Nostalgia.

Nostalgia is a bitch they say. I never understood what that meant until we stopped being who we were and became who we are right now. We are still us, the same people alright. But it doesn’t feel like the times are the same, obviously because things changed. But what things? Because I don’t remember there ever being a ‘thing’. Well, not anything that we acknowledged of course. You know what’s weird though, that nostalgia hits every single night, every damn sundown. And yeah, it does hurt like a bitch.

Remember the little game the PE teacher made us play back in school where we had to take a step forward for every ‘Yes’ to his questions? Yeah, I think that was our game. The only difference being that we weren’t in the same line like back in the day, we were at opposite ends of the court. We asked the questions, we answered the questions and we took the steps too. I guess I just didn’t realise the moment when I stopped asking them and just stayed in the game for you, but apparently you played by the rules only skipping the one that said you couldn’t skip mine.

Of course I do not understand, I never do to be honest. It’s funny, it doesn’t even make me mad anymore. I wasn’t even surprised when I realised I was halfway past the court by the time I saw that I had no audience, not even you. The game had ended, just like that, broken rules and well not broken but a slightly dented heart. So what are the rules now? Because I never made them, I only played to your tune. I told you I do not like games, half because I do not understand them and the other obvious half being that I somehow always lose.

I remember watching the sun go down together, swaying legs and beating hearts, we were never great talkers. Contrary to Harry’s beliefs, comfortable silence is so not over-rated. I liked the quiet with you, I liked that you just held my hand and didn’t kiss me when the sun went down. Kisses really weren’t our thing either, we were weird that way. Kindred spirits I called us, because we definitely weren’t soulmates. You didn’t understand my words, you said they weren’t made for you but you know what you said after though? You said you only listened to them because maybe I was made for you. You fucking bastard, always with the charm.

I’m still smiling writing this, I’m not mad and that kind of makes me mad if it makes any sense. I thought you meant something to me, that I owed you that sense of  togetherness. But turns out that I couldn’t have been more mistaken, you were okay on your own. You weren’t going to be my next charity case, and I definitely didn’t need one since I wished I could be someone’s myself. Even the thought of you makes me restless, only because I thought I’d let myself go again. I’m so glad I stayed sane, and I’m so glad you were way above my usual crazy dominoes. I call them dominoes because they always end up face down, never disappoint – not once.

I don’t think it’s you that I miss, I think it’s the way it felt to have what we had. I don’t know how it feels to you, specially with changed priorities but I feel a sense of emptiness. There is a space. Don’t get me wrong though, it isn’t uncomfortable or anything, it’s just very noticeable. My brain isn’t empty at the end of the day anymore, so many thoughts, so many many words. It’s hard to fall asleep knowing that you wouldn’t hold me for the same reasons, even if you did it would probably be because you were just too scared of a cold bed. It feels weird knowing that I’m probably not the last person you talk to anymore, definitely not the first person for sure.

You told me you had never been happier, I told you that it scared the hell out of me. You told me that you needed this, I told you that all I wanted to do was run away. You told me that I felt like home, I told you that it felt like a fucking storm. The day you knocked on my door at 3am, asking me if everything was alright; I swear to God I felt everything come crashing down. The irony of it all, our god-damned hearts. I hate your flannel shirts, I hate your stupid blue beads and I hate your stupid hugs that I never could resist. And you know what else I hate? I hate how you made me feel.

I let you in right at the time that you walked me out, I didn’t know and neither did you. I guess I lost my charm the day I held your hand before you held mine, you see, that was so not me and obviously you noticed. I watched you from across the table, smiling and talking just the same but your eyes wandered. It wasn’t other girls that caught your eye, it was just another life; a different future. You didn’t ask me if I’d written anything in my book anymore, you didn’t even tell me if you wrote anything in yours. I didn’t need to tell you the words that heartened me that day or the next or another, because I knew you didn’t care.

I’m not saying that you didn’t care about me anymore, because of course you did and you showed it too. You just didn’t care about us, the idea of us that you had planted yourself. You made extra effort, you brought home cake every Thursday, you tried almost too hard. The fact that even now I can’t just write a sentence and be done with it without going into an elaborate explanation just so you don’t misunderstand says a lot I think. We were never meant to be, just two lonely souls clinging to one another till the phase passed. It’s unfortunate though that yours passed sooner, and I’m still here trying to grab onto whatever little of it is left.

