Happy Birthday Pooja!

This surely sucks.

It’s your 25th birthday, and I wish I was hiding in a closet, waiting for the clock to strike 12, and then jumping out and surprising you and wishing you a “Happy Birthday”. There would be hugs. “Awww Kichu” x 100. And tears flowing from both our eyes as my friend turns 25. Happy Birthday Pooja Can you believe it? I’ve always known you as the all knowing older sister who was a role model. Who was always a mother to me (even when she was 8 years to my own 7 years of age). Who laughed like a banshee and found me the funniest thing on earth. (Strangely you still do. ) Who was my constant companion as we played badminton, teased each other with unsuitable men, and who corrupted my innocent mind. (Okay, not really).

When you took Arts, my mum was like “Pooja is so smart and she took Arts. Its okay if you also go for it“. And strangely, you paved the way for me to take Arts. You were always a dedicated student and I was beyong ecstatic when you joined Xavier’s.Those three¬†years were the best years in college. From our Malhar Contingent times, to random meetings at the Steps to that trip in Rajasthan, how could college life be anything but ordinary with you around. ūüôā

Your moving to TISS meant not meeting you for ages. And with my MBA starting it was almost as bad. When we did meet for our sleepovers, we spent more time on our gadgets than talking to one another. ( How weird were we? ) And your moving away to Switzerland almost made me tear up. How on earth would I survive without you, and your maniacal laughter?

May this year be fantastic. Splendid. Full of joy, laughter, happiness, chocolate, love and everything nice.

As the clock strikes midnight in Dubai, I want to wish you a Happy 25th Birthday. May the years be kind to you. May life continue to shower you with blessings. And may our friendship always remain. And as you know, I’m only a whatsapp away.

Here’s to spending your birthday.. I may not be there physically, but am in spirit. And these images showcase just a bit of the time spent over the years.

I love you!

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Light Girls And Dark Girls: This Is What Happens When You Internalize Racism

Thought Catalog

Dark GirlsDark Girls

I am a dark girl. And I don‚Äôt remember when I first realized this but I do remember being made to feel ugly for most of my childhood because of it. I have been called just about every name in the book that you can think of, and in several languages too. Even when you manage to decolonize your mind and let go of the pains of the past, it is a defining aspect of your childhood. It leaves you with scars and painful memories of a time that you were made to feel less than because of something as ordinary as skin color. But this isn‚Äôt about racism as we generally know it, this is about colorism ‚Äď the internalization of racism within communities of color.

This past weekend, the documentary Light Girls came out. And I watched it, not knowing exactly what to expect. When the…

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In Rememberance

3 Years.

It has been 36 months¬†since you’ve spoken your last words.

It has been 157 weeks since you looked over at me and smiled.

It has been 1096 days since this emptiness has been clawing at me.

Your death hit me hard. It still does. The days are going on and on, and the memory of pain is dull, but there are a number of times in a year when the pain is as sharp as ever.

I miss talking to you. Miss gossiping away. Miss just coming over, having chai and the sandwich and food prepared for me, miss telling you everything. Miss you lecturing me, and telling me to help my mum and be more responsible and go to church. Miss you talking about how you met Papa. And how you loved roses so. And how you always had the time for me.

You brought the family together. You were the glue. The one person whom everyone absolutely adored. You loved so much. And you were loved in return. All you wanted was for us to be a “family”. Not this bickering between cousins. Not these small misunderstandings taking the place of what should be a lovely relationship. We have become so petty.¬†You must be shaking your head in disapproval at us.

And maybe at me. I am still the same person I was. Lazy. Irregular church goer. Stubborn. Everything you disapproved of. And yet when I try to be better, I find that I am always stumbling. Always falling short of what you wanted me to be.

But, somehow, I know you dont care about that. I know you’re around. I sensed you at the grave the other day. And I see you in my dreams often. Being just the same as you always were.

Its been 3 years today. And time has smoothened the pain. But your memory.. your memory shines on. You are with me as the contacts saved by you appear on my phone. You are with me as I wear your scarf. You are with me as I dream and ponder on life.

I miss you. Every day.

I love you. 

And always will.

Keep coming back , Nana.

