How Have I Been?

For a while, I had forgotten that my blog existed. I started journalling. But those pages in a closed book cannot beat the comfort of this space, and the ease with which I can type here.

How have I been? I could use some terms to describe. I have been dissociated, zoned out and quite honestly, a little lost. I am not at all missing the irony here.

People ask me that do I maintain a blog. I generally link them to my Instagram, which holds everything and everyone dear to me. This space seems like that far-off island on my bucket list where I wish to go someday.

My boss tells me that if I clear my head out, the writing will also sort itself. Honestly, I don’t know if that day will ever come. I am just not in a great mood, and probably, I will take this on, if I have something of substance to say.


Ek Ladki Out Of The Closet

The thing about curiosity is that it makes you trudge around all the spaces that come with a not-visible-but-there ‘No Entry’ sign. I remember as a child, one of my good friends and I used to play a lot of dolls. But one afternoon, we happened to share a peck. It was that innocent thing that little girls do. She told her mother about it, and next day, she said, “My mom says that all this leads to AIDS, so let’s not do it again.” This hardly meant anything, but the memory of this incident has always remained with me.

We attach so much shame to an expression of love. The irony of it still seems to stir me up. If one memory could do this for me, imagine a life lived inside that closet. Most people look at homosexuality as an illness. It is a slight wiring problem in the head, tackled with different potions. It is an issue that the collective of Ayurveda, Allopathy, Homeopathy and any other branch of healing claim to heal, not forgetting the cures brandished by God men for this ‘ailment”.

Bollywood also does not leave its chance in adding to this milieu of shame, irony and hypocrisy. From jokes to superficial representation, most film makers use the LGBTQIA community to its fullest to illicit laughter. But amidst this ruckus of slapstick humour, we have another perspective. Something communicated through lingering silences. A stolen glance. A clasp of hands that is powerful enough to defy convention or take it along to the new-age world, and give it a much-needed overhaul.

When it comes to the closet, people want to look everywhere but inside it. There are stories languishing, in search for a hand that supports their journey outside of it. Ek Ladki Ko Aisa Laga does a wonderful job in playing the role of that hand. I am no film critic, neither do I know the technicalities, but the movie has its heart in the right place. Sure there is room for improvement, but this movie, not only does it deserve our eyes and ears, but hearts too.

Of everything that I have known and understood about this universe-sized emotion called love, I know one thing. It is a garden, which is home to all kinds of plants. They need nurturing and nourishing so that more colours get added to this world. This movie is definitely the catalyst to the dialogue that needs to be kick started in our living rooms. One that should have started long ago.

The closet is wide. Even though 377 is history, what still remains is the gaze. One that pierces through anything that is not typical. And now that Ek Ladki has walked out of the closet, those voices will find a world attuned to their note, maybe more receptive to their song.


You know healing is not easy. The act of it requires you to stand up, gather yourself piece by piece and take a stride. The weight might affect your walk, but you have to keep trying and fighting. And that is what I am trying to do.

I had forgotten that I had ‘The Artist’s Way’ in my closet. And just yesterday, I discovered it again. I want to really give it a try. I am certain somewhere it will help me understand some things, if not everything. That is also some progress.

I abandon such initiatives a lot. But this time, I really want to give it a try? Do any of you want to give it a shot? Please do let me know in the comments.



2016 was not an easy year. I had to let go of someone really special. He meant the world to me. I don’t care if I have to use cliches to describe our bond. It is just amazing how one person can make you feel so special and so wanted. Our break-up was such that till now this sense of loss had not seeped in. But now it has started to find its way through my insides. In three years, I had charted out our lives for the next thirty years. And now there is a very real and strong possibility that none of this will ever come to life. All of these thoughts will just find some place in my art. 

This year, maybe love for my own self can fill in this void. No secret rendezvous or some fling can match up to the power of those three years. For the first time, I am writing without any concern for the way my craft is flowing. 

Everyday in the morning I resolve that today I will be strong. I won’t see his profile or our chat. But by the day end, all that resolve finds itself in a drain. I gave the last of me to him. How can I really put myself together? My art just reduces the intensity of that pain, but it never really takes it all away from me. 

