unconditional

I love you for who you are

but if you were to change

I would change with you.

link

Here is how a range of leading authors describe their approach to writing—a process that can be lonely, tedious, frustrating and exhilarating.

dripping

It keeps raining in Chennai. We survey rising water levels from windows high above the ground and decide to stay in. “College is like an extended retreat,” announces one girl. “I miss my parents,” whispers another. We sleep excessively and ignore ringing phones. Boys are out there and we are (safe) in here.

objects in the mirror are closer than they appear

Jaded and confused, our heroine threw herself into work.

L is for the way you

The hostel is a hive. K and I marvel over our sudden acquisition of a Life, with boyfriends and drama and room keys. There is also however too much work that we never do on time, and then sweat and photocopy notes copiously on the last day. We also get our hearts broken everyday with a matter of factness better suited for laundry and attending classes. Everybody had issues, I tell her, and we agree to let it go because boys are like that. Because now there is a disconnect in my life I didn’t have before, someone here and someone else over there, and now like a typical girl my moods are not my own anymore.

Stop hitting on other girls! I say over and over again on the phone, feeling smaller and smaller.

might cause nosebleeds

Once again I find myself pondering the nuances of life.

Once again I find myself wishing I hadn’t eaten so much sambar.

Once again I find myself watching my phone like a pathetic bastard.

And once again I find myself mesmerised by Crank That. I mean DAMN!

SO:

I wore heels this weekend for the sister’s wedding and obviously, since my soul (and sole, HAHA) is masculine, my little toe has swollen up and now looks like a bloodied grape. I will leave you with that mental picture. You’re welcome my little llamas.

FAQs-

Q – Is this the best blogging you can do you sad little person?

A – Yes.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older,

Apoorva

fascinating new thing

I have officially found people who fit my loopy jigsaw life. Every day is good in small and big ways.

The weekend was a smorgasboard of fun. Friday night was one of the best nights I’ve had since coming here. Getting completely smashed and drunk dialling unsuspecting intellectual boys who never look at us, and girls with features cut from glass. The auto driver smiles into the rearview mirror when we can’t stop singing-laughing, and then we collapse on a balcony with steaming Chinese food and bidis. The night was smoky and friendly and perfect.

Saturday was a movie and shady train rides and eating something (Ceylon Egg Chicken Parantha, YOU ARE WELCOME) and then something else (cake, popcorn, corn, chili chicken, cup noodles, nutribars, namkeen, banana chips, and I am sure I have forgotten something else) and inadvertently getting over someone.

Sunday was too-many movies on democracy (some good, some so bad we walk out into the sun to bitch) dinner and taking too many pictures.

I have also started watching people and forging fictional understandings. With real people, when they finally laugh at my jokes I stop thinking about them. How typical.

I am going to Delhi today. There is a wedding, a Charlotte, a dance, a Sonakshi and a Sabira among others, and a meeting with alcohol and awkwardness. There doesn’t appear to be enough time for all these things, but they’re all important.

 

I am going to fucking miss people in Chennai.

cheap yet pretty

At 3 am I am aggressive after burgers and horror movie festivals, it is late at night and he holds up his hand (cigarette burning between long fingers) – Punch it as hard as you want. Harder! – so I make a fist and imagine faces till the knuckles are numb and he says – You’re pretty strong. What’s wrong? I make a face and a fist and thinking about faces, reply – Talking is for bitches.

Now I have sat on your terrace and drunk your beer, sat on the bed glassy-eyed, now love can be so boring, now I really don’t ever want to go down your street again.

having moved far away

I have forgotten how to be alone, living and fighting and crushing and smoking in a building full of cool kids. I want to not care I think, looking very hard at girls and boys, so I don’t and waste my time instead. I want to keep track but I can’t, so I give up and keep moving. I feel like I’ve left everyone behind.

WOW.