That.

Maybe we'll meet after 10 years, and you will be reminded of how beautiful we were together. Serene.

You will be reminded of how much you I cherished you, and your hair, among other things. I just hope you revisit your past and be reminded of all the things I think about every night before sleeping.

The times when you made me laugh so much that my stomach ached? That.
When I needed someone to vent and you were there, always? That.
When you told me it's okay to be me and love fashion, tennis and food so much? That.
When you made me believe I was beautiful? That.
When we kept going back to the boy and girl who had trouble written all over them? That.
When I was happy, in every sense of the word, all because of you? That.
When I would want to say something but used to end up saying random shit and you would totally get it? That.
The countless memories we made? Those.
When you were in a different city and broke down and chose to call me of all people and I could do nothing? That.
When you shouted at me after a bad match because you knew I didn't give enough? That.
When I wore white shoes with bright orange laces and you still didn't disown me? That.
When I told you that I want to spend all my evenings with you? That.
When you said you'd never give up on me (even after I got married to a rich dude with a Bentley)? That.
When you said you loved our curly hair? That.
Sandy? That.
When we tried to talk in funny accents and ended up falling off our chairs laughing? That.
When you became the only person I idolised, the only one who actually got me,  saw right through me? That.
When you said you'd never ever ever ever leave, but left anyway? That.

All that, and so much more. 

You are you.

Because you taught me it's okay to be me. Because you inspire me so much. Because I changed my blog's title for you. Because you taught me it's okay to wear whacky clothes. Because you taught me it's okay to have curly hair. Because you taught me it's okay to lose. Because you shouted at me when I was depressing myself over futile things. Because you also made up by singing random songs in a funny voice. Because I can't write more because I'm crying too much. Because you are special, and I miss you.
Because you are you. 

Come here.

Come here.
Caress my wounds.
Heal my wounded heart.
My sore body.
My tarnished soul.
Come here.
Save me.
Don't let the darkness engulf me.
Come here.
Keep me.
Don't replace me, it's not pretty.
Come here.
Find me.
Don't let my soul go wayward..stay with me.
Come here.
Don't lose me.
Give me directions.
Promise to be beside me.
Walk with me.
Run with me.
Sprint with me,
just always..stay with me.
Come here.
Listen to my bleeding heart.
I'm lost without you, you know it.
Come here, numb the pain.
Don't let me be caged. Set me free.
Come here....


Come here.
Save me.
Keep me.
Find me.
Don't lose me.
Walk with me.
Ignite me.
Love me. 

Masks.

Sometimes all you see is the glittering surface. The cracks are very intricately concealed. Each flaw, each imperfection is sealed with beauty. Everything that isn't perfect is hidden. Every little detail is taken care of. It's like make up, you can conceal all your wrinkles, the lines on your face and pigmentation, but what lies beneath all that is what YOU really are. 

Everyone wears a mask. 
Multiple, maybe. 
But none? Not possible.

However, in due course of time, there will be one person who from beneath hundreds of layers of perfection will dig out a human being. 
An imperfect, flawed, clumsy, forgetful, but a very beautiful human being, nonetheless. That person will accept you for who you are, without judging and they will be there. To hear you out. To let you cry. To listen to what you want to say. To make you feel...secure. 

And, when you find that person who can see right through all your fake masks and love you for who you are, you know you have achieved all there is to achieve.

The fine line between giving up and hanging in there.

Her ankle had never been under so much pain. This was a new kind of pain. She doesn't know how to describe it. Whatever the odds may be, she was determined to fight till the end. Her skin glistened with sweat, her blue Nike tshirt was as wet as it could get, her hair were neatly tied up in a ponytail and she wore a matching blue Adidas cap. Her physical state was in ruins. However, she was strong mentally, hopes were soaring high, the will to play was at a new level, and she was at peace. She gave it everything she could, but it was not enough. She was upset. But she swallowed her fears. She conquered them. She was raised to do so. She lost, but this wasn't failure. She was raised to be a strong-headed, strong willed and courageous girl. She was raised to win, even if it meant tackling defeat in the way. 