But you know what the hardest part of it all is? That it was all for nothing. My days are the same, actually better but the nights are just a little too long. You’re being so brave and pushing away, and you’re doing such a great job at it that’s it’s almost impossibly perfect. It’s not my Skype that rings when something is going on anymore, it’s just the door to your room that closes behind you. I still need to talk to you though, you don’t realize that and even if you do – you turn away. I don’t need you to be my wall, I need you to just let me be your shadow. I don’t need your cuddles anymore, because I sleep in your empty shirts these days.

You’ve let us slip too far, I let you do it but only after I tried clinging onto your shirt every damn night. But now I don’t feel the connection anymore either, honestly I’m starting to doubt if we ever even had one. Maybe all we had were your empty words, the castles you built in the air, making me its delusional princess. I am not going to give you peace by denying the hurt, I am not going to be a liar just because you thought it was okay to be one. I’m just going to let you go, just as easily as I let you in. That’s always been your specialty with me, hasn’t it? You get what you want, a little too easily. The room is empty once more, my bags are packed and unfortunately enough, so is my little heart.

Ball Rooms.

Six inch heels, high slits, red lips and champagne in hand – I stare out at the obnoxious luxury strewn all across the ballroom so vast. 

Everyone decked up in their best and at their finest, like an exhibition of absurdity, being seen – the only demand.

Glittering chandeliers hanging low from the ceiling, shimmering dresses cascading down perfectly etched curves of every woman’s body.

The heavy elegant drapes on the high windows, the crisp cuts and button ups on the men with their chin up high and engaged in big words.

I fit in here, my world, I don’t feel the slightest unfamiliarity. My impeccable style on display, my engaging eyes and my indifference to stares just in place.

The invisible bubble that kept everyone at bay, always pulled up, they could look all they want but could never step into my playing field.

It wasn’t a conscious choice, nor was it completely out of character of me. I was known to be aloof, probably part of the appeal.

I liked the distance, the liberty, the mystery that came with a life not shared but yet overbearingly noticeable to say the least.

I look down at my hands, noticing light smudges of ink from an afternoon spent writing out in the meadow complete with the best bitter brew.

So many characters to be watched, even better than the ones I caught out the window from my usual corner at the town’s coffee house.

Even the most uninspiring of people inspiring my best work, the ones with instant charisma eventually floundering into anonymity.

My secret life on paper never rivalling the one I lived every time I closed the pages and put my pen away, each as dear to me as the other.

Too many people had stepped in, many pushed away and some pulled out. I was just too much to stand up to for anyone with a sense of self.

Why settle for mere spectators or men with egos that demanded constant feeding? Why cater to lives lived behind lit screens, words spewed with no actual integrity?

A woman of such influence, a rarity but not the last of her kind. My time and attention valued at a lot more than the societal subtleties for sure.

I might lace your body with words, trace your thoughts in poetry but know for sure, it’ll only be a wager against the substance you aspire to offer.

I like being someone’s tragedy, suits me better than having one of my own. No one survives my fleeting thoughts, specially not the ones that don’t strive to hold my gaze.

Narcissism you call it? I call it human nature. When you find a precious ruby in a pile of blood soaked rags, would you just leave it behind for someone else to find?

The one who chooses to unsee the wealth lying in a gory mess just because the shine is brighter than his own – I call him a fool and nothing more.

I let people walk away, I say my goodbyes with written words. I hold the sole keys to both my body and my mind, the only gatekeeper forever and beyond.

I sip the bubbles and smile at the scripts being lived out all around, knowing that I’m atleast not living mine blindfolded like the rest.

A selfish act each time I step into such grandeur, silently measuring time and reassuring myself of the lack of my own ignominy.

Realisations dwell in such places, places that remind me of my own ideals and perspectives that are worth striving against, every second an experience and every sight an opinion.

Consider it my drug of choice, my drug of addiction but not a drug that I can’t fight against. Everything is a choice I can make and I make this mine every chance I get.