I try to find him everywhere and I am just restless all the damn time. I just want to be so strong that I am not crippled by this pain, and I can take a big stride ahead, hoping that he will be at the destination. 

To the girl who hides behind ‘I am okay’

I won’t ask you how have you been. I know, no matter how close I am to you, you will still put a curtain around you. I will tell you something. Even that extra coat of gloss won’t make your smile seem longer and fuller. That Kohl you put with such dedication, that won’t help in hiding eyes that have not been sleeping. The forced stride in your steps will not hide the shards that have crushed your heart.

You hold that phone with such a force, hoping that the next response will help you find that missing smile. You listen to ‘Koi Faryaad’ and ‘Tere Bin’ hoping that the tears will find their way out from the vault. But you know what? For now, exist. Don’t live. Hold yourself while the tornado is done ravaging everything around you. It has got its eye on you. It will slam you with sly moves while you put up that fight. Save some of it.

And you know what will help you sail through it? YOU. You are your own army, your own commander, everything. People have battles to pick and fight. They will not be a commander in your fight. They might even try to poach you for their battle because of your wonderful ability of bouncing back after every punch.

You have every weapon you need in your inventory. You don’t need fake assurances from two-faced turds.

I know how much you loved Iqbal particularly your belief that if you watch this movie before every exam, you will fare well. Remember that scene where Naseruddin shah says, “Dimaag aur dil jab ek saath kaam karte hai na … toh farak nahi padta hai ki dimaag kaunsa hai aur dil kaunsa hai.” You have got the two greatest weapons within you, why seek solace from someone who thinks of you as an object.

Dear girl, I could tell you more. But I will leave you with this hoping that you don’t find someone to talk to with an unsettling fervour, and rely on your own devices. You are a miracle of this universe, why be someone’s unnamed exploit?

Love- D

Don’t fall in love

You know what? Don’t fall in love. Just because that baggage will have a dimple or an eye colour that has caught your fancy, don’t let your guard down. Don’t fall into the trap of lies being serenaded as the truth. You will plummet into misery, and this fall will be so painful that even a Phoenix will not be able to rescue you. Don’t fall in love. Its promise will make you walk the extra mile. And the destination will be a dead end. When you look towards your side, you are not going to see any footprints. It is a losing battle with you as the only commander and soldier. The only thing it will leave you with are moody words and extra kilos. It will not even give you something that will be faithful to you at all times. You will be left to grapple with an art that refuses to budge. The aftermath of love will be a soul-slicing pain. One memory at a time. One unfulfilled promise at a time. You know when lightening leaves its gash on a tree, that’s the kind of scar or maybe scars you will have, once love is done with you. It is not just like that Cupid is shown with an arrow. They hurt and their pain is only felt when you don’t have answers to any questions or all you can see is a blank. Do yourself a big favour. Don’t fall in love.


You probably need an internal revolt;

Every cell up in arms against your colonisers;

Declaring a battle against that ex

Whose memory has chained you;

Whose built his palace on your ruins;

Maybe you need to scream your war cry

Against that ‘friend’ who feeds glass to your misery;

You need to set up a guerilla trap

Against your anxiety;

Giving it a taste of its own medicine.

You need to draw your battle lines

Sometimes against yourself;

That version which conspires to bring you down;

Every minute. Every second.

You need freedom;

You need a war;

And sometimes you’ll be the soldier

Or the enemy;

But better to try;

Than to live the illusion of independence.

Breaking Bad Cliches

People love throwing one liners at us. Yes, I am looking at you my writers’ brethren.  You would be hearing some gems like “Be your best every day.” But why don’t these things come with a goddamn manual? (Pardon me. I have been binge watching Breaking Bad)

They tell me that I am losing the distinction between fiction and real. I am sourcing out pain just for the sake of writing, and that I can write about happy incidents also. (Leo Tolstoy just shook in his grave)

So if I get a job that I love ( Universe, why don’t you make some of my hypothetical situations come true?) should I be writing something like “My crushed heart came alive. It’s as if someone just picked up my pieces and with the Elder wand, put it all together”? (#JustPotterheadThings) I think I would need a diabetes test if I write sappy and sugary every day.

