08
Feb
10

through hell for you, let it burn right through my shoes.

There’s something inherently unhealthy about the entire concept, I say to myself, over and over again, we modern kids went WRONG somewhere. I brought this upon myself, I taunt when I’m really being catty. Living the life is hard on a girl, much harder than in movies and books, where no one could really describe the strange hollowness of this, which is like – you give it away right, you give it all away, and then the person is GONE like some twisted TWISTED magic trick. Presto.

But you WATCH the stupid movie about fucking vampires (best movie ever shh)  – you EAT the food (then his too) you SLEEP (no words), you TALK and FIGHT and (what a cow) wear earrings – earrings! – and (oh man) hold – fucking – hands -

STOP RIGHT THERE MOTHAFUCKA.

Think of pictures on Facebook, think of food, think of four rupees and fifty paisa. Think of life unlived, think of girlfriends, think of a career, think of words, think about your MOTHER, think about nail polish and haircuts – think about songs and burgers and Delhi, think about alcohol – OH ALCOHOL MY LOVE IS PURE – think about Bangalore, about songs unsung, heroes who will slay the horrible beast I commissioned to steer him away from his mission, about diets! About diets that will surely change everything, make you harder better faster stronger. About heroes, really think hard and DEEP about heroes.

07
Feb
10

how to be happy

because you see, i’ve been getting sad lately. really, overwhelmingly, teabag repeatedly dunked in and out of hot water, leaking sadness out of my pores kind of way. and that’s not something i’m used to anymore. ill tell you later why, for now -

1. Puppies.

2. Watching a porcupine having hiccups and eating a banana.

3. Roommates.

We’re bringing sexy back.

4. Cup noodles.

5. Walk like a penguin.

04
Feb
10

i would like you for my own.

After fifty years of marriage -

Elmer always takes my hand and leads me across the parking lot like I’m his girl and he’s taking care of me.” —Imogene
“I take Imogene’s hand and help her walk because otherwise she’s liable to fall down.” —Elmer

28
Jan
10

days of my life

Manu is so South Indian to our astounded Delhite eyes that he remains our south Indian friend for the next six months. he is alright with this moniker, though his forehead wrinkles a little when sunainaa tells him to use fair and lovely. a few weeks later i can see (amongst the contents of his unpacked bag after a trip home) garnier fairness for men cream. he loses weight rapidly. the first time i met him, we were walking next to each other on the road, and he turned to me and said – i want a six pack by the end of the year. i laughed along, but then he started losing weight and didn’t stop. by january he has lost sixteen kilos and now weighs less than sunainaa. the gym instructor tells him he is underweight, a fact he repeats till we are all sickened by the sight of his underweight grin.

we are all girls in varying states of plumpness. kritika has a round tummy she will cover up with flowing tops. her angular face and lanky legs do not cheer. mum said – some people just stay this weight…they can NEVER lose more weight! for one second i am sure she’s going to cry, but then she laughs. she was trying to be comforting. then she said, kritika, you will NEVER look this good again! at that point we both burst into laughter, conscious of our inadequate bodies, the irony that these right here are the good old days. then we light up and exhale our worries under the guise of smoke.

sunainaa’s wide green eyes are permanently happy. she looks like a rolypoly puppy. she used to be overweight – pictures of sunainaa in her school uniform on facebook reveal a plump girl with shiny round  cheeks – but then shed it all in a flurry of gymming. she became hawt – thin and beautiful, boys drooled and girls hated. it wasn’t a good time for her. she shares everything and is empathetic of people who make the same mistakes she’s already made. this is my problem area! – she declares, holding onto the sides of her stomach like the ears of a disobedient child. so sunainaa has muffin tops, kritika has a paunch – i am the only one in the group who is, ladies and gentlemen, blessed democratically with fat everywhere. the boobs are too big, the stomach pops out in tires when i sit and hunch, the face is round like a baby. i stew in irritation as these thinner girls complain about their minor problems, but can never seem to heap up enough discipline to set forth on my own diet longer than a couple of weeks. i give up soon- each tomorrow is another day, another diet to start at breakfast and end at the tipping point of five pm – lunch was hours ago and dinner is hours away, time to pull open a silver wrapper, pick up the phone for americana, pour boiling water into the cup of noodles. but more on that later.

ok. kritika and i sit facing eachother, serious warriors armed with rhetorical questions designed to gauge your very moral fiber. we have just seen the italian job, realised mark wahlberg is devastatingly attractive, and now must wrestle with the morality of both of us wanting to fuck mark wahlberg. god appears before you. i say, hands poised at knees in a pose of meditation. he says – here is mark wahlberg. either you can have him or apoorva can. what. do you. do. i give him to you obviously! kritika cries out. LIES! i screech. what you wouldn’t give him to me? she says. of course not. you have pawan, i have NO ONE.

okay i have another one. i MARRY mark wahlberg -

- why didn’t i marry him?

you married pawan.

oh.

yeah. so then i meet him, we fall in love, marry have kids, etcetera, but then i DIE.

kritika bursts out laughing.

this is not meant to be a funny story. anyway, i die so – DO YOU sleep  with mark wahlberg?

yes – she says without blinking. but nothing emotional, just physical i swear.

you WHORE.

can’t you see it. you’re dead – she giggles, eyes glittering. he’s comforting me, then i start crying, so he puts his arm around my shoulder, one thing leads to another and-

you WHORRRRE.

kritika finds a phrase on urban dictionary that sums up her personality – midday depression. for in the middle of any given day, she teeters at the edges of happiness and falls backwards into a vat of sadness so great that she stays submerged for hours, arms suspended, eyes open, making no effort to burst out. she will lie on the bed, a question mark with a tangle of jet black hair on one end, motionless and eyes glued willfully shut. that is unless the phone bursts into song – this will surely be pawan – then she will sacrifice herself, take off the jacket of sad, talk to him, and everything will be all right till the next time.

12
Jan
10

happy new year

So you can be sitting at the back of a car feeling light headed too late at night

listening to Bowie late at night (not listening to the screaming in the other room, thank you very much)

screaming in the corridors at people you love

hearing him melt like ice cream when you sniff

watching laptops hurtle to the ground

pretending to not notice happiness glowing from the bed next to yours

disappointing parents

making friends

laughing on a terrace

sobbing in hotels in rural India

There is something strange about 2010.

22
Dec
09

welcome home

(after finding a boy’s shorts in the luggage I bought home)

MUM: Beta PROTECT YOUR REPUTATION.

ME: They’re my friend’s shorts, I just borrowed them-

MUM: I used to tell your sister also. She never did anything wrong.

ME: I’m not doing anything wrong!

MUM: I don’t want any hanky panky.

03
Dec
09

unconditional

I love you for who you are

but if you were to change

I would change with you.

18
Nov
09

link

15
Nov
09

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.

08
Oct
09

objects in the mirror are closer than they appear

Jaded and confused, our heroine threw herself into work.




Recent Comments

Apoorva on days of my life
Sid on days of my life
kritika on days of my life
charlotte on happy new year
sabira on L is for the way you

 

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My writing is action/suspense, and uh, romantic melodrama with lots of comedy, of course. And, uh, deep down underneath, a substrata of social comment. Locations of visitors to this page