Day 70

Hello, blog.

I skipped one day but like most days, I was quite tired. But then I slept at 12, which was not great because I woke up feeling very, very ill. I still got on with my day. I am, however, feeling like crap right now. Most of it is panicking 24*7 and some part of it is physical. I can't wait to feel fresh and alive.

I'm also thinking of re-starting working out because it makes me feel so, so good. I just need to find some time and sort my life out, to be honest. I need to call Samarth, work out, speak to ~~ and be regular with a time table. AND SLEEP ON TIME.

The other day I was also thinking about a lot of girls in the West decide to not go to college and not get an education. It makes me feel that the whole movement that worked towards the right of women to be enrolled in schools, colleges and universities. It's almost as if people fail to recognise their privilege they are born with, or acquire. It's a really long debate, which we will save for another day but just know that it makes me quite sad.


I will now go, chill a little, study and then SLEEP ON TIME. 

Day 72

Hello, friends.

Today was a rather odd day. I spent most of it panicking and studying. Then my brother and sister came home from college AND GOT ME PRESENTS, which was quite thoughtful of them, to be honest. I miss them quite a lot and it's super nice to have them around.

We have a lot of exciting things to do this weekend, apart from studying and I'm looking forward to the change. I feel like I get sucked into the vacuum of being alone and it gets dark and scary. For most part of it, I'm fine but then it gets to a point where I just. feel. alone. all. the. time. I'm trying to make a conscious effort of talking more so let's see how that goes.

I've also been doing a lot of thinking lately. I read Mira Rajput's interview about how destructive feminism is getting and I honestly think she needs to get her read out of her arse and recognise her privilege and respect OTHER women's choices. My mom has 4 degrees and gave up her job to be married and take care of her 4 kids. I didn't realise it then, but it makes me quite upset that she had to do that. I loved having her around while I was growing up but it was extremely selfish of me as a little kid to want my mom to be there for me 24*7. I'm still quite conflicted about how I feel about this whole situation but I respect my mom's choices and the reasons she made them. I think I just believe in people making their choices for themselves- even if they're wrong in retrospect.

I have also been watching a lot of Youtube and not much TV because my brother is now here. I really wanted to watch Dexter but meh. I also didn't end up doing my full length test which made me feel eh but i didn't do it BECAUSE I was feeling eh. A bad score makes me even more eh. So I did 170 questions instead. It was fine.

Now I'm going to watch a little more YT, chat with Vasudha, whom I really enjoy speaking to, and then head off to bed.

See you tomorrow, folks. 

Day 73

Day 73

I’m super, super tired. My exam went quite well. I got home and spent most of my time watching YT and/or TV. Should have slept but didn’t. 

I also felt guilty for not studying, but it’s okay to take a break. IT’s okay. It’s okay. 

It’s all okay. It will get better soon. I won’t be guilty for taking a break. Yes. 

Bye. 

Day 74

Day 74

Hello, friends and foes. I haven’t logged into this blog since 2013. That’s 4 years. More like 40 in teenage years. But i’m taking class 12 board exams now, starting tomorrow and I really, really want to document the whirlwind of emotions I will feel over these couple of weeks. 74 days to be exact. I’m starting this journal entry backwards from Day 74 and will go on till Day 1. I will then see if I can (and want to) continue. I’m also choosing this blog and not my new one because nobody significant really reads this anymore. I can be inarticulate here and it won’t make a difference OKAY.

SO. A lot has happened since I last wrote here. I got a new blog on Wordpress because that’s what the Cool Kids were doing. I got a Twitter account, a Tumblr account and my blogging shifted to more of photo blogging and I stopped…writing as often. But I do like to believe that my writing has gotten better. I’ve been published in a few anthologies, some of my poems have been published, I’ve been a part of an online publication as their editor, and a print magazine. I was also invited to attend a Literature Festival in Udaipur, which was quite cool. (I didn’t go) But I haven’t been…consistent. And that’s true about most things.

I gave up playing tennis in 10th. I wrote a whole post about it. I quite miss it, actually. I want to start playing again after I’m done with 12th. Maybe not competitively initially, but recreationally for sure. 

Then I got into public speaking and MUNs, then debates and now I’m not into anything. Maybe it’s because I’m already juggling a lot of things but whatever. 

I also went to summer school. I became Head Girl. I quit as Director General of the MUN and hosted a TEDx event instead. It was quite fulfilling, actually. I’m still as driven and ambitious as ever and am trying to channelise my energy into different areas. 

I also got a new bunch of friends towards the end of 12th. A lot of them I knew but never though would be my friends. I also think I have a crush on one of them, but I don’t know for sure. It’s not something I want to pursue, no matter how much I’d like to. The timing is all wrong. Meh. Bummer. 

I also have a close knit group of friends now but I don’t think I relate to most of them now. That’s a scary thought but 3 of them are in love so I mean. I don’t know. They’re different. But I guess that’s just how I’ve always been. I can’t consistently like and love people. I have waves of love and admiration and apathy and disgust. These phases pass. Much like everything else. 

Anyway, tomorrow is my first board exam and I’m chilling and watching a little Dexter. I really, really, enjoy it. I used to watch it regularly back in 2010ish and have recently gotten back into it. Coming back to familiarity, eh. I also spoke to my friend Samarth, whom I love very much. He also sent me really amazing English notes. He’s really nice. I wish I saw more of him, though. He stays in Bombay and I’ve met him all of two times last year. 

I’m quite excited to start blogging again. It’s like daily vlogging, which is the New Cool Thing. I love watching daily vlogs but I find myself getting way too involved so I’d rather just stick to my own stuff. Ever since I gave up 90% of my social media, I started watching a lot of YouTube. I also got into makeup. I really enjoy it but don’t wear it as often. It’s fun, and it does good for my controlling self. Also, I have a lot of free time. 