The Nidhi Kapoor Story : A Review

I am usually very picky with the genres I read. And with the need to escape into a book these days, I prefer to read romances and light hearted comedy and mythological adaptations. Frankly, The Nidhi Kapoor Story fits neither of the above, but I’m glad I did read it.

Nidhi Kapoor is the Bollywood Star of the generation. She inherits her legacy from her father, Nishant Kapoor and has been consistently making her mark on Bollywood. However, just when everything seems perfect, strange things begin to happen which effect Nidhi and all around her.

ACP Prakash and Rutuja, a photo journalist are out to solve the case in time and in the process get to understand each other better than ever.

What I initially thought would be a cookie cutter story, I am happy I was stumped with the way the plot progressed. Each time I thought I was right, I was proven wrong. The book does not shy away from violence, and the killings and interactions are a brutal read, but they pull you in. There is a sense of realism mixed in with the story, and yet an almost dreamlike appearance to the book which I fear describes Mumbai and its people. 

Not everyone is who they seem, and somehow after a point, you just marvel at how much one doesnt really know about people. The story does tick all the elements though : suspense, romance,murder, mystery and the big reveal. But I like that it wasnt unnecessarily dragged out and the story remained crisp till the end.

The story, honestly, played out like a movie for me. I could actually picture Deepika Padukone as Nidhi , Ranveer Singh as Prakash and Alia Bhatt as Rutuja . 

As one reads the book, its the tiny details which you grow to love. For example, I loved the tiny snippets describing Mumbai life , food and places scattered throughout the book.  I love how the book was divided according to the 5 vices and the story took shape and reflected all of them. I am truly a sucker to these kind of metaphorical content and makes me appreciate the story more.  I love growing to understand the little things that added a level of depth to each character. Prakash’s strong need to pursue things till the end, or Nidhi’s unusual childhood. Its truly fits the adage, that its circumstances that makes one who they are. 

The end and the reveal was something that came across after a character died; however, even after it is revealed who it is, my mind instantly travels back to all the crimes,and makes you wonder how the hell could I have missed it. 

Though Saurabh Garg may be a first time writer, he does have a knack to reel the reader in and then, hook  him/her. The language is crisp, simple yet leaves an impact. The characters are impossibly real and stark and leaves one with a hate-love relationship towards them. 

If you‚Äôre looking for an engaging, thrilling read which helps you escape tedious life and a plot that makes sense and leaves you with a thoughtful feeling, The Nidhi Kapoor Story is for you ūüôā

Read more on : TNKS Website

Buy It On Flipkart / Amazon

Love Letters – II

The Year – 2030

There was dust everywhere . On the shelves, over the boxes, on the floor. The girl walked towards the gilded book on the middle shelf. As she scanned through the delicate pages, a sheaf of papers fell through. Reading the first words, the only thing the girl mumbled , as she sat down to read, was “Mummy“.

15th May,2016

Dearest Nathan,

¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬†How wonderful it is to have you in my life ! I couldn’t ask for a better person to share my life with. It makes all the previous years of uncertainty and loneliness seem worth it, in the end. Because the present is Divine. It’s Heaven. Nirvana.

¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬†How I doubted my worth all those years ago.¬†How worried I was at times when I felt no one loved me or cherished me as I did for them. What I didn’t know is that all that while I was Waiting. Waiting For YOU! And how happy I am that did. ( No need to get a swollen head now. ) You’re not as irresistible as you think you are. But whatever and however you are, I shall always love you.I know , at times, I’m a tad irrational (Ok, a Lot) and quite childish, but no one understands me like you do and indulges me and makes everything seem okay.

¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬†These past few years have been wonderful and magical. I love that you listen to me and not just humour me as others always did.I am stoked that in a few days I shall call you ” My Darling Husband” and feel cherished that you seem to be as deep in love with me as I am with you. You’re the one person I am absolutely at ease with and can share everything with. And I know you feel the same way with me.

¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† I love you, Nathan. You may not be the perfect man. But you’re perfect in my eyes and nothing can ever change that.

Have A Lovely Birthday, Darling!

Your  Besotted

Em.

She had found it. She had found the proof . Now, all she had to do was show¬†It¬†to that Wretched Woman….

22 Things You Need To Do While You Have The Chance

Just an Amazing List! Going to follow through on this.

