Because it’s hard to find someone who would understand what you are going through.

Because it takes courage to open up to somebody. Raw and complete.

Because the scariest thing is trying to be brave when deep inside, you have been shattered.

Because at times you will be judged for every decision you ever took.

Because it’s the harsh truth that will finally help you break free.

Because our tiny little mistakes can be the reason of somebody’s heartbreak.

Because at times you want to scream out loud just so that somebody would hear you.

Because smiling through your pain is sometimes the easiest thing to do.

Because you might be surrounded by people all the time but there will be nobody who notices your tears.

Because you have to be your own hero.

Because we are so busy “trying” to be happy that we have forgotten what actual happiness feels like.

Because you’ve cried yourself to sleep on countless nights.

Because nobody has seen your tears.

Because showing people your feelings makes you feel vulnerable.

Because it hurts when nobody understands you.

Because you’ve tried and failed at making people understand.

Because it’s your fake smile that people are used to now.

Because the people you trust the most are the people who will break your heart.

Because the one person you want to talk to is far away.

Because that one person has no idea how you feel.

Because only one voice can sooth your burning soul.

Because it’s not your fault that the world is crashing around you.

Because now you have to be your strongest.

Because this too shall pass…..

The Connection

R M Drake

The Search                                                The Search…(Part 2)

The Gaze                                                   The Gaze…(Part 2)

Have We Met Before?                             Have We Met Before? (Part 2)

The Answer                                              The Answer…(Part 2)

He was surprised at how easily he was able to talk to her. He had kept himself locked up inside a shell for as long as he could remember. But today it seemed like that shell had broken and he was finally free.

He had no idea where the night went. There were traces of memory when his friends left, equally surprised at his behaviour. All he knew was he had no need for more alcohol that night. He was far too drunk on her energy. Her stories, her life, the carefree attitude she had and the way she made even the most mundane topic so lively.

He loved how her hands moved in gestures when she talked. There was passion inside her that made her eyes sparkle.

Yes, she was different. There was something very extraordinary about her that he couldn’t explain. And that made him even more curious about her. They talked late into the night. It seemed so easy to talk to this stranger. But after 5 hours of non stop talking it didn’t feel strange anymore.

Something connected and he was hell bent to make sure this connection didn’t break.

Next morning he smiled while looking at his phone.

“We have to hang out again. Lets meet for  lunch.”, she had texted.

For the first time years, he looked forward to something other than work.

The Answer

The Search                                                The Search…(Part 2)

The Gaze                                                   The Gaze…(Part 2)

Have We Met Before?                             Have We Met Before? (Part 2)


For years he had been running away from emotions. From anything that could remotely make him fall in love. Love was not what he wanted. He had far too much darkness inside him. And nobody had ever dared to reach out for that. A darkness that was lost in simplicity, and yet was too complicated to be brought out in the open.

He had controlled every thought and every emotion in him.

But all this week, for the first time in years, he felt like he was losing control. And looking at her, standing in front of him, he understood why….

There was mischief in those eyes. And a flash of recognition. She didn’t look like all the other girls in this club who yearned attention. No. She was far too different from them. She had that look about her that was hard to explain. She appeared to be nonchalant but her drumming fingernails showed her restlessness.

“I’m sorry, but have we met before?”, she asked.

He had been mesmerized with her eyes and with this question he saw the fire in them. Fire, that pulled him like a moth towards it. Fiery and blazing.

“No”, He replied smiling. “But it seems like you recognize me.”


Have We Met before?

The Search

The Search…(Part 2)

The Gaze

The Gaze…(Part 2)

He wasn’t particularly fond of clubbing, but once in a while he went out with his old friends.They would meet and catch up over a couple of drinks.

His three best friends were the only people who understood him. They had come a long way together. From college where they chipped in money for tea, to this day when they were sitting in the classiest club of the city.

He really needed this break today. All week his mind had been playing tricks with him. He really needed to get those eye’s out of this mind. It was almost like he was losing control over his feelings. He couldn’t lose control. No. Not again. He had to divert himself from thinking about her.

He didn’t even know who she was. He had seen her just for a couple of minutes. And yet she had been in his thoughts all week. He was determined to let go of this infatuation.

But fate had other plans for him.