Then there are these other gems that i come across. I am told that I should let go and get a little wild. Ya, I saw what happens when Walter White lets go and breaks bad. No thanks, I am good with this.

Then there are these other set of clowns who will tell me, “Move on. No point looking back. He has got his special one.”

Firstly, is he out of his mind to choose a mere mortal over a writer? Okay that was too much. But still, you are getting my point right?

And Facebook is a pal to these idiots. After a long day when you open your timeline, what you see is, “Wifey’s pasta was super tasty. #YummyForMyTummy.” What the fuck did I just read? (Send an instruction to your heart. PLEASE FALL FOR BETTER GUYS IN THE FUTURE). Come on, you don’t want to spend your words on such douchebags.

And then comes the classic, “Find the answer within you.” How does one even do that? A friend told me that I should sit with a paper without any distraction and just write what I want to do or love. I just drew some random doodles and wrote lines here and there. The universe’s system of luck distribution is really messed up.

And then the best part is when the universe throws you another curveball. It places you in House Introvert. When you go out with folks, they tell you to talk. But my point is what? Your power to start a conversation is low, then how can you have a stimulating conversation with your aunt’s husband’s sister’s uncle’s brother’s sister’s son.

Oh! And be warned. In such situations, everyone turns into a CCTV camera. All eyes on you. If you put a strand of hair behind your ears, you are flirting ISW (Indian Standard Way). Be aware, writer girls.

And what is also weird is that I intended this piece to be a how-to on being your best. (Yeah yeah one blind man guiding the other). But I spoke of everything around the point than the point itself. #JustWriterThings

P.S: Suck it in, Universe. You did not win. I wrote, bitch!

And after some months…

It’s been a while since I have dropped in here. Like I have said before, this is my personal space. I don’t need to worry about rules or craft or anything like that. There is so much structure in my daily life that I need a space bereft of everything that attempts to put me on the ‘right’ month.

I was worried that I am going to suck real bad at my new job. Well, me being me, I still think that. But, some days are better than those panic-driven days. Yesterday, I had a good day. Everything I wrote was the way it should have been.

Now that I am on it, I hate this word, ‘should’, I hope I could do away with it. It’s a single word with so much weight. It is enough to bog a person down. It is powerful enough to clip wings and suffocate courage, leaving it to endure a slow and painful death.

How many times have all of you thought to do something out of your comfort zone, and then a should has rung a bell following which you have taken a step back?

A nice art assignment came my way, but I don’t think my skills are to that level yet to be able to deliver what is required.

Yesterday, I was talking to this writer friend of mine. He is a phenomenal writer but his insecurity and that need to be perfect is getting the better of him. I told him that writing, one thing which is meant to be beautiful and free, is getting tinted with all this purpose that is being attached to it. The day we start writing just for the sake of writing will be the day when we might actually like a piece than put it up for comparison with other writers.

I have also started chanting. I was doing that before. But I had stopped for some reason. And now I am chanting at least once in the day, which is good progress, I feel.

Anyway, I am signing off now. I hope my break is not too long this time.




Free writing

Sometimes, I am really glad that this blog is not too popular. I can come here once in a while, and write what I feel like without any worry. No one will really judge me. In the present world, the concept of space is fading. With social media becoming an important part of our live, there is nothing that is really private. Ironically, this blog post is far from private.

I miss my Dad, so much that some days I feel my heart might just burst holding those kind of tears. I have not cried in a very long time, and even if I am in some situation, the tears just show up and never fall. I am on the verge of making an important decision, and today I felt that what if dad was here. He would have guided me and said to go ahead without any fear, and that he will always have my back.

I called up my mom, and she is not too aware about these things. She told me that end of the day, it is my call.

And at that point, I felt this yearn to hear my dad’s voice. After a point when your decisions are not taking you anywhere, your confidence to take decisions continues to reduce. There are days when I have tried to not let this misery consume me. I have been successful and on days like these, I have again hid myself behind my words.