My Love

Like the sky misses the moon by day, I miss you,
But when I see you it’s like you were never gone.
Like the ocean misses the shore, I miss you,
& it is only to you that I’m drawn.

Like the dew drops kiss the flowers, kiss me,
Your lips pressed against mine, long and slow.
Like the strong wind in a storm, uproot me
& take me to some place I don’t know.

Like the raindrops on my window sill, sing to me,
Your voice spreading warmth through my soul.
Like a cup of hot tea on a cold day, comfort me,
Hold me like you’ll never let me go.

Like strong entwined roots, stay with me,
Together, into each other we’ll grow,
For, my love, there is no one like you,
& you are my forever more.


Why I Love You

I love your smile. That only-for-me smile. I love how your eyes light up when you talk to me about all your experiences. I love the way you look up in defeat and whine when I get the better of you. I love your laugh, it’s so innocent and child-like. I love how much I get to learn from you, how you know so many things that I have no idea about. I love how deeply you analyse everything, not satisfied until you know every detail.

But more than all of that, I love how you make me feel. I love the sound of my laughter echoing yours. I love the shiver I get down my spine when your lips touch mine, when your hands run down my back. I love how important you make me feel, like I’m your whole world as you are mine. I love that you know everything about me, every single thing that’s led to who I am. I love how you criticise and challenge me, making me want to be better every day, for you.

But most of all, I love how we happened: So unexpected and out of the blue, like a whirlwind that took us and left us exactly where we wanted to be… And exactly where we will be for the rest of our lives.

Good Riddance

Sitting here, in the aftermath, reminiscing,
I’ve come to realise that its not you I’m missing.

I miss those days devoid of your memory,
I miss that feeling I had of being free
from this burden of guilt that you’ve given me.

I miss not having to take the blame
for every time that you felt ashamed.

I don’t want you back, I’ve had enough,
And I know that, on you too, this has been tough.

Even though, on me, this has left a mark,
On a new journey, I’m going to embark.

I’m taking with me all that I remember of you,
And every little thing that you taught me too.

But I’m leaving behind all of this mess,
And I still will not think of you any less
If you cannot grant me your forgiveness.

The Ape Convoy

It was unreal. I’d constantly pinch my thigh to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

My thighs — he loves my thighs. I’ve always found my thighs the ugliest, after my nose. Such a narrow (relatively) waistline, that goes down to form the broadest hip bones and even fatter thighs — oozing with cellulite. Disgusting.

But he doesn’t think so. He thinks I’m beautiful. He tells me often. I see it in his eyes when he stares, I feel it in his touch when his bare hands hold the small of my back, and I hear it in his voice when he sings for me.

And there he was, sitting inches away from me, teasing my lips with his. My dream guy. The one I’d waited all my life for. The love I never thought I’d get to experience. The love, that at one point, I was convinced did not exist.

It’s funny how all it takes is one person to completely throw you off balance and make a perfectly sane life seem absolutely crazy; or maybe, in my case, a perfectly crazy life, absolutely sane.

My fingers fit so easily between his.

Lying in bed, entangled, we were like two adjacent pieces in a puzzle. His smell, all over me, and mine, all over him; his warmth filing up my insides, spread throughout — and my soul smiled.

We were approaching the end of our magical weekend, his city calling him back, demanding of us both, the journey of a cruel distance. I’d have to wait a whole month to see him again — to taste his smoky lips, to feel his warm breath, all over — to run my fingers through his dreamy hair.

“I want you to try on my shirts, choose the one you like most and keep it.”
“I’d like that. I want to remember your smell. I need to. I don’t ever want to forget.”

So I tried them on, all three — and I chose.

A military green t-shirt, that smelled just like him: smoky, faintly musky, and laced with a soft sweetness that I associated with his bare chest and soft earlobes. It draped perfectly on me, hanging lightly off my shoulders — as if he was there, running his palms along them and around my waist, as if he was there, slowly tracing my curves with his fingertips. The print on the front had an ape holding up a gun, and below that it read, The Ape Convoy.

We were kissing, passionately, lying down, and hands all over each other — oblivious to the world. I pulled back and giggled. He grinned and we laughed, for perhaps a minute, but one that seemed to outdo itself — and then we were back at it, or so we hoped – for I did it again!

We’re laughing now, heartily, heads thrown back.

“You have to stop baby! Because I can’t, unless you do”, I beg.

But he won’t listen. He can’t help it, and neither can I. Smoking up wasn’t the best idea after all.

His deep laughter, accompanied with my high pitched, quirky, gasping for breath kind, formed the most beautiful melody that still lingers on in my head. A melody that wouldn’t stop, till our sides began to hurt and our sanity came into question.