They had been sitting at the bar when he heard somebody come up next to him and place an order for drinks. A smooth voice. Deep, with a certain authority in it.  He wouldn’t have turned around if he hadn’t heard that drumming of nails. There was impatience in that drumming. He seemed to recognize this impatience.

He turned around and saw what he had been trying to run away from…

She was standing right next to him. Dark ebony hair framed her face that glowed from within. In this crowd she stood out. She was not like the many girls in this club. There was something mysteriously enchanting about her. She was like the ocean. Pretty enough on the surface, but you had to dive down to it’s depth’s to see what treasures it held.

He would have kept silently staring at her if she hadn’t turned her head his way.

Her eye’s met his and for a moment he saw a spark of recognition in them. Eye’s that he could stare into for infinity. He could see a smile playing on her lips, and before he could say anything, he heard her ask, “I’m sorry, but have we met before?”


Thank God For Technology

My phone is one of my most prized possession. It’s almost as important to me as my kidneys! No kidding…if I lose sight of my phone for even a second, I get a mini heart attack!

I need to be around my phone all the time. Even if I’m not using it. And I’m pretty sure that most of the people these days are like me. And it’s really not our fault is it??

I can call, text, whats app, Skype, mail, listen to music, click pictures, calculate, online shop, find my way home, play games and do such insane amount of stuff that it’s almost magical!

I mean today with this small device in my hand, I can talk to my friend who lives in California, at 2 in the morning when the insomniac in me refuses to go to sleep. Had technology not been this advanced, I would be writing letters to her that would reach her 20 days after I posted them. And if you know anything about the Indian postal system then you won’t be surprised if the letter never reached her. Ever.

It’s true that when technology had not taken over, people were actually connected to each other because they made an effort to stay in touch, unlike today where we have 300 friends on Facebook but we are really just bothered about our 3 best friends. I mean I’v got half of my high school people on my friend list on Facebook  but I never actually talk to them. It’s mostly about checking whats up in their life, from a distance.

I sometimes wonder how people used to write such long letters to each other. Writing about each detail of their lives. My uncle who is in the army travels a lot. So in the early days of his marriage he and my aunt used to write to each other a letter every week, telling each other everything that was going on in their lives. My aunt still has has a bag full of those letters.

It’s hard to understand the emotions people had when they wrote those letters. We have video calling if we miss somebody too much. In those days waiting for that one letter must have been the highlight of the week!

I guess that’s the reason people of that generation were far more patient. Our generation barely has the time or the courtesy to write an entire sentence in a text message. It’s mostly like “Hw r u? Txt me whn u rch home. Need 2 tok.”

You really can’t expect anything even remotely related to patience from people who write like this! I mean your parents spent a fortune on your education! And this is how you end up writing? Even the word ‘Love’ has become ‘Luv’. And I swear I have a pet peeve of this word. Every time somebody texts me “Luv”, I feel like punching that person in the face. It’s a four letter word for crying out loud! How much time did you save by making it three lettered!

Yes I love my phone with all my heart. And I don’t think I can live without it. But sometimes I really wonder whether this technology has actually connected us to our loved ones or turned us into insensitive stalking idiots who can talk for hours on whats app but have nothing to say to each other when they meet in person.

As for me, I’m enjoying the best of both worlds! I write a letter to my brother at least once a year and then whats app him to tell me when it reaches him.  And yes, everybody thinks I’m crazy writing to him when I could have easily texted him! It’s hard to explain to people how much fun it is to write a letter and then actually post it.

Years back I saw a movie where the actress wrote a love letter and instead of signing her name at the end, she kissed the letter and left a lipstick mark at the end. I so want to do this someday. I’l maybe write a letter to my husband and leave a crimson lipstick mark at the end. How romantic would that be!

I can always send flying kisses via Face-time, but lipstick marks will all ways be the real deal when it comes to romance.

Isn’t it?

I agree it’s fascinating to be able to talk ‘Face to Face’ with somebody sitting in 10,000 miles away from you via video call but I would still love to send a pigeon with a rolled parchment declaring my undying love to my beloved!


It’s All In The Eye’s

There was something insanely attractive about those eye’s. Deep brown and magically hypnotic. They could suck out your soul by just gazing at you.

They say that eye’s are the window to your soul. But in those eye’s you could see every possible emotion that you have ever felt held together with such depth that it was like staring into the universe. Mysterious and infinite. They mirrored every feeling you had and you could see every inner conflict that raged between your heart and your mind.

