Win

Girl: I am sorry, but I don’t feel the same love anymore.

Boy: I know. I just want you back.

Girl: I need some time. You know na first time it took me three years.

Boy: (aghast but laughing)

Girl: (laughs) not that I am saying I am going to take another three years. But you know what I mean.

Boy: Yeah baby, I know what you mean.

When reality is better than fiction

There was a time when mom actually yelled at me everytime I used to start a new book. I always had a book in my hand and couple of those Papa got from the Naval Central Library. At that time I could read almost anything and at a good speed losing myself in the world.
The fiction world seemed surreal and I learnt a lot from the characters, the situations and above all the words craftily spun into mystic sentences by the authors.

2007 – that year changed me completely and most of you almost know by now why as most of my posts are related to that one incidence. Why my posts have a similar underlying theme is because on 10 October 2007 this blog was started as an outlet for all the congested emotions that were building up in my heart like a bacteria for too long. This blog was a vent for them. That’s why I chose to wrote under the pseudonym - Fruity – a tribute to salute the effervesence and the undying spirit of a bubbly girl called Mehak who did die in 2007.

During 2006, I had started reading three books (I was in a habit to read multiple books simulataneously) – Life of Pi, Shantaram and The Fountainhead. I had borrowed these from my cousin and friends. While I was packing my stuff before making a big move to New Zealand, I bought the copies of the books so that I could read these.

Circa 2009, the books were still wrapped in their covers, eating dust in the tall boy while I concentrated on writing about my in built emotions. I felt like a prisoner of depression for three years. I felt sad, alone and overall pissed off at these books which most of the times had happy endings. The real characters of people, the real life situations and above all the words craftily said by these people took precedence and nipped my heart several times.

This was the time when reality started looking better than fiction and educated me a lot too.

Its been three years, I have met people who have lost their parents when they were kids or have not even seen their parents. I have met people who have been alone fighting through a disease. I have met people who don’t have fancy things as I do.
I have consoled other people a million times, given them hope and let them smile when I smiled. I know for some people my smile is the reason for their smile. I have written on other blog posts about my own experience and how god is always there. I read the nice little review by her too that made me reminisce about the old times. Trust me there is no better therapy then self therapy.

I have started to forgive myself, I have started to forgive him for ditching that night and not waiting till morning, I have forgiven myself for letting that effervescent girl die a silent death.

11 March 2010, precisely 4 days post the third death anniversary, I picked the book, cleaned the dust using my sleeve and took off the cover and devoured it to let the young girl feed on the characters and words. The Fountainhead is back!

Its almost time when I have outcomed the dark insipid space and taken over to renew the lease of this life! I am going to nurture every bit of it. I am going to do things that I stopped three years ago. I am going to think about me. I am going to read the fiction to face the harsh reality with a new outlook and new take on life! I have finally succeeded to beat the depression. I am a winner in my own right.

Callousness and Me

I have seen people cry and depressed just because someone else said some thing really mean or nasty to them.  I have been at a stage where a mere higher raise of noise would bring make my eyes brimming with tears. But now the Mehak I am I hardly feel anything.

 The Pune bomb blast scared the hell out of me. It was around 4am NZT and I read about it on twitter. MrShri tweeted about it. That did make me sad. I was alone that time studying and felt I needed a hug to calm me. I was so scared.

But then things that people (read family or friends) say they do nothing to me now. I have just become so callous. I don’t care who said what/ who didn’t do what/who did do what. I am loving my callousness. Hurt is not felt after a point is reached where the body and mind endured endless hurt that you could never imagine. Be it someone saying nasty and gory things right onto your face or losing your parent.

Pain subsidizes in a while and something else takes its place. A hard hitting feeling where your heart is protected by a thick glass shield. The interiors of heart do not listen or care what is being said and when its not taken inside its thrown right back at the distant person. The callousness is indeed my strongest weapon now.

Only fear being what if the heart becomes resistant to the ones that *I* love. Will it hurt me if they are hurt? Will it pain if they say something to me?

