Eventually, is here

Been a while I put my almost-old keyboard to some use, rather than typing away stinker emails. Trust me as I say this, I’ve felt each one of my finger struggle while they tried to type something substantial. I saw them fail, stumble over the alphabets to make a word, and find their way to write this story, eventually!

The last 12 months weren’t easy. They crawled slower than a snail, pretty similar to how the hour-hand of the clock would barely move when you constantly stare at it. Imagine being in a deep pit, jumping to catch the last thread of the hanging rope and gasping every ounce of oxygen to survive. THAT does sound a little over-dramatic, but then don’t humans over-romanticize and dramatize everything? So today, after exactly one year, I can say I climbed up and out of it, eventually!

Last year this day, while I hoped to spend Diwali at home, life had plans to drug me on anesthesia! An unexpected surgery isn’t an easy thing to deal with when you have Indian (melodramatic) parents, or just being a 28 year old too. It made me angry, annoyed, irritated, needy, aloof, and to top it all, influenced to take decisions I regret till date. It got harder when I had to ‘ask for help’, which still doesn’t sound comfortable. After all those stupid decisions, dragging my feet towards a brighter 2018 was the only sunny wish I was looking forward to. But instead, I walked along with other situations, diagnosed to pop some obnoxious quantity & quality pills and stayed away from things I would prefer on weekends (not even asking for my favorite ones here, to be honest!) for over six months. It felt like my heart went on a stretch like an elastic band with maximum force and fired back, not once, but multiple times. & dang! It hurt.


I wade through because I had to. Each day, hoping that it’ll all end eventually.

And eventually, it did.

I’m not saying I didn’t give up. I gave up on most of the days, yet slept on a wet pillow holding on to this hope of eventually. “Eventually” won’t get you anywhere, they say. But it’ll help to reassure with the faith you have in yourself, or whosoever you want to put into, to just hold on. It’s like looking at a blue sky even on your computer wallpaper, hoping it’ll be real for you one day. We humans don’t do well with uncertainty, at least I don’t, even though that’s precisely what life is. We try to over-analyze, over-complicate, over-think and over-dramatize challenges to fit our story. It has to, right? Isn’t that the whole point to get the fit right? With your career, your partner,  your day to day being, just to fix it right in your tiny ecosystem strung by the heart and the head. With all this and much more, this ‘eventually’ makes the head calm, even though it does for just ten minutes in the day. Honestly, It did help the riot in my head to bring some order to everything in and around me.

Today, after 365 days, I can say my eventually is here.
It might not last, but it is here to drink up to!

Until then.

Stories that last…

I believe that stories are magical. They are a happy place of spellbinding beauty! So much so, that I’d pick anything that says “Your life is a story”, even in glitters (True Story). The mere existence of you & I, is a reason enough to be a passing reference, a paragraph or a chapter in our story. Yes. I’ve said this a lot!

But it’s uncanny how the stories evolve though. How we accidentally stumble upon the path carved for us, while being completely engrossed on our existing one. More like, life slyly winking at us from the corner of the bar, while we’re busy downing our drink, completely unaware of what’s to come.

Reason why stories fascinate me.
Reason why humans fascinate me.

A couple of weeks ago, I have been reiterated the importance of the ‘Butterfly Effect’, which is when a butterfly flaps its wings in one part of the world, there is a storm brewing in the other. So even if you’re probably well guarded, you’re always one step behind the storm to hit.

I’ve just been hit by a couple of them.

One hit us hard by ending a part of our story abruptly, leaving behind a feeling of accepting the unexpected dead end. But then, that’s how we struggle out of the constantly playing joke we all are in. You find that one prose, that’ll help you start writing the next chapter which will eventually make the lost one, last.

& the other surprisingly hit me beautifully enough to start a new one, which does have a teeny bit of the familiarity and the freshness of making me take the leap of faith, to pick up and read more before writing it as my own. Pretty sure I was downing my single malts, while this butterfly flapped!

It is VERY uncanny how the stories evolve! How while we’re busy writing our story, we stumble, fumble and write the new chapters, struggling or surviving. Which also ties loosely & closely with the Ripple Effect “Every element of world-building you write into your novel has some sort of influence on your characters’ world—and sometimes it takes a little extra brainstorming to realize that any one element has more of an effect than you may have originally imagined when you first dreamed up the element.

For now, I’m happily surviving on mine, to probably make it my tale to last…

Chapter TBD: ‘Twenty Seventh’

I always end up writing on the plane, this time in three parts. Multiple chains of thoughts poured into over 400+ words in this story, ‘Twenty-seventh’. It is a chapter in itself.

Of course, it’s not a big milestone, but a huge-ass landmark for my story. Yes, everybody has a story, and you & I exist for a reason. If you’re reading this, then you’ve definitely had some part to play in my twenty-seven years of existence. Or someday you will.