Idiots.

Idiots.
Idiots, they call us
Idiots for being us
Idiots for laughing away our problems, dancing away the pain

Idiots for singing out our sorrows
Not caring about the stress that follows
For falling asleep staring at the stars
Gazing into each other's eyes for hours

Idiots for the words we say
And the emotions we feel
Our quirky ways
And our methods to heal

Oh, Idiots they call  us
They create such a fuss
"Idiots", they say
"Laughing away their problems, dancing away the pain
Kissing away their miseries,
Dancing in the rain."

They laugh, they criticize
Never do they say anything nice
They hate, they ridicule
They never embrace, they condemn
But what the don't understand is that the joke is on them.

I don't want to feel confidence. I want to feel rage-all consuming rage

It was a bright sunny evening, two friends-the best of friends- and one of the friend's brother and cousin decided to step onto a tennis court. They wanted something fun to do in the evenings and tennis seemed perfect to their parents. Their parents decided to enroll all four of them in a tennis academy, the best in the city, that is. They picked up their junior rackets which their fathers had brought from Canada, Head Radical Junior, and entered the court. With two very understanding and helpful coaches they began playing. Both the coaches were very patient with the four of them, they explained every little detail that was required for a second grader to hit a tennis ball. They did not only make the kids hit balls, but they also made them do all kinds of stretches and fun-games, as they put it it, after all, they didn't want to push the kids. It was a tedious job for 3 of them..but one little girl decided this was what she wanted to continue doing for the rest of her life. No, she didn't aspire to be a professional, she just wanted to be able to play tennis till she was very old. She wanted to be able to experience the thrill of hitting a ball perfectly till she breathed her last.

This was 6 years ago.

It's still the same today. That little girl is now a teenager, and a budding tennis player. She still loves tennis. Loves it even more, probably more than anything she loves now. It's her passion. After all, she has sacrificed hang outs with friends, parties, late night-outs, movies just so that she gets a chance she loves to do the most- play tennis. The bestfriend, and the cousin decided to stop playing because they figured they didn't like it anymore, and studies took a toll. The brother decided his heart was in football, and came to a conclusion that he had wasted all this time playing tennis, when what he actually wanted to do was play football. The little girl stayed determined, determined to play each and every day. In the process, she injured her elbow, her ankle, her knees. Her ankle injury was so severe that her physio almost warned her to be careful otherwise she wouldn't be able to...well, play anymore. She hated herself for loving the game so much that it was affecting her physically, and emotionally.
She hadn't always been this serious about tennis. Some days, she just went to the academy just for the heck of it. There were times when she absolutely hated tennis, but hate requires passion, and there has been deep, undying passion, always. She hated tennis because there was a time, September 2011 that no matter how hard she trained, so matter how much she put in, her game wouldn't get any better. It would just get worse, as a matter of fact. So, she gave up. She gave up putting her soul. She gave up playing whole heartedly. She went to the academy, everyday, but just because she HAD to, not because she wanted to. It was very hard on her. And then came October'11. After a lot of mental counseling, ways to control anxiety, new techniques, new tactics..she started playing well again. The emotions she felt inside her could not be put into words. It was beautiful to fall in love with tennis all over again. She went on a winning streak, getting a Silver medal at the CBSE zonal meet, and a bronze at the National meet in Maharashtra. It gave her a new high. Winning a match didn't make her proud of herself, it just gave her a lot of motivation, it drove her to achieve more. Her parents have always been supportive of all her interest-be it art, tennis, or photography-but they have never let their children (she and her brother) be arrogant, or cocky. They have always taught them it is not necessary to be successful in life, but to be a good person. You could lose and be a good at heart, and that would be important. She knows that her mother wouldn't love her less if she smacked her racket after losing a point...but her mother wouldn't be proud to know that she did. It wouldn't be fair on her mother,really. After her coaches, it is her parents who are her inspiration. Even after achieving so much in their lives, they still believe in simple living and high thinking, and they have taught their children the same. It is important to soar high, but also to keep your feet firmly fixed on the ground. Words to live by.

