointed you. And me. I'm sorry for the times you've had to pay for the mistakes I committed. I'm sorry for the times when i have not helped you in distress. i'm sorry for the times, when i did not put aside the differences. I'm sorry for the times, I accepeted your apology, even though my heart had completely not forgiven you. I'm sorry for what I have done.

But, I'm not sorry for what I have,
I'm not sorry for having been a bad girl.

Yes. I've  been a bad girl.

Inception.

I sat staring at the blank wall
Woven dreams, at my threshold

A pen in hand, hundred thoughts at work

As the life I knew, I give up.

The pen in your hand is what your dreams are.

The thoughts vying to cross that threshold and bloom into life.

The life that you just gave up.

Along the corridors I walk by,

Along the sands of time.

A leap of faith, a baby step,

As the life I knew, I give up.

The corridors hold the key to your memories.

The sands of time with our footsteps.

If you look you may not leap..

Leap into the life unknown.

Bound in the blind prisons of reality

My eyes reach out far seeking freedom

Repressed fantasies compel me to have trust

As the life I knew, I give up.

Take a step, find a key. A key to your reality.

Freedom is close, not that far.

Its an illusion of your  fantasy.

The fantasy of a life you just gave up.

And I drift away to yesterday

To a life I'd never have again.

For tomorrow, my past, I close shut

As the life I knew, I give up.

And the life I  knew, I give up.

Why drift into the past? You've lived it long enough.

Its a life that has lived you well enough.

Bask in the sunshine of today, not in the shadows of what could be.

Coz what will be, will be. Even if the life you knew, you give up.

Even if the life you knew, you give up.