Eye’s which you could stare into for infinity and beyond and still not feel satiated. And if they looked away, something inside you snapped. Like looking into them was the only thing that gave meaning to your presence in this universe. And if it wasn’t for those eye’s, nothing would seem right.

Eye’s that pull you towards them, and with a blink could shatter you into a million pieces.

And it is then that you realize how fragile your existence had been before their gaze had fallen upon you. And with that gaze, the universe now feels complete.

That Feeling Called Love

She dabbed some more concealer on the scar. She was good with makeup. Nobody could tell that beneath this layer of expensive makeup were marks that had shattered her. These scars would fade away with time. But the pain that they bought would take a lifetime to leave her heart.

A sprinkle of her favorite perfume and she was ready.

She looked at herself in the long mirror. Dark blue kurta with an embroidered neckline. White churidar and dupatta. Silver bangles jingling at her wrists. She completed the look with her favorite antique jhumka’s that belonged to her grandmother.

She smiled at her reflection. She knew Indian wear suited her. And today after a long time, she had made an effort to look good.

Grabbing her purse, she went down to her car, instructing her driver to take her to this fancy new restaurant where she was to meet him today.

Sitting back, she couldn’t help but remember that day. No matter how much she tried to wipe off every trace of those memories, her mind always went back there. To that day.

They had met through common friends. Both young and in love. He was the perfect guy to her. Moody sometimes, she always thought that was a personality trait. That was just how he was.

He always checked her phone. Going through every text message and the day’s call history. Every message was questioned and every call detail asked.

This was his daily routine. He checked her phone, went through her mails, and never allowed her to meet anybody else. Forget about guys, even her girlfriends were scrutinized by him.

She believed she was madly in love with him and would have died happily for him. And he almost killed her.

Emotional blackmail was an everyday routine. He brainwashed her to an extent that every friend and family seemed like an enemy.

She loved him with all his heart and believed that he was the one for her.

They could have had a fairytale life according to her, if only he was not this possessive. She got scared when he screamed at her. He broke her phone twice in fits of anger.

She would ball up in a corner and cry herself to sleep, praying all the time that he would calm down.

“He loves me, he loves me, he loves me….”.

She would keep saying that to herself whenever he apologized to her after hours of screaming and abusing her.  And when he apologized, he became the angel she had fallen in love with. He showered her with kisses and gifts and seemed like he was genuinely sorry for what he did.

She would forgive him every single time.

Initially it happened once or twice. But soon, the screaming and abusing became an everyday matter. She walked around the house like a zombie. Scared to even breathe. Worrying all the time to not do something that would upset him.

Work was solace for her. A tiny voice inside her always told her that his behavior was wrong but she never found the courage to talk to him about it. This was just how he was. Maybe she was not able to show him how much she loved him.

She spent endless days and nights trying to figure out how to make him understand that she loved him and never wanted him to be angry.

But everything failed. Day after day the verbal abuses and the taunts continued. And with time they seemed to increase. It was like he had a spilt personality. Sometimes he showered her with so much love that she felt overwhelmed. But when he was angry, there was nothing she could do but just keep her head down and let him vent out his fury.

She had signed up for a new project. It meant a new team and more challenging work. She was shifted to a new branch office and was pleasantly surprised when she heard someone greet her in a voice that was vaguely familiar. She turned around and saw her best friend from high school. Tanmay. They had lost contact when they went to different colleges.

Today, after 6 years, he still looked the same. The same infectious smile, same tousled hair, and the same cheerful nature.

And it took him just one look to realize that something was not right with her.

She didn’t smile that freely anymore and rarely talked. This girl was the fun factor of any party. And now it seemed like that spark had died somewhere.

It took almost two weeks for him to have an actual conversation with her. It seemed like she avoided anyone who tried to be friendly with her. She worked hard. Concentrating on every detail of the project. But she rarely mingled with anybody.

Getting her number was an even tougher task. But never gave up on her. He kept trying until finally she started coming out of her shell. She started talking. Not like she used to, but at least she talked.

From coffee breaks to lunch to a text message once in a while.  Slowly she started smiling more often and talked more.

