10:07 AM, In Flights of Fantasy

It’s like a spectrum.

On one side, I see a family- loving, cooperative, cohabiting in peace, navigating life together the best way they can. I can feel the warm glow of companionship spilling over from my imagination into my consciousness, filling me with longing for a fantasy in my head.

I don’t like that feeling- of longing for something that never was. I call myself silly and plow into reality, barrelling down the spectrum to its other end- into the comfortable embrace of fear.

What do I fear?

I fear to trust somebody enough to get into a relationship. I fear to believe in a fellow human who is as fallible as I am. I fear to invest in a reality which can turn unpredictable and twist me ragged any second. Because nothing’s permanent, is it? Everything falls apart eventually. Everything dies. How can I depend on something as mortal as mortality?

It’s a faulty thinking process; what is called, in parlance, maladaptive thinking.

“Depending on a fellow human will make me weak. After all, I can’t speak for their thoughts or actions or motivations. The only controls in my hand are mine. So, I trust only me. It makes no logical sense to trust or depend on what I can’t control, right.”

See, that’s maladaptive thinking. And a defence mechanism called controlling.

Either I control the variable or it doesn’t exist in my bubble. But, we can’t control people, can we? It’s not right- infringing into the personal space of others. So, people- this unpredictable variable called people- has no place in my world, in my well-insulated bubble.

But, why did my morning study session devolve into this long-winded psychobabble?

Apparently, I’m supposed to get married. Apparently, this is the age for it. But, I don’t feel ready.

My father asked a very valid question: When do you think you will be ready?

I had no answer. I don’t know when I’ll be ready because I don’t know when I’ll find the middle ground between the extremes of longing and fear.

And I don’t know who I should go to for advice… So, I wrote.




…You shatter the peace and challenge my fear
You calm the storm inside just so it can rage on
I want to feel you with me
By my side
On me, by my whim
In me, by my desire
No more lies tonight, not tonight, my love
Tonight we tell the truth that we never tell anymore
I’ll heal you with my voice
Comfort you with my heart beat
I’ll hold you close and love you with my mind
We were cold, we were heartless
We were selfish, we were scared
We were liars in the world, but never of the world
We laughed over our tears and pretended to never be hurt
We kept saying we were fine even while throwing ourselves into the abyss
We put up a facade for the world and bled in places it could never see
We danced to its tunes barefoot and played its games naked
Yes, let’s break that paradise down where we say we are happy and turn away to hide our tears
Where we cheat, lie and hide and hold each other at an arm’s distance.
Let’s break down the paradise that’s nothing more than an illusion
Carefully maintained by our fears, insecurities and tears.
To you and me, rulers of the old paradise, let there be no more rules
I’ll accept your truth just as I’ll accept your lie
I’ll accept all of you and everything of you
I’ll build this new paradise for you
For me
For that one day, when we escape…


He’s like me. I think that’s why I’m into him. That’s why I couldn’t get him off my mind. It nearly drove me crazy, you know; the desire to spend more time with him, to get to know him in and out. But, he’s like me. So of course, like I expected, he didn’t contact me for a week. He didn’t contact me until he wanted a shag.

That was okay with me. I knew when I replied to his message the first time, what I was getting myself into. A one-night stand, a little bit of fun keeping it a secret and that’s it. We weren’t looking for a relationship; neither of us.

In fact, I’m still not looking for a relationship. Heavens! That would be disastrous. My approach or obsession, if I may say, is of the more clinical type. I want to get under his skin and find out what makes him tick. I want to push him and pull him until he’s tired and I’m tired. I want to poke him until he bleeds and then, repeat that until he bleeds more.

Hmm…reading what I wrote might make you wonder if I hate myself. I don’t. I’m just fascinated with myself. Nothing greatly special about me; I guess I’m the easiest lab rat available to myself. It’s easy to put myself under the microscope rather than interact with humanity. But, this find- somebody like me! I could call it an obsession, but really, it should be narcissism.

However, since he’s like me- I know what’s going to happen. He will keep me on the hook, at his whims and fancies and one day, he’ll get bored of even that and he’ll forget my existence. So will I, of course, but, it might take a little effort from my side in this case. It won’t be as natural as it usually is.

It’s interesting being on the other side. My pride keeps getting rents and knitting itself back together. Yes, it’s all very chaotic, very messy and very, very interesting.



Why Aren’t You?

You useless person,

There are so many beautiful things here

Why aren’t you?


I don’t know who I’m talking to

A stranger in the future that I might miss

A friend in the present that I do miss

I don’t know who should be here;

Who am I talking to?