She has never liked summers. Essentially, because it is very hot, and she loves the cold.
But the summer of 2012 has been different. She has woken up early each and every day of her summer break to train. To train her heart out, to take out all her frustration by playing well. It meant no late nights, not many hang outs, a lot of tan, so much sweat. A little blood, a lot of water, even more Gatorade.A little less of BBM and Facebook, and a little more of fitness. But, she didn't mind.
Who would mind not being able to have fun when they could do what the loved doing the most? Not her, most definitely.
And, undoubtedly, the Summer of 2012 has been the best, so far.

Being Number Two Sucks

Stupid. Me & I. We're stupid. Absolutely stupid.

I love the adrenaline, the butterflies in my tummy, oh God, how I love to win.
I live to train, hate to let my coaches down.. Tennis is my only religion, and practice my only prayer.
Soreness is my way of life. Injuries, oh take them in stride.
Oh, I'm stupid. Stupidly in love with tennis.

I'm a sucker.
A sucker for a good game, a ball hit dead perfect. Oh, I'd give up partying for hardcore fitness.
I love to see my opponent going down, however at the same time knowing the tables can turn after any shot, any volley, any serve. It's the beauty of the game, after all.
Oh, I'm a sucker. Sucker for the uncertainty of tennis. 

I'm an idiot.
An idiot because when I'm on court, I really can't figure out what's happening outside. The court is my temple.
I love my tan and how I'm always asked if I hate it(which I don't, its a part of who I am,now). I love how I feel after coming on court  after recovering from an injury, and how I'm at my best after it. I love how after 2 weeks of not playing because of severe injuries, the physio finally says, "You can now play."
Oh, I'm an idiot. An idiot to get lost in the violent action taking on place in an atmosphere of tranquility.

I'm a winner.
A winner because I will give each shot my best, serve the hardest serve, hit the most perfect ground-stroke, volley my best and smash the ball dead perfect. I love how I was always told I fall down 7 times, I will have to get up 8 times, and now I'm actually beginning to understand what it meant. I love how I have to give each molecule of my body to this beautiful beautiful game in order to expect something in return from it. I have to give this game each tiny bit of my soul.
Oh, I'm a winner. A winner because now my losses teach me more than my victories do.

But most of all, I'm a lover.
A lover of the swear, tears and blood shed. Lover of the injuries. Lover of the pain it brings. Lover of the exhaustion I face. Lover of sleeping late after completing school-work and then getting up early to train. Lover of the fact that I'm a proud student-athlete. Lover of  knowing I'm sore only because I gave 100 percent while practicing. Lover of physiotherapy. Lover of knowing that there is always a tennis session to look forward to. Lover of knowing that tennis is my reason to get up and work hard. Lover of knowing that this game, now, isn't only a sport, it's my passion. Lover of knowing that I want tennis more than anything I will ever want . Lover of knowing that tennis is an addiction I will never let go.
Oh, I'm a lover. A lover because playing tennis means its me...me against the world, battling it out, sweating through,

and winning. 

Change&endings

Change is the only thing that in constant in this ever changing world. Change is very hard to accept for some people, like me, while others are very comfortable even when they're forced to live outside their comfort zone. It's not like that with me. I hate change. Once I get used to my surroundings, I want them to stay the same forever, but then forever is a very strong word. Everything in this world changes-people,feelings,circumstances, ambitions, dreams, hopes, aspirations,tastes- you name it,nothing but change lasts forever. Pushing my boundaries and doing something that my comfort zone doesn't allow me to has always been a difficult task for me. I like to live in my own happy world, with my own happy people. I don't like unfamiliar faces, unfamiliar voices, unfamiliar, uncanny eyes, or unfamiliar places. I know I should change, for the better, but its like I'm so comfortable in my own skin. I like myself. I'm proud of what I am, but I really need to learn how to cope.