I have stopped caring just about so many things in life. I just listen to what is happening and forget about it the minute the sentence is finished. I don’t care simply ’cause I have learnt to become selfish.

I have learnt that keeping yourself happy is a duty you owe to god and most important yourself!

I have learnt that if you are really sad about something do not make others sad by constantly talking about it. If you are sad for your one child do not become sad during the happiness of the other child. He/she doesn’t deserves it.

I have learnt that no matter how much tears you shed or no matter how much attention you attach to certain people’s perspective they are just not worth it!

I have learnt to say I am fine and stopped my tears coming out from the contours of my eyes and learnt to dry my wet lashes.

My smile is my camouflage and it hides my vulnerable side to the world.

I can proudly say come on – I am ready for brickbats and meanness and nasty-ness.

I am prepared. I have arrived.

महसूस

कई बार ऐसा हुआ है उसे मैंने महसूस किया है

आँखों का भ्रम कहो या मन का धुंदला विश्वास

कई बार उसने मेरे कंधो पे हाथ रखा है

जब भी पलट कर देखा वो धुंदला नज़र आया है

कई बार ऐसा हुआ है उसे मैंने महसूस किया है

उसने आँखों की सुजन को भी पढ़ा है

पहली बूँद जो टपकी झट से उसने  उठाया है

जब भी दूसरी बूँद टपकी मैंने उसे पिया है

कई बार ऐसा हुआ है उसे मैंने महसूस किया है

उसने मेरे उलझे बालों को सहलाया है

पहली लट जो उडी थी कानो के पीछे उसने घुमाया है

दूसरी लट जो उडी थी आँखों को उन्होंने चुभाया है

कई बार ऐसा हुआ है उसे मैंने महसूस किया है

Cheated

Cheated

Gyanji were looking at her. She was quiet and unusual. She didn’t get him tea this morning. He was worried, he shook her fragile shoulders. She didn’t reply.
54 years and now this deal was broken. He felt angry and betrayed. He felt cheated.

Indian sojourn – a quick glance

I am back…back to the shimmery Auckland grind! From 8 degrees of winter sweetness to 16 degress of summer madness.
These 5 weeeks were full of excitement and lots of cuddling by parents and hogging on Indian food.

Favourite activity – savouring piping hot jalebis in Bengali Market and enjoying the homemade golgappes.

The family took a trip to freezing Manali and enjoyed the hospitable stay there.

Two days stint gave us enough flava of the Mumbai nagariya. Attended my first ever Catholic wedding and enjoyed the scrumptious junk food at the chowpatty. Wore a lehenga to the wedding and looked different in Indian attire.

Divine intervention took place with one day trip to holy Tijara (Rajasthan).

Spoke to long lost friends and met these crazy people too.

Raided the Great India Palace and Centrestage Mall at the amazing as ever Sector-18 market in Noida.

Got mehendi done after two years.

Ate laal ber and gooseberries and McVeggie never tasted better before!

Chinese at Swagath (Def Col) left me craving for more of Indian dashed Chinese cuisine.

Metro has made commuting in Delhi oh-so easier! Wish it remains as neat and clean as it is now and always.

Spoke to blog buddy – Sakhi.

Stretched my hair at the tortoise pace of bank’s paper work.

Enjoyed the warmth of mom in heavy razais (quilt) while eating peanuts and gazzaks.

Had BBQ with family and celebrated New Year’s eve.

Saw 3 Idiots & Avatar and loved them to the hilt!

Had an emotional farewell at the airport. There were tears and mixed emotions.

Emirates flight is great but the route was horrible.

I am still jetlagged.

I am back to work. Loaded!

Uni has started and assignments are given already!

Waah re life!

PS Blogosphere please give a big shout and show some love to my best friend Kanika who has just made her debut on WP. Check her out at http://kanikasapra.wordpress.com

PS1 Vishesh your tag will be done way before you get your dentures..