Snap out of it

‘Rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.’

It’s strange how patterns reappear in a person’s life. It’s the Universe’s way of telling you to sort yourself out. Some may look at them as punishments and others as do overs. I think the Universe…Karma…God (whatever you call the trip you’re on) are quite gracious with chances. One’s always believed- Tu nahi to koi aur sahi, koi aur nahi to koi aur sahi. You can either have the mentality of scarcity or of abundance. One has to choose, at some point to either follow the trodden path, be afraid that if one screws up, everything will come to an end or to say ‘well, back to drawing board…let’s begin again!’

I think the latter, is more fun, no? It’s a life long adventure. ‘ Subject is prone to dealing with things through hit and trial method’ says the psychological profiling! Well, just read a synopsis of subject’s life and know there are more misses than hits but it has been one helluva ride. One got a great kick on my butt, recently or like my friend’s say, ‘someone pricked your ego and we’ve been waiting for that to happen, for months, so that you’ll snap out of this depressive mind frame’. Someone, I’ve known for almost three decades, called up around a month ago and said all kinds of stuff to me but the best thing he did for me, was he uttered these words. ‘ You’re having such a hard time, I think in a couple of years, you must move out of Delhi!’ In that moment, I didn’t think much of it. I just went, ‘ya, ya, we’re thinking about taking up a place in Goa.’ I’ve always wanted a getaway home, but Kashmir is an impossibility now. It’s too unsafe. So, one should be looking at getting a place in Kochi or Goa, at some point, in time.

Of course, as I get to know, how I get to know things, I did get to know what the intentions were. But it made me think- if at the lowest ebb of your life, the people you have surrounded yourself with, your entire life, ask you to run, there’s something off there. So, you got to take a fine tooth comb and run it through your existence and figure shit out. Now, a lot of people who’ve known me a long time, also say the exact opposite of what they want me to do ( my fault, I’m like a rebellious child: one usually does the exact opposite of what I’m told) so then again I need to re-examine my behaviour. Now, if I take the words on face value, that means I’ve surrounded myself with people who can’t face crap and so they are giving me advice based on what they would do! Which means I got to re-examine my choices in life. Irrespective, of what it may be, intense self reflection is obviously required.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m an eternal escapist! You should see me, when I come face to face with a man who likes me and wants to commit. I’ll run in every possible direction. But at some point you got to catch the bull by the horns. At some point you got to let your past mistakes make you wiser and not bitter. Months of therapy and almost two years of being stuck in my head, didn’t help me as much as, those kind or not so kind words did. Rebuild baby…rise!

An Ode To A Love That Shouldn’t Have Been

Let’s pretend this is a monologue akin to the many you and I have indulged in, where I would speak/write and get no response. It’s not a complaint, you get what you give and many who knew me before you, would accuse me of the same kind of non reactiveness that can drive another person nuts.

‘ I’ll get over it when the fat lady sings!’, I kept telling myself. I didn’t know, it would take so long and I hear it’s going to happen, soon. Somebody popped on my friend’s suggestion on FB and I figured from the common friends: that’s who it is! She seems sweet- like you and tailor made, to adjust to the family. After all these years, this seems to be the best time to really let you go. I’ve held on to you- clung to you for dear life, ever since I met you. Not just during all those years, when we knew each other but up until, now. Was I hoping you would come back? Na, I knew that was an impossibility. Did I want you to? Not as a man in my life- I’m going to end up with someone who looks at me like I’m a Christmas tree and I loved you too much, for me to fake a friendship. Can’t be friends with exes you carry residual love for, that’s just asking for trouble. So, I didn’t know why I wasn’t letting you go!

Up until, I trekked up to a water fall, with someone who knew you and we ended up having a chat about how wonderful you are! It turns out to be guilt. Yup, I hate to admit it, love yes, but more guilt. You would assume, that it’s because of how it ended but it’s not, because for that I have to feel guilty about a love that saved me from drowning…it’s for the way it started. The beginning they say determines the end. In our case it was just as terrible!

The onus of the disaster, that was unfortunately your first real relationship, will always be on me. They say, ‘Talli do hathon se bajti he!’ Na, when you’re in a relationship with a child and I don’t mean in terms of age ( well you were twenty and I was twenty five) but in terms of mindset, sheltered upbringing and barely any real exposure to women, the responsibility of not getting into it, is on you. But you were just so raw and cute, like a rugged version of Diljit Dosanjh right out of a pind. ‘ Tujse naraz nahi zindagi, heran hu mein?’ would play on mind, sometimes when I would look at you. Innocent and how! We were so different and yet you were so perfect, that inspite of my gut instinct telling me to run in the opposite direction, I just couldn’t.