I've always hated endings,too. The ending of a movie,a book, a relationship, a memory, a trip. Reading the last chapter of a book, the last few minutes of a movie, the rush of emotions I feel when I know a particular friendship is coming to an end, the guilt I feel over a certain things, the really bad feeling that doesn't even allow me to enjoy the last day of a trip...It haunts me. Everything feels weird. The sad kind weird. I hate it,so much. It drains me out, emotionally. It's sad.

But nonetheless, change and endings are inevitable.

And I will have to cope with change and learn to say goodbye, someday. 

I think..

I like my food a bit too bland. I think people who honk are stupid. I think boys are stupid. I think The Mentalist is a pretty cool show. I love Pretty Little Liars. I think BBM's getting annoying now. I hate my ankles, they are so weak :| Teenagers might have a really short attention span, but we do remember what you said to us 4 years ago. I think I love trolling people. I think I don't trust easily now. I think I'm falling in love with tennis all over again. I think I love Indian Weddings. I also love good food, and Delhi. I really love to run. I also don't like AC's much. I love winters, and hate summers. I love people who smell good, and are hygienic. I love pedicures. I'm downright bitchy at times. I'm VERY rude if you provoke me. I'm a snobby bitch if you make me behave like that. But also, I'm very sweet to you if you're nice to me. I like people who have good conversation skills. I don't mind silence, but what I do mind is awkward conversations. I love, absolutely love Sheldon Cooper. I think people should stop bragging about how they're donating so much money to charity, charity stays in your hearts, people. I think my whole life can be defined by quotes. I really believe in 'YOLO', and 'Carpe Diem'. I think boys who write cheesy captions for their male friends are really weird. I think I do not like men(boys) who disrespect women(girls) I think doing drugs is highly uncool. I think I love romantic comedies. I don't believe in ruining my mood over someone who's not worth it anymore. I think 10 year old girls are not ready for relationships, they should just stick to Hannah Montana. I think people who are humble are great. I think kids with silly parents who don't respect money and don't think their children should don't  have the right to exist. I think I really REALLY want to do my bit, and open an NGO for sexually abused children. I really want to crack CLAT too. I also think I really appreciate texts that are spelled properly. I think blogs are pretty cool. I really want to be able to write all the time, you know? Beautiful things, somehow I can't. I think London really is my favourite city in the whole wide world. I think having a boyfriend is really overrated, enjoy your freedom,bitches! I think I use the word 'really' a lot, really. I think now I'm just gonna post this :)

Crappy writing. Read it anyway.

Do we get everything we deserve? Or let me put it this way, do we get everything we think we deserve? Does good always win? Does evil always lose? Does the power of goodness over evil prevail? I don't know. What I do know,though is life isn't fair. Of course not. It it was, the world would be a much much better place. But it's not. It's imperfect.

So, playing tennis isn't fair either. About 75 percent of children who play ranking tournaments are overage. It's a fact. All 16-17 year olds play tournaments meant for children and players under the age of 14. I mean, who are you kidding,people? What are you even getting by lying about your age? Just so that you can play more tournaments? It's amazing to see how children, and their parents are ready to stoop to a level so low. If you don't think you can play with children your age and you need to get your age in written records decreased, it's just sad,my friend. If you're really serious about tennis and have an undying passion for it, don't cheat, man. It's not cool. Give it your best, and if your best isn't enough, train. Train some more. Get better, then try. Cheating has never taken anyone anywhere.

I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY I'VE WRITTEN THIS. IT'S SUCH BAD WRITING. I'M GOING TO POST IT ANYWAY. 

Because I have my Hindi exam day after and I am bored.

These are 10 random facts, which are a result of acute boredom. I just had nothing better to do. These are very very very random, and also very very very true.

Here goes nothing

1. I like bland food. Yes, I'm Punjabi. Yes, I live in the land of tandoori tikka and rogan josh, but I still like bland food. Guilt as charged. Give me boiled chicken with mashed potatoes and I will love you for the rest of my life.

