Thursday, October 17, 2013

To my best friend

I look at you smiling at the girl sitting next to you and I smile; because your smile makes everything alright.

I watch you stumble with what you want to say and I want to tell you that I already know.

I know she broke your heart and I want to tell you that you can keep mine.

I believe it when you say you love me and I wish you’d know the love I feel for you.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013


We were never close. I’m two years younger. But we grew up together. I never admitted that I was jealous of her prettiness, her devil-may-care attitude. I took solace in the fact that I was much more intelligent. All through our childhood we only laughed at stupid things we thought our parents said or did. We barely cared beyond what Grandma was making for lunch. Today she told me that she was getting married. I knew that she’d been talking to some guy from Australia. He is coming to visit her in a few weeks. If all went well, they would get engaged by mid-September.

I almost choked at that message. I’ve been to a million weddings. My family specialized in being part of one every year. But it has never been someone I’ve grown up with. We’ve devoured Kulfis in frilly frocks. We’ve attended family functions and secretly laughed at everyone. We’ve stealthily shared a smoke after a few beers. And now, she is ready to change her life.

It would have been okay if I’d known her closely. I’d have made natural progress in accepting her decision to ‘settle down’. Now it just hit me out of the blue. And she said she needed me there. I’m oscillating between feeling bad at not maintaining contact with her and feeling blue that people are going to peer at me, armed with the ridiculous ‘You’re next’ gleeful smiles.

I’ll never be close to her. I’m never going to maintain contact. But I do love her. I wish I knew what to wear for her engagement.

Thursday, May 2, 2013


There aren't many mornings now-a-days, when I wake up feeling inspired to write something. In fact, it’s been so long, that I've developed a rather unnatural apprehension about my writing skills. Till about a year back, I had no doubts that, if I’d pushed myself a little more, I’d have written for a living. Now, I’m not too sure. Of course, I've put all those plans on the back-burner. But whatever happened to blogging?

Everyone talks about needing discipline for writing. Heck, I even read a book recently, which had a character facing a huge block. He spoke about discipline too. But it’s me that we are talking about here. Discipline is something that I've never managed to inculcate. I’m the spawn of a delirious marriage between recklessness and haste.  No, I am not boasting. I’m working on it.

This feels good. There is a flow here. I feel good about typing. But, there is no thought. It’s just me, rambling on and on. No true writer writes for himself. That’s the biggest lie anyone can spout. You write to be read. You leave little nuggets of your soul in quiet, little paragraphs, waiting for people to spot them, and announce your genius. No, it isn't wrong. It’s just a little insight into people claiming to write for themselves.

What I’m trying to say, in too many convoluted sentences, is that I lost that confidence somewhere along the way. Nothing special happened this morning. It’s just an inner voice that was waiting to be typed out. Hope this is a new beginning.

Next time, I’ll make sure I actually have something to say.