i had a wishlist lying somewhere and one day, i got down on my knees looking for it. it had been in my heart for a very long time and suddenly i couldn't find it. i spent a good year looking for it and when i finally found it, i realised it was different from the wishlist i'd lost. i didn't know whether to cry or laugh at this change in events. i scanned the long page with a cursor in my head and realised that there were many things i had no idea how to do.
i sat down hard on my hard backed chair and pulled out a clean paper. and i picked up a pen from the drawer of my old mahagony table. i didn't know what to write, so i looked outside a window nearby. i saw my well manicured garden and my ornate gate. neither of which invoked any inspiration. i was almost astonished at this. i always prided myself in borrowing ideas (or just plainly stealing someone else's).
i walked out of the room and onto the plush blue carpetting adorning the rest of the house. my feet sunk in and it felt very warm. that, too, did nothing to inspire me. then, i came upon my large gold mirror and i ran my finger halfway around its circular surface (i am too short to run my finger all the way around).
i wandered into the large, stately rooms, the exquisite hallways, down the stairs and into the living room. i stood at the doorway of the living room and took in the division that made one half into the television area and the other into the lounging area. i slowly walked through into the dining area. before i got to the kitchen, i rushed up the stairs and sat back on my desk. remorsefully, i chided myself.
the lack of inspiration ran all around me. everything was perfect. how could i make a wishlist when everything lay produced around me; with no contribution by me. it had all been handed in a diamond platter to me.
should i want it? aceept it? or redicule it? the answer lay in that blank sheet of paper still before me. it was blank and i was going to start filling it. for i needed my wishlist.
my OWN wishlist.

i don't know, maybe, i just feel we should've never met.. there would be no parting then. rocking, on my rocking chair, i resembled an overworked pendulam. my direction of motion was decided and the choice wasn't really left to me. reaching out for my cup of tea, now cold, i felt dry remorse wash over me. my soul seemed drenched in it. at that point, i didn't really know who i was or where i was headed. the tea flowing down my throat seemed bitter. not comfortingly bitter like coffee but more like something beautiful gone rotten. i spat it out in utter disgust. everyday, people ask me to forget the memories as if it was like spitting out the tea. as if forgetting moments of the past is like spitting out something bitter that you accidently placed in your mouth.
its just as well, i am not up for an argument.
sometimes, when i have a pencil placed in between my teeth and an unfinished drawing under the tips of my fingers, i wonder if it would've been better if you had never walked in at all. i mean, suddenly, here you are in flesh and blood telling me how to live my life, or whatever that is left of it. then again, if you hadn't walked in, i wouldn't be sitting there with a pencil in my hand. or was that destiny? its all so confusing that i am left wondering as usual. i stand on the tips of my toes looking out the balcony, precariously placing the edges of my palms on the railing. the dust makes my skin slip, but, i endure on any way. does that make me stronger than i seem or is it a mere misconception? these words that come out of my fingers seem like the lyrics of your songs and the music my nails make with the keys of the board are like the beats of your songs. suddenly, one person merges into another and the two of you become one. and now, i am more confused than ever. its like i have mirrors on either side of me. and i can see me in both of you.
the rocking chair loses its balance and suddenly, i feel myself flying off the seat. i steady myself only to realise that neither of you are here and i am left alone, yet again. its like the many ends of a rope that i am desperately tying together. it is seemingly unfair, but, i've learnt from life that all is unfair. because if it was fair, then, it would be a movie. (one of those old bollywood sagas; the newer movies seem to be closer to reality) and if it were a movie it would get over in a few hours. so, it is not. neither a movie nor a few hours short. it is life. long, boring, difficult and other such things. its breathing without you. and living with you.

Suddenly, the fatigue returned within the tiny veins running through the length of my arm. None of the old memories played as experience and the very realization of not knowing chastened my heart. The dreamy and velvety curtains of desire seemed to steam away with your deception. I closed the oak door behind me only to be mocked by the blinding emptiness left behind by the footsteps now stone cold. Hopelessly, turning on the coffee maker, I realized that the machine wouldn’t fix itself. Throwing it against the wall didn’t really bring you back. Big words and painful accusations pulled us apart and drew the blinds on our life. I pen a line in the dust that had settled on the kitchen counter. The house looked the same, but my sunken eyes and chapped lips told stories of its own. The crack down the dining room wall seemed to deepen as I stared at it with a steadfast gaze. My eyes searched for the broken ashtray, not finding it, I flicked the ash into the empty champagne bottle. Everything seemed broken and empty around me. My heart felt the same.
Forever stuck in a memory, I hear your voice across the large bedroom. Its soothing sound made things feel less alien. How long will your scent stay with me? As long as the sun shines into your large brown eyes, you’d once said solemnly. It felt the same, just as yesterday. And slowly yesterday entwined into the present day, feeling dry and meaningless. Tiny droplets hung onto the window pane reminding me of days of chai and pakodas. The incessant ringing of the telephone forced irritation to flow through my blood. My throbbing headache seemed to take over my entire being. I wished hard to the mum Gods that the call would hold my mother on the other end. Any other voice would just make the hard day harder still.
It didn’t seem to matter who was on the other end of the phone; I just stood above the useless machine squinting at the fading color. I strode aimlessly to the other end of the room. I wanted the entire house to fall apart around me. I wanted the world to stop twirling on its little axis. I wanted to drink away all the misery. I wanted to feel the poison run down my throat. Destructive thoughts struck through my mind and ripped my torn heart. It feels like I forgot your love, because I can’t feel its warmth inside me anymore. I feel cold and alone. Left vulnerable, yet again. Tiny fragments of your existence haunt me as I fall asleep only to open my eyes to painful sunshine and an empty pillow. The silken white sheets no longer feel dipped in crimson regret. Stained by bleak desire, they fall motionless around my frozen feet.
If I could;
I would;
Close my eyes and fall into the black hole of raw love.

i was sitting last night in the house that i am finally leaving. i remember clearly, the day i had walked into this house. i was elated at the beauty the house brought into my life. it was all so perfect. slowly the nuances of the house and the people living in it came alive before me. i closed my eyes and tried to remember the first few days. i remembered the days when all of us used to make chocolate in our little kitchen with the jelly setting in the tiny fridge. drying the clothes in the large backyard and carelessly enjoying the sunshine whilst sitting on the swing in the frontyard. the tiny plants, the beautiful flowers, all of it came alive right before my eyes. after all the fights and issues i'd been through in these four walls, i realised for the first time that i would miss it terribly. images of my new life sped before me and i wasn't too sure if i was ready for the drastic change.
i had come to the realisation that living with a person tells you a lot more about them than many years of friendship can. i learnt gradually that my room mates had good as well as bad points. it took me a long while to accept thier habits and preferences. is it the same with marriage?
the man you love so much may turn out to be a completely different person. this thought set a flame of fear in my heart and made me think of my new life. the life that awaited me. i am on my way to live with my best friend. but, how much do i know about the person i chose to live with? how long do i have to wait outside the loo? who will pick up the morning paper? which side of the bed will i have to sleep on? will i get to choose the side? questions like these played around in my head.
i don't know how sensible my fears are, but, they are what they are.

belated happy new year and belated merry christmas to all who bother coming this way.
not much happening on the personal front that is worthy of a journal entry. i just stopped by for the season's greetings. yes, i do realise that the season is long gone. but, well, guess that is just how i am.
wish everyone the very best in the new year and whatever little joy those old traditions bring.
good luck, stay alive, and stay happy. (if that isn't asking for too much!)

-3D