How much Dustu, tried to explain to me, that I was just replacing him with you, like my maternal instincts have always been off the chart and I needed someone to mother. But I didn’t and you already had too many maternal figures. It’s not like all my options weren’t open at that time…it’s not like you were the most handsome man I ever laid eyes on. You weren’t the smartest or the richest either, like people have accused me. In fact, I would have had to adjust to your lifestyle, when I met you. But you were the kindest man I’d met and you were as nice to people who had less as you were to people who had more. That’s priceless. You didn’t smoke, you didn’t drink, you prayed and loved everyone. Plus, I’d always had a thing for mumma’s boys. They say, we look for what we aren’t in a partner and that’s what you were, the exact opposite- nice, kind, stable and most importantly came with a loving family. The black sheep had finally found the chunga munda, with ironically fair skin ( you know how obsessed my family is with it).

I ofcourse never got the same approval ratings from yours but I never have ( other than twice)…that’s on me, not on them. Plus, after loosing Dustu and especially after loosing Mum, I can understand their fear. My Dad, is as paranoid about someone enticing me for the wrong reasons. Did it all make me feel really insecure and undesired? Yes! Did the fact that it was never really a ‘let’s meet my friends’ or ‘this is my partner’ or lack of pubic display, make me really uneasy and unsure? Yes! Did the lack of intimacy, make it worse? Yes! Did the pressure after Dustu get to me? Yes! Is that an excuse? No.

I should have walked out and I did try. Right after the Singapore trip, I did call it quits. But it seems it was never really off the table. Not completely and totally. So it was complicated and screwed up and I should have been stronger and wiser. But I wasn’t! I was desperate, you were my last chance at redemption, it seems. The bad girl found the good boy and had a happy ending. But she couldn’t because her happy ending was supposed to be by herself!

My regret comes from corrupting you. You were a nice boy, who did the right things and thought the right way when I met you and I saw you transform into a man I couldn’t recognise. I wish it would have been for the better. My instability, I always feel rubbed off on you, while we were together. You couldn’t make me like you but I did make you a little like myself. That’s why I regret it. I regret I met you, not because of what it did to my life. My life would have ended this way, in any case. It’s what it did to yours! The one good thing is that through it all, I was brutally honest! You couldn’t stand to hear the things I had to say and I couldn’t take the things you hid! I did very dramatically, curse you for it, the last time I stormed out of your house, ‘ I know, you know and God knows what you did! It doesn’t matter what the world says…we’ll see how it goes!’ When I heard how things ended for you, I felt bad I said that. When I saw you last…you seemed to be the ghost of the boy, I once knew. That boy who hit me on my forehead to show affection, laughed uncontrollably, had to be held back by four men during a fight and listened to loud Punjabi music, the boy I looked at and thought, ‘ those are the best genes for my babies’….I will always love that boy but he no longer, exists. He grew up to be someone else. But the rest of you…I’m letting go off. I hope somewhere in the future , a few decades down the line…we can be friends. May new love bring you luck, a sense of direction, stability, the ability to take a stand and make you the best version of yourself. Love and light…now and forever.

P.S- you’ll probably not see this for years to come. But someday, when we’ll be old and grey, we’ll be sharing a drink and reading this. You surrounded by your family and I’ll probably be with a few cats.

Soul Searching

After months of therapy, one realized that the only way to get over one’s antisocial ways, is to take the plunge and just jump into the pot. Excuse my language ( or not) that’s what most public gatherings feel like to moi, as if I’m being thrown into a pot of boiling oil, nothing about it will leave one unscarred.

But turns out I was wrong. I head out on a journey will thirty eight people…some of them I knew but to one, everyone seems like a stranger, these days. Was it smooth sailing…not really, it never is…even as a child I kept to oneself. With age, that hasn’t changed very much, plus, I understand the world as little as it seems to understand me, I guess. My mask is all pokey and right there in everyone’s faces to see, their masks…don’t exist. My brutal honesty seems too harsh and their best foot forward, makes me highly suspicious of most people. So, one does tend to stand out like a sore thumb.

Having said that, this was the best place to be a sore thumb. The spiritually inclined, may be as corrupted as us lesser mortals but some are more accepting of people’s flaws. Some of them tend to take us lost souls, under their wings and connect with us on a deeper level, others not so much. But if you don’t throw yourself into the mix, you do miss out on experiences and learnings that are essential to one’s healing and growth. One’s wept more than one has in the past year. A lovely soul, conducted a water meditation and so much of one’s pent up emotions just came to the surface. For a change SC, who remains well hidden, came out to play. So a few people actually told me that, ‘I’m so nice’. Nice, is the last adjective anyone would use to describe me. Eccentric, stubborn as an ox, moody, bitchy, flirtatious, muhfat, badtameez, yes, nice…absolutely not! Then I figured it’s the CJM, thing. Anyone whose been educated in a convent school, will say thank you, sorry, will reach out to help…it’s our natural instinct, it’s like we are on auto pilot mode. It’s the Convent upbringing, like CJMites discuss, which has been drilled into us by the nuns. Nice people on the other hand, will do stuff they don’t want to do and they’ll be polite. One’s anything but. To get a yes out of me, for anything is seriously tough. I didn’t shoot the entire trip, even if people asked me to, I couldn’t. I’m blocked. I was there for something else and I got lots of that. Met a couple of people, who were so generous with their time and healing, that it really helped me.