2. I absolutely loathe Holi. Why? Because it is gross. It gives you dirty hair, pink teeth, a blue face and yellow arms. There was a time I used to look forward to Holi the entire year, and then people started playing Holi with everything except colours. Eggs. Mud. Grease.

3. I hate Maggi. It's yellow, slimy, and looks weird. Enough said.

4. I cannot, like CANNOT brush without the tap running. It's something I've always done. Hehehe. (PS- You can kill me for that,yeah,really)

5. I have a thing for black and white photographs. I will love anyone who gets a portfolio in black and white. Yeah. (Future husband, are you listening?)

6. I'm a feminist. A proud one, that is. And I don't think 'women dressing like sluts', or women going around the city 'after 8 pm' cause rapes; Rapists do. And and and, I HATE MALE CHAUVINISTS.

7. I don't like anyone touching my hair, my face,or my phone. It's just uncool. I' m not the touchy-feely types. It just pisses the hell out of me when someone touches my hair/phone/face, is it that difficult not to touch?

9. I cannot take a shower when the water is cold, even when its 45 degree Celsius outside. It's just too cold for me.

10. Also, I can't sleep without a blanket. I will switch on the AC, but I will never sleep without a blanket.

Never seen-THIRTEEEEEEN

As I look back, I finally realize I've grown as a person. I've left parts of me behind. I've become a lot less judgmental in the past year. I've started appreciating the good things in life and I've started counting my blessings. This time, last year things were bloody different. I was close to so many people I'm not even in touch now, and trust me, it feels so weird. I'm not saying that it was all their fault, because it was not. I just don't know what happened..we drifted apart. There was nothing much I could do to help it, either. The good part, however, is that I came to know who are the people who've been true to me, not only on my face, but also behind my back. Let's get real, people, everybody is bitched about, no matter what you do, you will be judged, but you know what? It's entirely your choice how you take it, you either let the people bring you down or, you just don't care and smile and live life like everything is perfect. I chose the latter, I did. What is the point in being sad about comments made by people who don't even matter? Whatever mistakes I made in the past, I regret nothing. Absolutely nothing. They helped me grow. I've realized it's okay to be weak sometimes. It's okay to cry. It's okay to be low. But, in the process, we must not forget how to be happy. We must not forget there's much more to life than one person. We must cherish I chose to be happy with the people around me. I chose to stop finding faults. I chose to love. I chose to smile. I chose to live.

Here is to new beginnings,

to happiness,

to love,

Here's to twelve beautiful trips around the sun

Here's to my thirteenth trip.

Happy thirteenth to me :D

Back to life

Today I saw this girl. She must have been around 7 years old. She wore a pink GAP sweatshirt and jeans, her beautiful hair tidily tied up in a ponytail. Her high-cheekbones, fair colour complimented her. Her eyes shone so brightly, they screamed innocence. I couldn't help but smile at her. Thousand dreams were reflected in her glistening eyes. Hundred aspirations. She was so full of life. She played around the store, picking up the footballs and tapping them, and calling out for her mother who was shopping somewhere around. She looked happy, but more importantly, she looked content. She was happy with what she had, unlike most of us, obviously. She wasn't inquisitive like I am. She knew all the answers she needed to know. That girl loved colors, I could see. I could see how she would get fascinated by the smallest things. That girl didn't care what people thought of her. She paid no heed to what she heard because she was so busy in her own little world. She was very unlike me. I have always been an inquisitive child, always wanting to know more, sometimes, even more than I needed to. If someone wouldn't tell me something, I'd somehow manage to dig out what I wanted to know. I was never ever in my life content with what I knew. The hunger to know more and more kept increasing day by day. My eyes reflected only the need to know more and more, and a little more.

But maybe, those inquisitive eyes DID reflect dreams, hopes, and aspirations. Maybe, just maybe, everybody, along with me, failed to see it then.

But then, today I did. I realized something I should have realized quite some time back.