I go from place to place

Revelling in my own company

But, the beer I ordered feels alone

Without a companion on the other side

I roam from bookstore to bookstore

Losing myself among the bundles of old and new

Buying too much, thinking too little

Maybe you should have been here

To hold me back


I still don’t know who I am talking to

Who could give me company in a bar

Companionship in a bookstore

I’m talking maybe to that random stranger

Who one day may not be so random

Or so strange


Is it weird to wish to be alone?

But, sometimes miss humanity?

Is it weird to miss something there never was?

Is it weird to miss what might be?

My feelings seem to have gotten ahead of themselves

Popping up from a place that doesn’t yet,



You useless person

There’s so many beautiful things here…

Why aren’t you?


But it’d better if I ask

Who aren’t you?

Who are you?



09:32 PM, A Random Note To A Best Friend

There are always those people who’re the floats in your life.

You’re mine.

When life seems like it’s bent upon pushing me down and drowning me, I desperately clutch at you, hang on to you for dear life. Because I know you’ll let me. Because I know you care. Because I know I matter in your life.

As of today.

Soon, a time will come when you’ll be gone too. You’ll get married, you’ll have a husband, kids, an entire family that doesn’t involve me; that is more important than me.

I know that time will be upon us soon.

Until then, accept these random messages I send you, the miss you’s and love you’s and the forever and ever’s. Until that moment comes, let me cling on to you when life throws me to the waves. Until that fateful time when I’ll lose you, let me cherish every moment I get to be important to you.

Until then, my friend, I love you; I miss you; and I expect you to answer my call.



08:39 AM, Me and My Blank Sheet of Paper

Sometimes I stare at a blank sheet of paper like I’m waiting for it to tell me something; as if it’s holding secrets and if I look at it long enough and hard enough, it’ll give up those secrets.

Sometimes, it does. Most of the times, I appreciate the potential that it holds and then, close the window. Or book.

The thing is, usually when I do this, rather than looking for something to write about, it’s because I’m being overwhelmed by the thoughts inside my head. There are so many of them, running around, hopping and jumping about, pulling things out of their places, turning everything upside down; and I don’t know how to stop them. So, I stare at this blank sheet of paper and wait for clarity; if not complete clarity, then at least some, so I can put things into order again and make sense of it all.

Imagine yourself knitting with the cat playing around your chair, and before you know it, your wool’s all tangled up and your cat is trying to pull itself free. That’s how it is- I’m the cat and my thoughts are the wool, tangled and suffocating. When I look at the blank sheet of paper, which holds nothing but the hint of possibilities, it calms me; because here is a place that’s empty, that has no direction or correction, no right, wrong or reason, nothing but an easy placidity that I can breathe in. It calms me.

It helps me regain some order in my brain- lock up the boxes that were opened, cover up the corners exposed and forget things I’m supposed to have forgotten. In the process of setting things right, sometimes, I use that paper to write. Most of those writings never see the light of day because they’re just words put on paper as they spill out. A lot of those sentences are long, run on, end in question marks and don’t make complete sense to anyone except me. A lot of it is incomplete because I finish it in my head while something else is pushing for expulsion. It’s messy and soon, it’ll end up crumpled up in the dust bin or the recycle bin. But, it’s done its job. It’s released some of the pressure and that helps.

The times when I don’t write however, I just stare. I keep staring at that piece of paper like it’s my salvation. And it is. Because after some time, I can open a fresh sheet of paper which hasn’t yet been stained by the sight of my desperate eyes and put my thoughts down, in a way that makes sense- to me and maybe even to you.

And so, I can breathe again. I can take on the world again. I can hide my insecurities again without the tag showing. I can be perfect again.


Is Anyone There?

The desert spreads out in front of me

Grains of sand in my shoes, in my eyes

Lodged in my hair, scratching past my throat

Am I alone? Am I alone? I ask the wind

It blows by quickly, in a zephyr, leaving me stranded



Is there no one? Is there not one other person?

I’m begging the sun, my eyes dry

Tears having evaporated a long time ago

Am I alone? Am I really all alone?


I breathe, and I breathe

I try to pick that scent, that human perfume

Maybe it’s wafting by here, towards the horizon

Or there, by that sand dune

I look around wildly, searching for him, her, any one

It’s my imagination. It’s all my imagination


There’s nobody here, the sky mocks my pleas

As it beats me down, holds me down

My ears to the sand, waiting for respite

For the sound of voice, maybe a song, just a whistle

Fine grains fill up their insides and no sound passes through

I clean them every other night…worried

Scared I’ll miss that sound when it comes

Now? What was that? A call? My name?

I’m hallucinating, hallucinating…


No one knows my name

No one knows I’m here

Alone…alone…I’m alone


The desert spreads out in front of me

Is anyone there? I howl at the moon

No one…no one… the wind whispers in my ear

As it passes by

And leaves me alone too.