On the other hand, barring the healing I had a good time, too. One has always had more male friends, I work with more men, teach more men, hang around them, sit like them and think a lot like them. They say, every man has a feminine side and each woman has a masculine side. Mere andar ek chichora 14 saal ka ladka he, jo kabhi bada nahi ho sakta aur mere andar ki aurat sou rahee he. One avoids drinking too much these days because one tends to get very emotional. Alcoholism in any case runs in the family and one’s emotionally fraught. But this was a ‘safe space’, so one drank and smoked, a bit, chilled out…met some people I absolutely adored, instinctively. I met someone, who reminded me of my Dad…totally bindaas, flirtatious and opinionated. A much older friend of mine, would very sweetly hold onto my hand, whenever I met him, at this bookstore and tell me how, men never really grow up. Then I saw men of all ages, under one roof and realised that neither they nor I will ever grow up!

The older women too, were precious. They were a bit concerned about my smoking, which I thought was really sweet….koi hakk jamata he tokne ka, to iss ka matlab he unko farak padta he aap ka. In an indifferent world, concern is a precious gift. I don’t smoke infront of my Dad, though he knows that I do…I didn’t want to infront of them, either. Some consider it hypocrisy, I don’t. A gentle soul also made me realize, how little I’ve been touched in the past year. I think the first night when we were talking, he just touched my arm, I kept backing off. I was so afraid, that if someone held onto me long enough, I would burst into tears.

By the end of the trip, people were sitting on my lap…forget touching, I was hugging. God, it’s been a while! But the real reason, I think God, made me go on this trip was because I needed to see mothers and daughters together and cry to sleep every night. I was supposed to get up each morning and somehow drag myself into a room full of people, when all I wanted to do was crawl under a freaking rock. I was supposed to bump into people who somehow knew my ex and have them discuss what went wrong with other people. The assumption being what went wrong was an older man! Wrong guess! I was supposed to realize that ‘if you found the perfect man and you fucked it up, you realize you’re just bad at relationships! So why waste anytime on them.’ As soon as I said that to a stranger, while we were trekking up to a waterfall, it occurred to me that, maybe I need imperfect and flawed like myself and not a nice, ideal man!

I realized I may know myself very well, in fact they say one’s- ‘too aware and forthcoming of one’s flaws’ but one’s not very accepting of them. I learnt that I got to stop apologising for my privileges. One can’t go through life, underplaying it to make other people comfortable or to feel safer, around them. I saw the best of human nature- besides the fun and frolic, kindness- people I barely spoke to through out the trip, looking out for me, as my blood pressure fluctuated and I felt sick on the bus and making sure I was well taken care off…making sure I wasn’t left behind. This trip, has kept my Dad on the edge. He’s seen me go through so many boys in my teenage years without blinking an eyelid, but after mum and last year’s disaster, he’s suddenly very worried, some man will entice me, into marriage as if I’m an eighteen year girl. Well, I prefer technology for now. Hassle free, no complications, good at getting the job done and someday, I’ll find my Mr Right, who will be a robot!

Happy Diwali


Happy Diwali Pinky, my Kashmiri Apple! I know you prefer these terms of endearment, complimenting your cute looks to Amma. I was standing outside the house yesterday, checking out your floor- where the renovation is being completed and one of the neighbours said to me-‘ Every time I see you standing outside, I think to myself- she looks just like her mother.’ Aww, ‘andhera kumbh gera’ looks like you! It maybe because I was wearing one of our twinning outfits ( you thought I was being silly buying the same outfits for us but I think they look sweet. I’ll make sure my babies and I wear identical outfits on Diwali). I miss you so much!When someone blesses me or compliments any of SC’s qualities, I miss you terribly. ‘ My Amma, was like that and so much more!’ I think to myself. How sweet you were! They tell me, I hide a heart like yours behind walls of wrath, they have no clue how loving and forgiving you were!

If you were here, you would have looked at how much of an asshole, I’m behaving like and would have yelled, ‘Diyaaa stop behaving like a bitch!’ and we would have burst into peels of laughter. Now, I get angry, write trash in a fit of anger (because I don’t know what else to do) and a couple of hours later think, ‘Wow! My mum would be so disappointed in me, right now!’ then I change the settings, so that, I don’t forget my weakest moments. Hopefully, they’ll make me stronger, someday. If you were here, to everything that was happening your reply would have been ‘let it be’. But I’m yet to take a dip in the Sarovar and ask God to help me control my fury, like you. How violent and uncontrollable you were, uff, you were scary as hell, before that! It seems like, I have replaced all emotions with anger-sadness, fear, anxiety, pain…my one stop solution, is to blow off the handle. I better learn to control this excessive passion, that we all seem to suffer from before I adopt any babies because no one should be exposed to this. ‘Be a monster and then learn to control it. That’s where real strength comes from!’ says JP. Well, I don’t need to try being one but I got to learn how to control it, soon.


Since one has been absolutely unwilling to shoot, transforming Amma’s floor has been one’s favourite pastime. Now, that it’s almost done, will have to figure out another distraction.