People and words, words and people – twirling and entangling into one another. The beauty, the intrigue and a source of epiphanies rivalled by none other.

I had a multi-colored DP yesterday. So what?

I live in India. I had a multi-colored DP yesterday. So why do people think they have a right to question that or make statements about it?

It happened in America, yes. America is not my country, right. I don’t have any friends who are benefitted directly from this, correct. (maybe not, I don’t know.) The only thing that mattered to me was that there were countless number of people whose lives changed forever yesterday. It made me happy that somebody’s life got easier and that someone could finally be and do what they want to. It was a victory of ‘Freedom’. Changing my dp, showing my support was the only way I could express myself. No one was pushing anyone to put up multi-colored DPs, Facebook didn’t make it a default for the day, it was a personal choice just like it was your’s not to do so.

So, stop dissing and be happy for other people, even if they are strangers who you’ll never probably meet, even if they are oceans away and are citizens of another country – what happened to ‘Humanity, solidarity & kinship’ that I am pretty sure you talk about? It was nothing but a show of faith, of support and that of exhilaration that the society was moving forward, cutting all the binding strings away. Yesterday it was America, tomorrow it’ll be India. How else do you expect the world to be liberal? Agreed that America is not the only place where LGBT rights need to be upheld, but it’s definitely a huge step.

Even though I don’t know them personally, I was so happy for all the youtubers that have made my each day brighter by just being themselves, sharing their lives and dreams with the whole world, I have watched them struggle with issues of gay-pride and yesterday, I knew it meant a whole lot to a lot of them. I couldn’t reach each one personally, they have affected my life in a positive way and it was something that would make their lives a whole lot better and that was what was so wonderful about it all. It brought together people from different countries, just supporting a cause that people have fought for and will continue to do so.

Facts and arguments aside, can’t we just be happy because someone else is happy? That is simple right? 🙂 It is absolutely okay for people to be happy because other people are happy. The hashtags ‘#LoveWins’ and ‘#CelebratePride’ just made me smile a whole lot more yesterday because I knew that somewhere there was someone whose longterm dream of a perfect wedding would come true. Just like you & me & everyone else, they would have dreamt of tying the knot with the person they love but the law held them back all this while and now they can officially be ‘Mr&Mr’ or ‘Mrs&Mrs’! 🙂 Can you imagine how much that would mean to someone who fought their own personal battles, everyday, big or small, to make it happen? 🙂 They finally have the right to something that they shouldn’t have had to fight for in the first place.

When something tragic happens, don’t we show our solidarity? 9/11, Nepal earthquakes, Sandyhook school shooting, executions in NK and all the other times we stood up for the others, then why is it questionable today especially when it’s a positive thing? If you think this is not something that matters, then you probably have been looking at the world with a deceptive filter. So c’mon, be Indian! One of the first lessons we all learn is to see everyone as one, all of humanity! So be happy that something good is happening in the other corner of the world because tomorrow it’ll be our turn. This change just opened a lot of gates, it’s an inspiration for everyone else. Do you think there aren’t any people in India who wish this to happen here? There are probably one too many!

There has been this joke flying around that ‘People are celebrating the legalization of gay marriages in America when in India guys are still fighting to marry the girl of their choice.’ Seriously guys, don’t you see that your joke is just validating the dire necessity of such changes, may it be in any part of the world? Everything is ‘eventual’, every change in this world ‘flows’. These kind of changes give hope to millions of others, people who are socially struggling to be accepted.

It isn’t just about gay-rights, it’s about breaking social norms that are hindering any individual from living a life that they want to. It is about ‘social evolution’. It is about the world being a happier place for everyone, irrespective of who they choose to be. So it’s okay if people want to do a small little deed like change their DPs, because maybe that is the least that they can do. It’s just an expression of being glad and happy, and that is acceptable right? 🙂

Take it light. If you find our DPs annoying then don’t look at them, don’t like them. But please don’t turn everything into a joke, & no its not “cool”. Anything that means something to someone cannot be a joke, ever. Everyone will laugh off the light hearted jokes with you, but the distasteful, ignorant rants that you guys have been liking & reposting – Not cool. If you can’t be happy for someone, then at least don’t be mean and silly. Just let it be. 🙂