~

So I almost died today.

Lost one of my lives at any rate.

Everyone watching thought I was flying.

But me?

I was falling.

And if you tell me one more time what a fucking idiot I am for jumping off a fast, moving train I will show you my scars and you will feel guilty.
Though I know, in your weird way which is so close to human but not quite, you’re telling me that you love me and that you’re happy I’m safe and alive.
And when I laugh at your awkwardness and your inability to express it, you will raise your eyebrows, thrash those parts of me that aren’t bruised and bleeding already and you will hug me

And I won’t know whether those are tears or a sheen of sweat cause you won’t let me see.

Me?

I’m crying.

No Air

Slow down, you crazy child
You're so ambitious for a juvenile
But then if you're so smart, tell me
Why are you still so afraid?
..................

“This can’t be it”, she muttered to herself, staring at the stiff unyielding paper she was twisting nervously in her hands.

“Anaka, stop it! Are you mad?” her mother reprimanded fiercely, snatching it out of reach, holding it up against the light to check for damages.

Anaka glanced absent mindedly at the sheet that inexplicably determined her future.
89.84% it said in stark embossed black and white.

She’d missed a 90% by one mark.

She could already imagine her parents letting the lie spill off their tongue as they proudly declared to anyone of consequence that their daughter had got a 90%.

Sounded so much better, they told her later, than a drab 89. whatever. She wondered if they’d stick to their word of a puppy present if she got a 90. She doubted it. It’s ironic how effortlessly we fail those we are entrusted to.

She could already envision her future stretching blindly in front of her.
Xaviers maybe, Law School after that, years of internships, a steady income, marriage, a house, a car, 2 kids, a pension, family holidays..round and round and round.
And the circle of life was supposed to reek of stability.
Hah!
She felt sick.
This isn't what she wanted.
She wanted to backpack through Europe
Learn the language of the stars
Dance in the moonlight
Date every sun sign
Work on a safari in Africa.
Perform a miracle.
Cry.
Learn the drums
Write a novel
Work for the police force
Discover a planet
Find God

..................

How do you explain freedom to someone who doesn’t know he has been caged?

Nymph says:
-Tell me something

H@De$--She'll make you live a crazy life but she'll take away your pain. Like a bullet to your brain says:
-?

Nymph says:
-Is this all there is?

H@De$--She'll make you live a crazy life but she'll take away your pain. Like a bullet to your brain says:
-For now..

Nymph says:
-What happened to watching the sunset and Paris in the springtime and snow in the Himalayas and Chinese men with yum food and that pink bubblegum that never loses its flavour?

H@De$--She'll make you live a crazy life but she'll take away your pain. Like a bullet to your brain says:
-Happens to the lucky ones
H@De$--She'll make you live a crazy life but she'll take away your pain. Like a bullet to your brain says:
-We're stuck with having to grow up first

You've got your passion, you've got your pride
but don't you know that only fools are satisfied?
Dream on, but don't imagine they'll all come true

I want out.
I want the key to my cage.

Loop

“I hate you”, she screamed, smashed records encircling her feet like bejeweled beetles.

Her mother watched her, light brown eyes flashing into light brown eyes, hatred echoing love.

Her mirrored skirt caught the light as she stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Her mother heard the door bang, felt the windows tremble and watched her daughter depart with hatred in her eyes.

She sat down on the wooden table, put her head in her hands, and wept.

If only…

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I hate you”, she screamed, CD’s flung into the pretty disarray of clothes and make up and jewelry.

Her mother watched her, light brown eyes flashing into light brown eyes, hatred echoing love.

Her computer blinked. Her ripped jeans deflected light as she stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Her mother heard the door bang, felt the windows tremble and watched her daughter depart with hatred in her eyes.

She sat down on the glass table, put her head in her hands, and wept.

If only…


"I hope you have a daughter just like you".

It's a curse.

Muse

“Is this fat?” she questioned anxiously, pinching at her beautiful, smooth abdomen.

"No you retard, It's called 'skin'".



Welcome to my life.

That time of the night

It's 3:45.
In the morning.
And I can't help but feel dead.

Heavy.

Listless.

Useless.

Living dead.

And the only things that light up the dark are my eyes and my purple nailpolish that glistens like dancing blood on the keyboard.

