Monthly Archives: May 2009


Call me a sentimental fool, but I just finished reading “Summer Sisters” by Judy Blume, and yes, it made me cry. The fact is, between worries, and melodrama, and the impossibilities of relationships, I hardly ever think about friendships. For me, they have always been just… well, sorry to sound so brutal, but since I’m supposed to be telling the truth here- they’ve always been sort of like holiday romances, or affairs in foreign countries.

Simply put, my affection and love for my friends is, simply put, guided most of the time by those lines from “The Kite Runner”- “for you, a thousand times over”. It’s not something I’m proud of, trust me. Being loyal in friendships is very troublesome most of the time, especially for yourself. And sometimes, most of the times, sometimes.. you tend to be taken for granted. But it’s generally very easy to be loyal- all you have to do is give the friend the same place as you have in your priority list.

However, this tenacious loyalty only lasts till someone is around. To put it in other words, I care about my friends a lot till I lose touch with them, and since I’m not a phone person, nor an e-mail person, that happens a lot as and when I move around. But then again, if someone was very close to me, one thing is always a certainty. If ever, in a decade’s time even, they announce themselves unexpectedly in whatever shack I’m living in, they’ll be welcome. Or if I run into them somewhere, since I really don’t have the energy to find out who wins in the “who has done better since the last time we met” game, I’ll be the same as I was before. Although to be fair to my better side, this may be a tendency of the past, since I seem to be showing signs of attachment to many of my friend. I may be growing soft… besides the point.

Alright, if not a per current circumstances, then at least according to past ones, you can see the wisdom in the comparison to holiday romances- they’re great and brilliant as long a they last; but afterwards, they’re just names of people, and great memories in photographs.

But since I finished this book, I know that even for a commitment-phobe such a myself, some things last longer.

Some friendships will last, as I know mine with my friend will. And the only reason they last is because you absolutely refuse to let it go under any circumstances. Because sometimes, no matter what the world makes of you, and what you make of yourself, you know somewhere inside you – that friend alone knows the real you.

The friend that broke your heart too many times to count. The one who didn’t let you go even when you would have loved to be let go of. The one that saw you moon over characters in books and movies you may never admit to anyone else you liked. The one to whom you told the truth about that crush- that it was way longer than two weeks (my general record time) and you were a bit more into it than you let on to everybody else. The one you were slightly jealous of, and who may have been slightly jealous of you. With whom, the jealousy still exist very slightly – you both love each others life –  but you both know about it and love each other all the more for it.

You know you will hold on to this friend and will never let them get away, just like they never let you go. And all for one simple reason- sometimes, you just have to admit that inside, you are the person you were when you were seventeen. Silly, stupid, intelligent, superficial, pompous, sad, chirpy, depressed, lonely, whatever. And the friend becomes your link, maybe even your last link to the person you used to be, and still are. Reason being, that they love that person while most other don’t even know about it.


the family just gots madder

Here’s the report as per a few hours before right now, on my family’s madness :-

  • One of my great-aunt’s took me aside and told me to tell yall Hindus and Muslims that it’s a very sad fact that no matter what you do, all of yall are going to hell. Yes, she was quite serious about it. Also, she advised me to sever ties with yall or I was very likely going to join you in the afterlife in the sauna. My response, for those who are wondering- “if god is that stupid and unfair, I don’t think I want to join his club.”
  • My grandmother agrees with the former mentioned lady, and further wishes I would join the beautiful tradition I have been blessed enough to be born into, and leave the heathens I currently associate with. My response – roll eyes and increase volume of the T.V. or the music system.
  • My grandfather (who to be fair did this only because he was senile) accused me and my sister of prostitution. “I know what girls do outside after 6 o’clock in the evening.” My response- nothing because I was the one who was out till 9 that evening.
  • My dad is an atheist commi six days a week, self declaredly. On the seventh, i.e. Sunday, he goes to church with my mum, enjoys the music, finds a bit of hope for the world and comes back. Well, the idea might be smart but it is a bit mad. My response- it’s confused but I suppose I can’t blame him.
  • My sister is completely confused about the whole god-religion thing.
  • In many ways, I don’t care about God much even though I’m a strong believer in the concept. I don’t think God” gives a shit if you believe or not. Some people might call that mad..