The reason you will be seeing this on what is actually Day 73 is because I don;t remember the password to my Blogger account so I’m going to try and retrieve it after my exam. I just can’t be bothered anymore. If you’re still reading, I will see you tomorrow with more on my extremely unhealthy eating and a little more rambling. Buh-bye. 

Words.

Someday, I'll stop writing.
 I'll stop feeling.
I'll stop giving physical form to my emotions.
I'll let go of everything that matters.
I'll stop.
I'll turn into a fragmented girl.
I'll stop writing, but until then,
 I'll let my words describe my sadness and give beauty to my misery.
I'll let words be the most powerful thing in my life.
I'll let words ensure that there is excitement in my life, and not infinite security.
I'll let words be the thing that destroy me in the end, but the things I love the most.
I'll let my words be poetic and prettily written.
I'll let words be my drug, the thing that helps me get through each day's misery but will kill me in the end.
 I'll let words intoxicate me.
I'll let the words speak to me.
I'll let words have the supreme position in my life.
I'll let words flow just like my tears rolled down my cheeks; making the sound of water gushing into an empty glass. Pitter-patter.
I'll let words fill the void in my cracked soul.
I'll let words comfort me when I'm broken, defeated and beaten.
I'll let words numb the intensity of pain I'm forced to bear; as numb as a fossil.
I'll let words soothe my tornado-like mind.
I'll let words be the thing that save me in the end, save me from themselves.
I'll let words be the medium of love, sorrow and pain in my life.

Until I stop writing, I'll write, even though I'll never be able to write something even close to what I want to, I'll write. I'll write for the mere satisfaction it gives me. I'll write for the sorrow, for the joy. I'll write because it makes me feel alive. I'll write because words let me cling on to them. I'll write...


“I write only because there is a voice within me that will not be still” 
-Sylvia. 

There are times when nothing makes sense; when everything feels wrong.

When all you want to do is slip on an oversized tshirt, velvet sweatpants, curl into a ball and let everything slip away..

When your heart sinks lower and lower with every passing moment, and you let it

When your soul aches from all the frustrations you have been facing, and you let it. 

When you just lie in bed...longing for some peace. A ray of hope. 

Hoping against hope. Letting the tears flow. Letting your soul ache and letting your heart sink. You lie there, motionless. Cold. Fragile. Scared. Waiting. Anxious. 

You know what will happen and you're not looking forward to it. 

Steaming hot tears roll down your icy cold cheeks. You feel the cold sheets against your cooler skin and you get goosebumps all over your body, so you pull up your blanket to warm up your grieving, cold soul, but in vain.

So...you let go. 

You let go of all the tiny bit of happiness is left in you. 

You let go. 

You let go of emotions, feelings and warmth. 

You let go.

You let go of your soul, allow it to escape your mortal body.

You let go.

You let go of your hopes, aspirations.

You let go.

You let go of the power that lies in you.

You're no more than just a mortal being.

Lying in your bed...motionless, cold, fragile, scared, waiting and anxious.

You let go. 

Unfinished.

I don't know much about you, except that you're the younger one of the two brothers. Or that your dad is an actor and your mum is pursuing a Masters in an exotic course. Or that you have perfect hair and lovely collarbones. Or that you went backpacking to India for an entire year.  Or how much you love your dog, even though these are her last days. Or that the way you draw is magnificent. Or that the way you look at canvas and paints and get completely lost in them. Or that you're going to go for what you're passionate about, no matter what.

I don't know much about you, except that you're of Indian origin but have chosen United Kingdom to be your home. Or how alike you and I are. Or how your love for Grey's Anatomy is almost as much as mine. Or despite being raised abroad, you haven't forgotten your roots and still come and visit India every break. Or how you've seen more of India than I have. Or how much you love your friends. Or how much you crave your parents' love. Or maybe, you and I...we're soul sisters.

I don't know much about you, except that you walked into the tube drunk and almost tripped on the pole. Or how you got so embarrassed that you kept weeping through the entire journey. Or how I think you had a long way to go because you took the Metropolitan line. Or how the lady on the tube gave you a packet of tissues before leaving. Or how your fingers were intertwined in your husband's fingers and everyone on that train could make out how much you loved each other.

I don't know much about you, except that your parents migrated from Kenya to France a few decades ago. Or that you love Indian tea. Or that you always save green apples for me during breakfast. Or how you love your job of waiting tables at this fancy club only people with salt and pepper hair visit. Or that  come what may, you're always full of joy.

I don't know much about you, except that you moved to UK from Jamaica when you were six and have ever since lived and loved this country. Or how, instead of one, you have two homes. Or how you're so afraid of foxes but love squirrels. Or how, despite of all your flaws and imperfections, you seem perfect.

I don't know much about you, except that you're the lady at the till in Bershka from Poland who loves Primark and can go on and on about how much you love their clothes. Or how you're so vibrant and full of life with that bright red lipstick you're wearing. Or how, in the midst of the white floor and walls, your pink outfit stands out(just like you in a crowd)

I don't know much about you, except that you're homeless and sit outside the Sainsbury's in Mayfair. Or that I make sure to leave 1 pound for you every day when I go out to get some dessert/coffee. Or how you smile at me everyday. Or how...deep down I wish you had a home.

I don't know much about anyone, really. However, what I know is that everyone has a story. An unfinished, incomplete story. A story they're trying to add to every single day of their life...a story even when complete will always be...unfinished.

PS : The people I'm talking about are some of the people I came across in England while I was there for the summer. It's sort of a travel-blog-post. So, in memory of all the beautiful people I met, I decided to write this.