..somewhere deep down, in those eyes of that little girl, I saw me. I saw the girl who loved to dream, and believe. I saw the girl who was content, but somewhere I knew, that little girl in me had died.

And, I'm trying to bring her back. Bring her back to life.

"..you're the same person who kept me sane all along"

Here we are, sitting in the soothing winter sun, trying to figure out our respective lives, and for a change, I like the sound of silence. It is the most comfortable silence of my life. Suddenly, you say, I've changed. You say that my sense of humor has changed, my way of perceiving things has changed. You say my hairstyle has changed, my scent is unfamiliar to you. You say I've lost my twinkling eyes, which have been replaced by dull, normal eyes. You say I don't wear my eyeliner like I did earlier, or how my style of dressing has changed completely. You say I've turned into a laid-back, carefree and lazy person.

But you know what? You haven't changed a bit. You're still beaming. The color in your cheeks is still pink. The twinkle in your eyes still remains. You're wearing the same genuine smile. You're the same person who's scent I loved. Your hair are still the same. Messy, yet, adorable. You're the same person who picked me up when I fell in class, after making fun of me and laughing your lungs out for 5 minutes straight. You're the same person who forgave me for every silly mistake that I made, and even the horrid ones.You're the same person who didn't walk out on me even when you thought you should. You're the same person with whom I plan my career and laugh at how you're so confused between Commerce and Humanities. You're the same person with whom I share a million insiders which just multiply as days pass by. You're the same person with whom I know I will laugh my wits out even when I'm low.You're the same person who taught me how to chase my dreams, and catch them, too. You're the same person who comforted me when I was upset. You're the same person who was there for me when I wasn't in a state to be there for myself. You're the same person who held my hand, hugged me tight and went through every stage of life with me and never complained once. You're the same person with whom I share all the technicolored memories. All of them. I'm not exaggerating. Most of my friends know who I am, my fears, my doubts, my strengths, my weaknesses, but do you know the difference between them and you- they just know, but you know WHY. That's what makes you different.

And special. I love you.

100 truths

1. Last beverage- Coke

2. Last phone call - Dad

3. Last text message- Geetika Rai

4. Last song you listened to- Professing my love-Karl Wolf

5. Last time you cried- Err, don't remember

SIX HAVE YOU EVER:

1. Dated someone twice- No

2. Been cheated on?- No

3. Kissed someone & regretted it?- No

4. Lost someone special?- Yes. She's an angel now. Miss you, Ipshita

5. Been depressed?- Yeah.

6. Been drunk and threw up? - No.

LIST FOUR FAVORITE COLORS:

1. Black

2.Pink

3.Purple

4.Blue

5. Yellow

HAVE YOU:

1. Made new friends - Yeah.

2. Fallen out of love- Err, haven't fallen in love, yet:P

3. Laughed until you cried- Yeah. All the time :')

4. Met someone who changed you- Yeah.

5. Found out who your true friends were- Yeah I did.

6. Found out someone was talking about you- Yes. And then stopped talking.

7. Kissed anyone on your Facebook friend's list- Nope.

8. How many people on your Facebook friends list do you know in real life- most of them.

9. How many kids do you want to have- I hate kids.

10. Do you have any pets- No.

11. Do you want to change your name- Never.

12. What did you do for your last birthday- Called a few friends over.

13. What time did you wake up today- 10 pm

14. What were you doing at midnight last night- Coming back from a dinner I'd gone to.

15. Name something you CANNOT wait for- Tennis practice at 7.30 am tomorrow. (not really :P)

17. What is one thing you wish you could change about your life- Life might not be perfect, but it's beautiful

18. What are you listening to right now- Nothing

19. Most visited webpage- Facebook and Blogger.

1. What's your name- Aastha

2. Nicknames- None

3. Relationship Status- Single

4. Zodiac sign- Aquarius.

5. Male or female or transgendered- Female

6. Elementary- Sacred Heart Senior Secondary School, Chandigarh

7. Middle School- Sacred Heart Senior Secondary School, Chandigarh

8. High school- Sacred Heart Senior Secondary School, Chandigarh

10. Hair color - Black.

11. Long or short- A little beneath the shoulders.

16. Height-A little more than 5'6"

17. Do you have a crush on someone?- Nope

18: What do you like about yourself?- Er, that I can make others happy. Lol :P

19. Piercings- Yeah.

20. Tattoos- Want one!

21. Righty or lefty- Righty

FIRSTS :