She enjoyed his company. He was always happy, and cheerful. She realized how much she had missed him. She liked working with him and felt good when he noticed how she had taken care of every small detail of this project.

The workload had increased way too much and the deadline for the project was soon approaching. That day, she got late at work and by the time she finished, it was way too late to find a cab back home. She called him up but he didn’t answer. That was enough to tell her that he was furious. She had missed a few of his calls a couple of hours back. She would have to explain to him that she was in a meeting.

One of her colleague offered to drop her home. She knew he would be furious, by this but them she had no other choice. She wanted him to pick her up but he was not answering his phone.

She saw standing on the porch. She felt her heart sink at the very sight of him. He smiled at her colleague and thanked him for dropping her home. But she could tell that he was way beyond angry.

When the car pulled out of their driveway, he grabbed her arm and dragged her inside the house and slapped her so hard, she felt blood in her mouth.

She fell on the floor and before she could react, he picked up a flower vase and aimed it at her face. It smashed against her head. And all she remembered was seeing blood.

That knock was probably what was required to bring her back to her senses.

She did not deserve this. This abusing and screaming. This was not love. This was freak control. She was just a punching bag for him.

He kicked her hard in the ribs and left her squirming in pain.

When he went upstairs, she tried to stand up, only to fall back again for the pain seemed to intensify with every movement.  She dragged herself toward her phone and with every scrap of courage that was left in her, called the police.

They found her 42 minutes later, bleeding and crying. She was curled up in a fetal position. 42 minutes. Every second of these 42 minutes had felt like a lifetime to her. They went upstairs and dragged him down. He hurled abuses at her and promised to come back and kill her.

The police dragging him away was probably the best balm for her wounds. She had suffered enough. She let out a sigh and went to the hospital in the ambulance that was waiting for her. She could finally breathe again.

She was jerked back to reality as the car stopped outside the restaurant. She gathered her wits and stepped out of the car.

It had been 8 months since that day. It was time to move on.

As she walked inside, she was ushered to the table where Tanmay was waiting for her. The look he gave when he saw her gave her butterflies in the stomach. She saw him give her a long appreciative look. And when their eyes met, the depth in his eyes made her realize, that this was what love really felt like.

Let’s Stop Over Thinking

We all think about stuff. Everyday tasks, our future, our crush, our miserable love life(OK, that’s probably just me). But I know and have seen people who can think on and on over the same thing and just not stop. And most of the time’s the problem they are pondering over isn’t even worth the effort.

Believe me I know people who can think about a stupid thing for ages and not come up with a solution, only to re think all that again and end grumbling about being stressed out. And when I look at such people I’m like “Whaaaaat!!”

I’m one of those people who would just not a give a damn to most of the things in this world. I would rather just chill and let things be. Yes, I sometimes get nervous and tensed about stuff, but that happens when the problem involved in actually pretty serious, like my career or my exams and stuff like that.

But people who over think about stuff like their clothes, or some co-worker or and random thing are beyond my understanding. Take my sister for instance. When we go out somewhere, she would get dressed and ask all of us like a million times(I’m not exaggerating this, she actually asks us a million times) as to whether her shoe’s match her dress, of is she looking too thin in the outfit(She is way too skinny and sometimes some clothes just make her look like a stick figure) or if her hair are looking fine.

After giving answers to her million questions, when you are ready to bang your head on the wall, she goes back to her room only to come out in a completely different outfit. That is when you literally want to just jump off the balcony before she starts asking you about this whole new look of her.

I sometimes wonder why people think so much. Like this one friend of mine who goes crazy when he has to ask a girl out on a date. “Should I ask her where she want’s to go”, “Would she like my wearing his shirt”, “Would her parents like me if we continued dating”, “I wonder how her family is”, “Maybe I should just ask her for coffee”, “Coffee during lunch hour or after work”, “Should I ask her her views and thoughts on long term relationships and marriage”…..


And when he finally asks the girl out, he probably freaks the girl out because his relationships have barely survived for more than a month. He has a string of failed relationships just because he just keeps thinking and thinking and thinking.

The problem with most people is that they keep thinking and planning their life. They just literally waste their time in trying to plan their life perfectly while life just happens in the background for them.

Sometimes it’s just good to not think anything and plan absolutely nothing for you or anybody around you. Just let things be and leave everything to destiny.

