Faith

Mum-occupied in one of her favourite activities- flipping through magazines.
Four feet seven inches of cuteness, ferocity and kindness wrapped into one. Pinky aka, My Kashmiri Apple, Pupee, Baby aka Amma, and I at Kasbah. No wonder, I am so fascinated by cuteness, grew up around too much of it! This much cuteness, should be a punishable offence.

Stepping into the last month of the year with a little hope and faith in the future. This is me…just telling myself that, hoping I’ll feel like it. Fake it…till you make it. The past two years have been trying, so has the past week but one will hopefully bounce back, with a ferocity that is genetic. You should have met what (not who but what) I came out of…on her worst days, she was the wildest thing, you could have laid eyes on! I pale in comparison and how…not as nice ( opposite of it actually), not as pretty ( my Kashmiri apple..I used to call her that…was too cute) and not as ferocious, either. Sometimes, I am saddened by how little of that people remember, I guess like my brother’s memories, her escapades too shall disappear with me. What she did for others, everyone remembers, which is lovely but what made her so unique, is albeit a distant memory!

A few things popped up, today. Someone shared a meme, about mums and then there was news of someone passing away…which made me touchy because, well, somethings remind me of my mom, plus, like they say, one thinks too much and feels too much, which sometimes, also means one ends up saying too much which I guess, I shouldn’t. Having a few of those days, when I have had to filter my impulses, hide and delete them, knowing there’s no point in reacting! Have to learn to keep my feelings and words in check! Someone, should pack me off to Kashmir every two months, to calm down! Unfortunately, I am here and all the gorgeousness of the autumn there!

Death-Ashes to ashes, baby, dust to dust. I’ll be forgotten in two hours but the rest of you, too shall become someone, somebody knew. Remembered, once in a while by someone who loved you. Hmmm, or if you have a traumatic ending like I hope to have, you might become an example. Aise karoge to uss ki tarah banjoge! Dude, in a world full of nice be the freaking aberration!- Saadiyaism, I should term my nonsense, utterances !

My ideal, death scenario- dying in car, on an open highway, with the wind blowing through my hair…hopefully, fingers crossed, in Kashmir. About me, they shall say-‘Aaj tak kissi di gal nahi, sunni iss kuddi ne! Hun dekho aee ki hogaya!’ Here’s hoping, one remains a cocky little shit, till one’s dying day! That’s something to look forward to!