22. First surgery- Never had one

23. First piercing- When I was, erm, 3?

24. First best friends- Sara

26. First sport you joined- Tennis

27. First pet- golfishh!

28. First vacation- Dont remember

29. First concert- None

30. First crush- Lol, i don't know

RIGHT NOW:

49. Eatingg- Nothing

50. Drinking- Water

52. I'm about to- Sleep

53. Listening to- Nothing

55. Waiting for- Lol, nothing :P

YOUR FUTURE :

58. Want kids? Don't know

59. Want to get married? Maybe

60. Careers in mind? Law, probably.

WHICH IS BETTER WITH THE OPPOSITE SEX?

68. Lips or eyes- Eyes.

69. Hugs or kisses- Hugs.

70. Shorter or taller- Taller.

71. Older or Younger- Older.

72. Romantic or spontaneous- Romantic.

73. Nice stomach or nice arms- Nice stomach.

74. Sensitive or loud- Neither

75. Hook-up or relationship- Relationship.

77. Trouble maker or hesitant- Trouble maker.

HAVE YOU EVER :

78. Kissed a stranger- Nope!

80. Lost glasses/contacts- Never

81. Sex on first date- Nope.

82. Broken someone's heart- Not that I know of.

83. Had your own heart broken- Not really.

85. Been arrested- Nope.

86. Turned someone down- Yeah.

87. Cried when someone died- Yup

88. Liked a friend that is a girl?- Nope. (UGH)

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

89. Yourself- Totally

90. Miracles- Yes.

91. Love at first sight-Nope

92. Heaven- no

93. Santa Clause- NO -.-

95. Kiss on the first date?- Err, no.

96. Angels- Oh yes, they're rrrright beside me.

ANSWER TRUTHFULLY:

97. Is there one person you want to be with right now? - Yes.

98. Had more than one boyfriend/girlfriend at one time? - No

100. Posting this as 100 Truths?- Yup.

The things that make you appreciate life

There's always one thing you love more than anything else. That one thing you love more than life. You know what I love most on this planet? Tennis. The game of tennis is so beautiful. It makes me feel alive, it makes me feel at peace. No, I'm not lying. Whenever I'm low, a light hitting session does the trick. ALWAYS. The adrenaline rush. The excitement. The sense of satisfaction. The feeling of knowing that I'm at least good at something-priceless. Sometimes, I do crib about going for practice in the extreme cold/heat, but when I'm on court, everything vanishes. Gone. All the troubles, all the worrying, the stress, the tension, all of it just goes away, magically. I get magically transferred to a new world. Oh, I love that feeling :')

I have always loved tennis. And shall continue to.

Even when..

I knew I could give my best, but didn't.

I desperately wanted to give my best, but couldn't.

I was made to do 5 extra sprints.

I was shouted at for my laid-back attitude.

I got blisters.

I was forced not to have long nails.

I complained about the heat/cold and cramps

I had to stay till late for practice.

I had to wait for 8 hours for my match.

I had to play a match at 1 AM, 2 AM, 4AM, and report at 6AM.

I injured my wrist(minor injury) and my ankle (major injury)

I was advised by the doctor not to practice for one week, but I still did.

I had to practice at 7.30 AM on Sundays while all my friends were sleeping

I had to cancel my plans with friends/family only because I couldn't miss my practice session.

I have to change my tennis shoes every month (that's a good point, actually. Shopping excites me:P)

I have tanlines on my ankles, feet, arms, legs.

