Yes, you read that right, I want to fight, and suddenly start shouting maybe throw a pillow at your dumb, stupid face (yes, I would wanna say that out loud to you, even though you’re my prettiest boy).
Glasses, how?
Wait! Alexa, Alexa, Alexaaaaa, play ‘everybody loves somebody sometimes’ at volume 5.
अब ये मैं कैसे कहूँ?
I feel the pain that I am part of a generation that can read and speak but doesn’t write in Hindi anymore. This piece is my contribution and dedication to my beautiful mother tongue, Hindi.
The Best?
Milestones have often been provocative for me, more like nettling me lately with the whys, why-not, ifs, and what-ifs. Milestones who want to be crowned. These milestones are funnily nights. Why nights? I’d say, but I guess because it brings a sense of culmination. So, what I am made to look for essentially is the best night in the last 4 years, wait what? 4 years, a world cup!
After the Scars
And then nothing.
There’s fire, stars shining right above us, and two women enjoying their respective solitudes as Edith Piaf sings “…give your heart and soul to me and life will always be La vie en rose”.
How did I come to be?
Well! What is life if not a series of questions, waiting to be answered?
Were you a Liar?
My tired, dilapidated heart for the first time in unison with my mind shouted, YES!
Will you be my wine stain?
As children and then young adults we are often told time heals all, and it does. But the agency it uses to heal you is, so complex, and so nuanced that when the healing is done you almost feel betrayed by the simplicity of the sentence ‘time heals all’.
End of an era?
So the day you embark upon the journey into your 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, 60s find a way to revisit your life cumulatively.
Laugh at how stupid you were, reminisce the bad and ugly. And most importantly be proud, of the voyage to date.
Saturday Night
So of course if it wasn’t painful enough to be invited as a guest “friend”, now I was invited as a guest amongst his friends.
What should I watch next?
What if we are in our true essence none of the main characters?
Just my work to you?
I often mull over who I am to these people, I am just my work to them? Am I just the lady with a broom in her hand with an uncharacteristic life and questionable aura? Who are people like me to people like these?
Am I Funny?
I am generally a literature kind of girl, but I must deliver jokes to you. And what romance is to literature sex jokes are to comedy, what tragedy is to literature is Uber/Ola jokes to comedy, but I am a self-proclaimed writer as well. Hence, I must be original and separate myself from the herd.
May, 15th.
Is that perfect? Wait for what’s in my basket.