A week long solo trip planned months in advance filled with adventure and surprises. Half and half, I’ll say.
From accepting loneliness to enjoying being alone, accommodating love and attention in the tiniest form possible, experiencing the journey through rose tinted glasses, walking miles with no specific destination, feeling lost & not being bothered about it, contemplating relationships, ignoring the thought to judge people, thinking about anything & everything & anyone under the sun (read: freezing cold!)
The seven days didn’t change me neither did I expect them to. But what they gave me was a heart full of love & whims to fancy.

*They taught me to be a bit more fluid in the head to let the heart find its own way.

*They taught me that saying it when it hurts, helps. It could just be a birthday call someone missed.

*The frozen cities made me fall for ice cream more than ever. Trying ‘something sweet’ did make my mind happy.

*They told me to stop looking for disappointments, they’ll eventually happen. For all the pretty sights I saw, the discontent felt insignificant.

*The seven days kept me entertained by my own quirks. It is actually fun to listen to the same set of music for days, reading an old book again, and just accepting silence.

*The AirBnBs helped me understand the importance of saying ‘No’ to things and people that make it hard for a peaceful sleep.

*Birthday taught me to be okay with my own imperfections. My idea of bringing in my own birthday is different from yours, & so are other things and love. It also made me sure of never celebrating birthdays alone.

*It made me a better learner, for all the translations I heard and the streets I figured. Not responding with ‘I know!’ didn’t stress me out.

*But the most, it made me a bit more courageous. It takes a lot to pour your heart out to a barista and have him listen to your state of being okay, & later admitting it to yourself what okay really means.

Like I said, ‘Twenty-seventh’, is a big chapter to be written.
Pretty sure if one day I decide to give up the corporate perks and write a book, the protagonist will imbibe all these emotions that are running through my veins at the moment. Human & dramatic enough.

Until then.

Ohai Excitement!

I have never been a birthday person.
Just my own, but I eagerly wait with joyousness for my loved ones’.

Of course, I get excited to see what my little one has planned, if my birthday present to self is arriving the same day, who is actually making an effort to see me at 12 in the night, or just have a conversation beyond
‘Hi, Happy Birthday!
Thank you!
& Whatsup?
Umm… Just the usual.
Great! Keep in touch.’
(If WordPress allowed me to use the rolling eye emoticon, I would.)

For as long as I can remember I usually spend the day with my folks, cut a couple of cakes, drive around, drink my favorite coffee (or other sociable drinks), & just stay away from work basically.
Last year was the first one away from home, but I chose to spend the day doing the same thing with my same set of people in the same environment I grew up in. Simple joys of life I completely enjoy, maybe because I haven’t felt it in any other way.

I can’t recall ‘looking forward’ to this day like I would for my people. Unlike my best friend who just turned #3Zero (You should read all things nice about me in her post here), I haven’t felt the anticipation or any sort of exhilaration for my birthday as such. (& by no means I think it is overrated)

But then, why not? Why not now!

After an impulse decision of being away in a different space, to finding my birthday spot, I’ve got to today where I’m currently feeling the excitement, eagerness, thrill, enthusiasm, ecstasy and a lot of joy within me.

Well then. Who needs a milestone to spur some change? 27 is a big number in itself!

10 days to birthday. 5 to the trip.
Ohai Excitement, Nice to meet you!
(& I hope you stick around.)

Light it up, 2017!

2016 was a blinder.
It came with lot of surprises, blah & yay both.
It came with dreams, that almost made it through.
It came with travel that made the heart open & mind wander.
It came with accomplishments, and no regrets.
It came with a big new opportunity, a new country.
It came with loneliness, to enjoy myself.
It came with relationships, some stronger & some to let-go of.
It came with inks to live by.
It came with soul happiness.

& In a puff, now that we’ve entered 2017 with some faint fireworks & hugs, I wish for
Some more surprises, to feel the sparkle in the eye.
Some more travel, to fuel the soul.
Some more accomplishments, to make my folks proud.
Some more brightness, to let the mind steer the path.
Some more dreams, to make them true.
Some more power, to be a little more stronger.
Some more relationships, to fill the heart.
Some more love, to hold on to.
Some more joy, to get addicted to.

& some more of more.

Counting on you, 2017.

Do you listen?

Let me ask you for a favor. Read this out loud to yourself.

Do you remember the last time you connected with somebody by staying quiet?
Or when was it that you felt something special by listening and not reacting?

I’m going to be brutally honest here & say that I usually don’t. My answer to somebody’s statement/ fact/ question is ready in my head before their last punctuation comes through. I could say it is human nature to behave like this, but with the distracted generation as we are today; this holds true. Most, not all, of the people I know behave the same.

We hear often. Yet do not care to listen.

We end up entangling the simplest of things by hearing what the significant other has to say. If only, we had the courage to listen. We unknowingly break zillion hearts (I do!) by saying nothing after hearing them. Merely cause we never bothered to listen what the heart was saying.

We judge our years of relationship, but forget to feel the unpretentious love in seconds!

