If you annoyed my little cousins, they will most likely come up to you and draw a cross mark with their index on the palm of your hands.. When they play House, they would trace a line on the ground with their tiny feet to divide their stuff..

Simply because in their world, an imaginary line or drawing has a certain finality that cannot be reckoned with. So you are forced to believe that it is there, when really, it is not there at all. 

The written word

When it rains so hard you can barely see, when the wind hits your face and makes you cry for all things you did or should have done.. When it's too cold to go out for a walk and clear your head, when all you need is coffee and some alone time.. 

Seek the written word.

Find solace there. Contemplate. Read, and be jealous that you did not come up with something as brilliant. Beauty lies right there.. In appreciating what’s in front of you and aiming to be half as good even if you can never be. These moments of living somewhere that is not here.. It’s beautiful and it takes you to places you’ve never been.

By Default

The sounds are so faint. They have started fading in the background ever so quickly yet you cannot hear yourself. It should be easy, you think. This. It should be easy. But things never turn out the way they seemed to be in the beginning.

It gets hard around here.

You feel pressured, stressed and constantly worried about the next screw up, about something going wrong and then you worry about fixing it till you get it done. Once that is out of the way, more things follow. And you find yourself between this and that, hardly ever listening to yourself thinking. 

All you hear is chaos.

Interrupted conversations.

Missed signals. 

Then you worry about all this too. You also worry about worrying. You worry that if you are worried too much it is going to get your spirits down then you worry that being optimistic will only mean getting your hopes crushed with disappointments. And then some more. But when all this clears out, when you are no longer in confusion, things become crystal clear. Things start to take shape, come into focus and align perfectly in front of you.

For how long though?

Mere minutes. It does not stretch for long. Moments of absolute clarity are always fleeting. They just vanish out of sight before you could even let out a sigh. Yet you stand there, confused. Not knowing whether to feel happy or worried. But because that’s what you have been doing for so long..

You become worried again. By default.

Why you write, and why you stop writing.

You write because you want to read your thoughts. You want to see them embodied on paper. You write because there is something you want to say. You write because even if there is no one listening, you would have still said it somehow. You write because when people fail you, words remain visible. Clear. Those journals? They account for something that happened once and might not happen again. You write because you want to hang onto the memories that faded away so long ago that it feels like they were never there to begin with. With the curve of each letter, emotions were stirred. With each set of ellipses used; a hesitation. A pause. Moments of deep thoughts. Of belief and doubt and everything in between.

And then you stop writing.

You stop writing because what you write suddenly becomes too much. You stop writing because you realise it does not do you any good, if anything, it engulfs you in this little bubble whose walls became so thick that you can see them. You stop writing because the way out was never the way in. You stop because the words.. Your words.. They hurt. They hurt to look at, to think about. They hurt because you are constantly reminded of what could have been but hadn't.


If piles of nonexistent letters could exist, then it'd be those I'd never written.


What if every time you can't make a choice, you refer to a manual. A guidebook that is alphabetically categorised with possible situations which start with ifs. You just flip through the pages in a hurry, find a solution and you act accordingly.. 

But it's never that easy.

Even if you do exactly as it said, not missing a single step.. There are so many variables that are going decide whether the thing you have done is good or bad, stupid or wise. 

Till you find out, keep turning. 

Of Mistakes

The thing about mistakes is that they loom down on you when you least want them to. They hover around; remaining still and silent. It does not matter if you tried so hard not to think about them, it does not matter how long you have tried to accept them, they will still be there. A wound as fresh as new.

Of Now

I am writing this because I got tired.
3:45 AM

I hug her and because her eyes started to water, I don’t cry. Goodbye, I say, tell them I'm gonna miss them.

I am happy. How could I not be when everything I ever dreamed of is coming to life? This is it, I think. I am really doing it.

And then I leave.

I leave and everything I ever held for granted flies away as I am soaring in the clouds.

2:23 PM

It is cold. I drag what links me back, I walk fast and get in. Things start to move and I make it a point to take in every new sight this time and now.

15 Minutes Later…

I am here. And I sign all those papers and pay for my stay and get in my room.


Just like that, I am here. I moved to Glasgow on the 17th of October 2012.  It has not been easy. When you make a choice as big as this, they do not tell you anything. They do not tell you that you are going to miss home so much that you feel empty inside. They do not tell you that on certain days you are going to feel so lonely that you would crave hearing the voice of someone, so you call your parents. You call your siblings. You call anyone who is willing to listen and talk to you, because you are tired of not talking. They do not tell you that there will be days where you question yourself, where you start doubting and stop believing in yourself because things do get tough around here. They do not tell you that you have to fight back if you are right, and even if you were not, you would still have to fight. They do not tell you that all this requires serious amount of effort and confidence and strength. They do not tell you all this, and you do not tell yourself other than the things that will make you want this so bad until you get here. You would think it is all about being independent, about having fun and going out whenever you want, no restrictions. No, you would not think about how much you will miss being told what to do, being taken care of, just being without actually worrying. You will not know what worry is. You have never been worried. You will not know that the moment your head touches the pillow, millions of thoughts start racing. They are not silly thoughts, no, they are the ones that are going to make your day tomorrow or ruin it. You have to plan ahead, you will have to know and do things you have never done before. Most importantly, they do not tell you that you will learn all this on your own.

Thus, you continue learning.

Meeting Jodi Picoult

This place is so dusty. Many things have changed in 2012; I finished school, got a scholarship and I am now in the UK studying HR. Life is funny that way. One minute you think you're not gonna make it and the next you're right where you always wanted to be. 

I met my favourite author on the 2nd of April.

What can I say about Jodi Picoult?

Her stories leave you sleepless, they haunt you and make you question everything. They also disappoint you in the end, but you will learn later why things ended the way they did. Her stories start with a what-if question. One of the audience asked her if her stories are character or issue driven. Her answer was that even though her stories discuss an issue, her characters usually have a voice of their own. She said it's like she is their medium, she just writes what they say. 

To meet such a talented writer was always a dream of mine. And to be able to hear her speak so passionately about writing was an amazing experience.