Current status after aconversationin the past 2-3 hours:-

  • My mom, who is a catholic from Pala, Kottayam, denies the idea that her ancestors were dalits. She says they were Brahmins. And she finds it insulting if people say the former.

Seriously, HOW did I end up being even THIS normal??


Posted by on May 13, 2009 in Family, Fun!, Rant


diary of a commitment phobiac un/happily-unlucky-in-all-things-related-to-love

I’ve not written here for a while and now I suddenly feel like it. Being away from nalsar and 24 hour internet I reflected in this absence from cyber world.

I’ve been spending my time watching t.v. (something I haven’t done for four months), and reading lovely fiction (again, the same). Also, been watching the supply of movies I brought home for the summer.

Unfortunately, all of this, for someone like me ends up in questions and more questions about one thing- love. Oh the endless potential in the endless number of questions that can be asked about that simple irritating four-letter world, that try as you may, you just cannot forget.

Calvin, from “Calvin and Hobbes” once said, “I think at night, things are darker so that we can imagine our fears with no distractions”. So really it’s no wonder that it is at night, and when you’re alone that the nagging doubt about things creeps in.

In a group it is amazingly simple and easy to believe that you can beat life and its tricks, that it’s curveballs and fireworks, and the consequent burns can all be avoided if you self-protect enough. It is easy to believe, when you have people around you who expect you to be weaker than you are emotionally, that you are in fact stronger than you actually are. From very recent experience, I can gather, it is sort of like the feeling a person with a high tolerance for alcohol believes themselves to be stronger than they actually are when surrounded by people who don’t have their actual capacity.

And so, when you are alone, after yet another day of mocking the people in the movies you watched that day, the characters of the book you read, the friends who cried to you (this done silently), you lie back in your bed, satisfied, and think- they are hurt, messed up people, while you are fine and don’t feel like a piece of you has been taken away. But then, because it is night, and because you are alone, and because somewhere inside you, you’re just a very scared person, the other voice creeps in and says, “But I bet if you ask them they’ll say it’s been worth it. To have given love and happiness a shot, many shots. I bet, while they may feel like a piece of them ha been taken away, it will soon be right back with them, or it will be replaced. You, on the other hand still feel, like you always did, as though you’re the missing piece, as if there has been something missing, not taken, but missing, that you’ve never dared to reach out to.”

…..I have never felt much of anything in the way of romance and love my entire life. Not once. I’ve had my crushes, but I often think of my crushes as conveniences. Whenever it was convenient to have a crush on someone, I had a crush.  The only time I actually felt like it was supposed to, according to the books and the movies- heart beating, butterflies, the works- was my first crush in 7th class. That ended in four months (my longest crush ever). Other than that guy, I’ve never actually really liked anyone in a slightly crazy way which is necessary if you really like someone. In fact, I’ve never actually known any of the guys I had crushes on except for that first one……

Then you come back to your senses and realize – there was nothing to reach out to. Sadly enough, your life was THAT empty of any opportunity to the evanescent feeling of love. And you wonder, will it ever happen? Will anything or anyone ever bring that look in your eyes, that is there in every good love story there is – perhaps the only thing that is common in all true love stories. The only real life person who I’ve seen with that look is one of our family friends when he was talking to his wife who was dying of cancer. You can be cynical and say the guy was appreciating her since she was dying, but I know this man loved his wife. If anything was true love, that was.

Not that you’ll rise to the occasion but will you at least get the chance to screw it up and then talk about it endlessly to adoptive grandchildren (by the time you’re 30, maybe you’ll get over your hatred for kids), cats, or dogs.

Well, that’s all for now…