Thought Catalog

1. Go to a country whose language you do not speak, and where English is rarely spoken. Learn what it means to have to find out everything by yourself, and to live glued to your translating dictionary.

2. Sleep with your whole body stretched across the bed in your very own apartment, where no one can tell you what to do or make you be quiet so that they can sleep.

3. Take a road trip simply for the joy of being on the road and not having anywhere in particular to end up. Stop in restaurants and shops along the way that look like they belong in a Norman Rockwell painting, and eat candy that your grandparents used to love.

4. Dance with a stranger in the bar for three whole songs and then go home by yourself, without feeling like you owed them anything.

5. Read a religious…

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The Contemplation Of Loss

I am a solitary bird. Like a keeper of the night, I ponder. I can’t sleep. I can’t wake up. All I can do is dream. All I can do ¬†is fantasize . All I can do is live a lie. It’s not easy being normal. It’s a weird state of ¬†existence. It’s unnatural you may say. It’s strange . It’s antisocial.

But since when is it okay to go against everything you¬†believe¬†in , just for the sake of propriety? Aren’t the days of suppression over? Isn’t liberal thought the thing of the day? Why do nightly ramblings seem so astonishing in the morning? Why is the cloak of reason only worn during the light of day?

Where has spontaneity gone? Where has exuberance vanished to? Carpe Diem Рone of the most seized upon phrases Рis just a saying nowadays. Do we really seize the day? Do we really do things which fulfill us rather than what society or our family demand?

Am I the only one who feels that life is slipping away every now and then and we all long to do everything and more. And yet, for the sake of our career, for the sake of our family, for the sake of everybody else, we give up fighting. And then, we grow unhappy and fanciful  and long to escape.

I speak as one such¬†suppressed¬†person. Child-like dreams, youthful wishes are slowly being molded into adult-like endeavours. I am becoming one of those “people” who I always never wanted to turn into – The cynical, worldly, so called¬†sophisticated¬†people.

Sigh..

The Last Day Of The Year..

Isn’t the last day of the year supposed to be joyful? The day wherein everyone is so thankful for the past year and is awaiting the next year’s bountiful opportunities. The day when the night if full of revelry and joy and cheer and drink and celebrations. The perfect end. But I find I am in no mood for such celebration.

A friend asked me what I want for the New Year. I replied by saying : ” I Want To Be Happy.” Now, that is an expansive an answer and wish one can have . It’s so simple really. Do what you love and love what you do. Everyone seems to be aiming to be happy, but why do we make ourselves so miserable instead. We always crave more. We crave to to be loved like in the stories, we desire to meet our soulmate and be with someone who we “feel” may understand us, we want to be famous and admired by all, we need everything! But for what?! Why is it I desire to be this person that everyone else wants. Why do I always look a certain way and behave a certain way as accepted by society. Why can’t I be happy with who I am. A idealistic, crazy, generous, loyal,¬†enthusiastic¬† confused being. Must I change for you? For you to like me better and for me to indulge in my romantic fantasies.

The New Year symbolises the start of so many things. The start to a better focus on my studies. The start to more attention on my physical well being, The start to a more proactive and social person. ¬†The problem is that I don’t know what I want. I don’t know what I need. I both invite and detest confusion.

Messing Up. It’s what makes a person. It’s how we learn. Where we find joy in the things we don’t plan for in the things we never see coming.

I quite like this. I hope I learn as much as I can this upcoming year and I find joy in all I do.

Happy New Year, Readers.

Rant It All

All I want to do right now is leave everything, just pack my bags and catch the next flight out of the country. I want to travel and be in some place where I know no one. Where I can just walk around aimlessly. Where I have no responsibilities, no obligations. Nothing. Where I can be at peace . Where I can talk to anyone and no one. Does that seem a lot? Does that make me less of a modern person? Breaking away from the monotony of life. Of people. Isn’t it nice to just not be obligated to people for some time.

This is just a phase and it will pass tomorrow. But I hate feeling things so much . I want to cry and rant and rave and just let things wash over me. But I can’t let things wash over me. I can’t help feeling sick to my stomach. I feel empty. I want to punch someone and get this shit over with. I just want a change.

See, I feel better already. Oh , Fuck This Life ! And this moment.