On a separate note, I remember doing this professional course: ‘Conscious Business’; which talks a lot about how your career trajectory moves if you listen & behave, than hear & react. It took a while to move away from the natural tendency to defend, or succumb to reactions; but it did raise my patience level to 2, from a negative 100! Trust me to say this; it does make you happy in the head too.

It isn’t a pretty sight to have your heart broken by this, I did. Not like I’ve learnt it all, but I’m making a conscious decision of listening to stories properly. More so cause I believe in them. Cause’ stories are what make us who we are, and who doesn’t want to listen to a beautiful story everyday!
Remember to tell me yours next time, and see me listening to each and every beat of it.

I promise to try.

So now. Did you hear yourself or listen out loud?


10th month of the year and this is my 5th post.
Wondering if it’s the inconsistency in my head that I couldn’t structure it to 300+ words, or the year that just went poooof, that is bothering me. Definitely not proud of the first one, and latter is something adults generally don’t like to deal with.

A lot has changed since I last published something. I did have a lot of drafts, but when you can’t come to terms with your ever-changing life, you can’t come to terms with your bizarre thoughts too. Remember the chaos in the head? The riot in me just overpowered the writer in me for a long long time!

From ‘ever-changing lot’, I mean movement. Of jobs, houses, cities, countries, & heart.
I moved from a concrete building overlooking the slum, to another overlooking the sunrise & water.
I moved from an Okay city, to a Convenient one which does feel better than Okay.
And I moved from my caged heart, to a little liberated one with more rays of hope than before.

I think you’ve caged yourself in things that distract you from reality.” I used to hear this a lot. Maybe I did. Or maybe, I got so involved with each moment that made up this movement of mine. I don’t know who said this, but all that matters is I move, even if it’s an inch rather than a mile. It’s a hard process to move from a captive soul, but trust me it’s an intense one to admit it.

For now, it’s time to wake up from the slumber.

Well, I don’t know what this movement will bring. But like the riot that lives in me every second, the never-ending chaos of thoughts will eventually come life with each moment. And as long as I’m living up these moments, one by one, I think I’m good!

But. One thing this movement will definitely bring ‘back’ is the writer in me. So look forward to the ramblings.

Till next time.

P.S. My name as per etymology means movement.

Ek Saal Baad

A month of emotional turbulence.
Packing my favorite people in intangible forms.
Struggling to find a room with a balcony.
Cribbing about the humidity.
Not settling for the constant fish smell.
This city was just about okay for me.

Today, after 365 days.

Coming back to a not-so-tiny pink room, which is all mine.
Giving up on over hundred Delhi-Bombay fights.
Getting lost in the stunning sunsets.
Saving over forty boarding passes.
Fascinating the sound of waves.
Making friends that are my family.
The detachment made me so attached,
This city is not okay anymore.

Bombay, you’re my second home. For all the drives around the sea, for all the conversations I’ve had over coffee, for the zillion bar hopping nights, for some folks that I’m going to treasure as family, I’ll always cherish this one year that made me an adult, almost. I literally aged with each passing day, happily!

They call it the city of dreams that grows on you. & I struggled being in love with it or hating it, for a long long time. But now that I think of it, I actually am facing attachment issues.

Ek saal of #बंबईdiaries. DONE. DONE. DONE.
What’s next? Someplace else. 🙂



When something bothers you
When you don’t understand what
When the what becomes unbearable in your head
When it flows from your eyes.
When you feel lost
When you feel distracted
When you feel detached.
When all these things happen at once
When the what you think becomes too murky
& the when, the what, & the why happens.

The lump in your throat become too big to swallow.

What’s your story?

Being at an altitude of 30,000 ft., kicks the writer in me. Whatever little I am.

Yesterday, after a really long time I took an early morning flight back to the Okay city. & as they say about airports, I found myself amidst lot of stories. Stories with strangers, I’d like to put it. For once, being stuck in a long security queue at 5 AM didn’t really make me a cranky child. (Yes. I turned twenty six day before, but I’ll still be a mad child at forty. )

Well this story, it’s not a conversation.
There has been no exchange of pleasantries whatsoever. There is no judgment passed on it. It didn’t move mountains in my tiny heart. It didn’t make me giggle with funny thoughts. I didn’t cry feeling the pain. There were no secrets kept. There were no strings attached.

This story is a mere observation. It is a feeling of connection.
It is the eye contact with the boy in the blue shirt. It is the bitch face to the lady at the security check. It is the joy of seeing a 2 month baby struggling to open eyes. It is randomly meeting a friend who missed his flight. It is letting the gushes of pain in my heart reside.  It is about the promises made to dad to listen to him.

It is about the disconnected connections made.
That’s about it.

I live on stories. I want to know the zillion thoughts in your head before you made that silly expression. I want to know the reason behind the never-let-go hug. I want to know why we made that eye contact. I want to know how long our story will be. ‘Cause, we all have stories.

Stranger, I want to know you.
One story at a time.