I threw my racket out of disgust and manged never to break it

I swelled with pride each time I won a match and went into a shell after I lost one.

I saw the pain in the eyes of my teammates when I lost a match.

I was down in the first set, but still managed to win the match.

I disappointed everybody by losing an easy match.

I've loved tennis even when all I was asked about at family gatherings was, "How's tennis going?"

I have loved each and every bit of that game. It is THE BEST thing that could ever happen to mankind. I can go on and on writing about why and how much I love tennis. It is and always will be my first and foremost love. No matter what the world says, I have undying love for this beautiful game. . .true story.

Tennis is special for me.

It always has been.

And always will be.

:')

Nothing is free, not even freedom

In another one hour, we'll complete 62 years of being a Republic Nation. Wow. :O

No it's not just another day. It's just not. I refuse to believe so.

Some 70 years ago people were struggling to live, struggling to breathe free air. They laid their lives so that we could taste freedom and breathe freedom. for Us. Yes, our ungrateful generation. Our generation. We refuse to get up and go to school just because we're lazy? We refuse to spare 52 seconds to sing our national anthem in the morning assembly? Yes. That same generation.

Amazing, isn't it?

No I'm not being a senti patriot, but I just want you to have a sense of belonging- ness towards your country. I'm not asking you to go fight a war, just asking you to have some respect for your birth soil

Too much to ask for?

I don't think so.

I hope all of you have a Happy Republic Day.

New Blog!

I've made a new blog.

A little lighter side of me.

A little more fun.

My alter ego.

The DramaQueen

http://thedramaneverreallyends.blogspot.com/

Thousand emotions.

YUUSSS. One of those days. *sigh*

My Best Friend

This is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance is totally unintended.

____________________________________

Everybody has friends. I do, too.

But there is one special friend. The One.

We've been together since pre-school.

She knows me better than I know myself.

She knows that I'm not okay even if I say the opposite.

She knows the stories behind the wry grins. Behind the tears not shed. Behind the swollen eyes. Behind the pink-ness in the cheeks.

She doesn't know my stories...she has lived them with me.

She has been there for me when I was fragile, when she knew an incorrect word here or there, could break me. Into pieces. Millions of them.

She is the best thing that has ever happened to me in the sixteen years of my existence. She chose to stick with me not only in the good times, but the ridiculously sad times. I love her. To pieces. Forever. Till the end.

We are and always will be inseparable. We're like conjoined twins. We're like family. We're always together. She makes me feel loved- in every sense of the word. She is the most important part of my life. Yes. Mum's there, too. I enjoy mum's company, but when I'm with her, everything is different. It's magical. It's so...special.

I know, that no matter how many times my priorities change, she will still be Number One. Always. We never fight. It's amazing how we gel so well together.

She has been like a sister to me in the sixteen years. And I trust her to punch the guy who breaks my heart. She’s always been like that. Easy-going. Caring. Considerate.

Most of all, she listens. She listens patiently. She never interrupts. She gives unbiased advice. She doesn’t always agree with me. She knows when I’m wrong, and instead of plying along, she guides me to what is right. A mother, an elder sister, a role model-all rolled into one.

The bond we share is unbreakable. Nothing in this world can ever change what she means to me. Her value, I can never forget.

One fine day, Mum wanted me to go see the doctors. She thought it would be good for me. Therapists, she called them. I reluctantly obeyed.

They said something horrible about Her.

But then, They never knew her.

They never knew how much she meant to me.

They never knew how much she cared for me.

They never knew how she held me tight when everybody walked out.

They never knew how she protected me.

But it turned out, that she was always there, for me and only me.

They blamed my mental health.

One horrific word changed it all- SCHIZOPHRENIA

And my knees hugged my chest,

And I cried, for 5 days straight.

I cried till my tears dried.

I want to blog. I stare at the screen. The black letters on the white background. How as I click my fingers words appear on the screen of my laptop.

I don't know what to write about.

The writer in me..just died. Sigh.

I'll be back...soon. With a post.

Ciao.