In the Indian culture, it is believed that everything that is going to happen in your life is already decided by god the moment you are born. Something like destiny. So everything is already decided. For example if it’s written in your destiny that you are going to marry some person then you will marry that person. And no matter how much you love somebody and want to marry him, but your destiny says that you are supposed to marry somebody else, then you can not marry your beloved, no matter how hard you try.

Oh! And this destiny thing works for your career too. Like my dad always say’s that he was born to be an engineer but destined to be a chartered accountant. Confusing, I know.

So it’s like no matter how much I want to do something, I’l end up doing what’s written in my destiny.

It’s a twisted concept but I’m cool with it as long as it keeps me from stressing from stupid stuff. But when it come in the way of my doing something, I just brush it aside. 😛

I’m the kind of person who never bother’s about stuff and just uses her brains for the bare essential and crucial things in life. And I find it pretty satisfying. It’s a relaxed life with minimum chances of my dying of diseases caused by stress.

I don’t know how this post is going to help anybody else, but maybe just try and not over think stuff. It is possible that the one thing you are stressing about so much ends up going away from you because you were too busy planning and plotting and thinking about it when it came to you.



Letting Go

I’m way too lazy when it comes to cleaning my room. It’s an annual task for me that happens every year just before Diwali. But this year, I had to clean up my room a little earlier because I’m giving away my study table.

Now my study table is not any ordinary table. It was a giant office table that was kept in my dad’s cabin. Glass top with four drawers on it’s right side. So when the office was renovated, I took the table home and made it my study table.

Now that table had to cut to half its size because it was way too huge to be kept in my room. And so it was modified a bit to fit into my room.  That happened a decade back.

A couple of days back, I cleaned the table and it’s drawers for what seemed like the first time in year’s. And in those drawers I found stuff that I had forgotten I still had. Old notebooks, notes that I passed in class with my friends in school, my 12 grade identity card, old CD’s, and the best of all, my old diaries. I never kept diaries regularly but whenever I felt angry, I used to write down my feelings.

In those diaries I found all my pent up anger safely locked away from the world. The diaries dated back to May 1997, when I would have been in maybe fourth or fifth grade. The pages at that time read “I had a terrible day today. Mummy scolded me for spilling milk on the dinning table.” 

That was probably the worst thing that happened to me at that age. Getting a scolding from my mom. As the pages turned and the years passed, I saw how my problem changed from bad grades to fights with my friends. Anger over a lost basketball match to missing the practice due to a sprained foot. In seventh grade I hated people in my class who today are my friends that stood by me when I was the weakest and were the first to celebrate when I was successful. In the eighth grade I had actually written down practical jokes that I wanted to play on those people. 

By the time I reached twelfth grade, the tensions were about college, and after school about the various career options and missing friends who went away to some other state for their graduation.

I spent the entire night going through the past 12 years of my life. Laughing and crying over the things that happened with me. The thoughts and pranks my mind made up. The tensions that changed from lost crayons to lost friends. 

Before this, I always thought that I lived a pretty boring life, with nothing extra ordinary happening to me. But when I read the eighteen diaries that I had written, I realized how much had actually happened in my life!

All the anger which at time I felt justified, seemed silly. And I had been pretty abusive in some pages! I’m just glad I abused my diary and not the people concerned! 😛 

When I finally finished, I did what I had never though I would do. I tore up all my diaries and threw them away. 

I had always kept my diaries safe and hidden, but that day I realized it was not the diaries I was hiding, it was my anger. While reading whatever I had written, I remembered all the good things that happened to me with all the incidents mentioned. And I believe that is all I need in my life. The good memories that make me smile when I went in flashback. 

It did hurt when I tore my first diary, but then I just had to let go of all the anger that I had stored in those pages. The past decade has given me possibly the best people in my life and in those diaries, I was listing down all the things I hated in them. These people are today the best of my friends and I would not change a damn hair on them! They are perfect and I love them with all my heart and soul and thank them for being there with me while I was being such a nut case!

The diaries are now down in the trash and all my anger goes along them, and all the beautiful memories that they bought back are safely in my heart.

The table is now going to somebody else. It was a big part of my life. I was so proud of it! I mean seriously, who has a study table as big as an office desk of a CEO!!! I’m sure a lot of memories would be stored in this table again. I just hope they are happy ones. 🙂