I'm scared of the dark.
Not much of a confession, but one that makes me vulnerable to you.
Lock me up in a shadowy room and I will confess to you the whereabouts of the secret weapon, take my clothes off, beg for mercy, stand on my head, salsa, anything--everything.
My imagination would kill me, megalomania-ing everything from the uneven rasp of my own breathing to the sininster silence.

Think for yourself, they tell you-
It's a curse.

It's quiet tonight.
There's a certain stillness which Bombay,' The City that Never Sleeps' boasts of being deficient in.
Funny.
Eerie.

I don't like it.

It's also that time of the night when you feel alone.
When you need someone to call just to check if you're alive,
Just to make sure you haven't cried yourself to sleep.

My phone screen doesn't talk back.
It hates me.
Blank.

For a middle child with Doctor parents and siblings who compete over who is diagnosed with more psychological disorders, I can safely admit to verging on insanity.

Confessions of a Dangerous Mind

I Hate :-
-Awkward silences
-Girls with a size zero frame and big empty heads
-Kissing back
-Math
-Too much sun
-All those gay Hindi serials that start with 'K'
-Being vulnerable
-Guilt
-Waiting
-Needing someone
-Conformists
-Promises
-Crying
-Red hair that fades
-People who pretend to be 'holier-than-thou' and then slyly stab you in the back
-Boys
-Girls who Need boys
-Star Wars
-Cowboy movies
-Loneliness
-Saying bye
-Falling
-Pain
-Feeling
-Not feeling
-People who think they can tell me what to do
-People who don't know what they want to do
-Pompous asses
-Cockroaches
-Insecurity
-Losing control
-Smiling till your face hurts
-War
-Raised voices
-Anything frilly or floral
-Death

It's ironic how the things we hate are those that remind us of ourself.
And that, my friends, is closure ~~

That's all folks.

Dawn.
Anewdaybegins,abrightertomorrow

A circle of Lies.
*Rolls eyes heavenwards awaiting the parting of skies, the Hand of God and Divine Intervention*

Nothing.
*sighs*

You disappoint me.

*Fade

Last night I missed you.

After months of locking you up in the corner of my mind it’s funny how our senses cheat us dragging us back to square one,
How the musty blend of Lavender and wood shavings and Armani and 'boy'  can make you want to puke your guts out.

I found that sweatshirt you had left behind, the one with the Lakers emblazoned on it in faded gold, the one I wore when we walked through the rain and you kissed me, the one that smells of you---but then again, it smells of me too.

It’s seen a lot, this sweatshirt.

It’s lived through Indian summers shooting hoops, tints of ice cream, stolen moments of promiscuity, make-a-move movies in the dark, long winter nights, late whispered phone calls, crying girlfriends, drunken moments, plastic promises, loneliness, shattered dreams, hope, fights, hugs where you say ‘forever’ and believe it, love lost...

And then her.

Out with the old, in with the new na na na na naa naaaa
Do your stupid dance, shoot your hoops, flash your abs
No one's watching.
I know I'M not.

Liar liar

I sat there holding it to me and I let the tears melt into the fabric till all that was left was a small dark stain.

It could have been blood, it could have been water.

But then I laughed.

Cause she’s missing out on one damn good sweatshirt!

Bloodlust

He was beautiful.

Even through the mist he stood out, his shadow opaque against the silver slivers of sky.

She couldn’t see his face, didn’t want to. It might ruin the picture she had painted in her head.

She hated it.

Hated it when they turned out to be less than perfect, when they waited and dithered and groveled and whined and shattered her fantasies with the fact that there was ‘emotion’ and ‘feeling’ and ‘oh-we-can-think-for-ourselves’ to the body that she wanted.

Couldn’t they just shut up and leave her to it?

To them?

Masks seem so much more attractive these days.

The moonlight glinted on his face as he held her close. She could feel the muscles tense in his shoulders, big strong hands holding her alive.

Perfection had never smothered her so close.

She savored it preferring to shelve its price tag, breathing him in.

He was flawless, like in her dreams.

Her only fear was waking up to a cold empty bed with nothing to stare at but her face in the dark.

He bent low making her skin dance and her eyes darken with desire.

She could see his teeth, sharp ivory daggers glinting in his mouth,

Pleasure laced with pain,

Perfect.

So close…

Lower

Lower still

Teeth

Bite

Suck

Blood

Teeth laced with blood,

Big strong hands holding her dead.

He was beautiful.

Vampires can never resist a damsel in distress.