He tightly gripped my waist, kissed my smiling lips and whispered on them, “I love you”

And in that moment, I swear, we were infinite.


We come from different places, we’ve seen different things;
We lead different lives, we’re puppets on different strings.

We’ve loved different people, and somewhere in our heart
we’ve buried their essence, even though they are apart.
They are a part of us now; they have shaped us in many ways,
Their words are embedded in our minds,
They saw us through our darkest days.

But now they are gone, those people; gone is the echoing laughter.
Gone are the ones, with whom we thought we’d spend our Happily Ever After.

“If the ending isn’t happy, it’s not the end”, they say.
And never did I understand that… until you came my way.


Is it unreasonable to ask if you would still want to be friends?
Is it unreasonable to think this is not where it ends?

I would understand if you can never forgive me,
I would understand if you want nothing to do with me,

Nobody deserves to feel this way,
Nobody deserves to live in fear everyday.

What I did to you was distasteful and horrid,
I never thought I could stoop to that level of sordid.

But now, the music I’m ready to face,
I will make up for this disgrace.

“Be daring, be …

“Be daring, be different, be impractical, be anything that will assert integrity of purpose and imaginative vision against the play-it-safers, the creatures of the common place, the slaves of the ordinary.” – Cecil Beaton

I love this quote so much that I have it framed it put on my desk so I can keep reminding myself to try and imbibe it in my lifestyle.

Why is it important to be daring, different and impractical? Simply because there are way too many fearful, monotonous and practical people out there and you really don’t want to add to them.

Why play it safe when you can tread on the untaken path? By that I don’t mean be a Columbus, I just mean break the monotony; question the rules.

Be curious. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but if it hadn’t been curious it wouldn’t have known that it had eight other times to live!

Wings and Roots

Freedom. What does the word mean to you? People mistake it for being able to do what they please, as they please and with whom they please. My interpretation of freedom is entirely different. Freedom is such a beautiful and strong word. It needs to be used with care.

I think of freedom as a choice more than an allowance. Even in confinement, one can always choose to be free. To be free from all the trouble life brings, the shallowness we see, the temptation we often fall prey to, the pressure from society, the need to be noticed. Freedom is based on perception. There are poor people who are not free to do what they wish to because of money constraints while there are rich people who can’t do what they wish to because of societal constraints. Life is filled with ifs and buts, and it’s too short to give up by playing by everybody else’s rules.

The answer to living wholly is not by being wild and inconsiderate of other people’s feelings, it is to not stop yourself from doing what makes you happy even though it may not be the ‘socially acceptable’ thing to do. Freedom is a way of thought; it is a way of approaching every problem that you are faced with; it is the assurance you give others that you will never judge them no matter what because that is what you expect in return.

Freedom requires one to know where they belong, where their calling is without forgetting where they come from.

Freedom is acknowledging your roots while spreading your wings… Because not all who wander are lost.

A Day in the Life of Layla

“Good morning dad!”

Its only 6 am and I’m tired as fuck but yes lets go for a swim. Because there is nothing more important than exercise.

So I quickly brush, put on a pair of shorts, eat my daily peeled almonds and drive off with dad to the pool. Mom can’t make it today because she’s not well. So I walk into the club and all eyes on me, no not because I’m hot, but because I’m wearing shorts. And in this city if you’re showing more skin than just your palms and your face perhaps, people stare at you like you’re an alien. And the men gawk at you like you’re naked. 

Anyhoo, I swim around lazily for nearly half an hour trying to maneuver my way through annoying kids and fat women flapping their way about the pool thinking they can swim. My dad swims continuously, looking at me like I’m an idiot when I stop for a break to catch my breath.

Time for a long hot bath in the locker room – my favourite part! Yay, now I smell nice and look pretty ( and tanned ). My dad and I sing a couple of lame songs on our way back and stop for the usual coconut water from our usual coconut water guy. 

Back home, and I have to prepare breakfast since mom’s not well. I hate working. I’m so anti-housework its not funny. Like my mind simply refuses to wash clothes, vessels, prepare meals, set the table. Ugh, I hate it. I do it, but I hate it.

I’m done with breakfast and I come back to my room. I’m supposed to be doing something productive but I sit and watch 90210. YES 90210. Can you believe it? I mean initially it was a good show, but then it got pretty screwed up and now its just fucking beyond recovery. I’m supposed to be looking for a summer internship, because its nearly summer. I don’t know what to look for, because I don’t know what I want to do! Is that weird? I’m doing undergrad and I’m so confused about which field I want to go into. Everything seems appealing and repulsive at the same time. Its like “Oh yeaahh I totally want to be a marketing executive. Marketing executives suck.”

Oh and just when things can’t get fruitier, my boyfriend decides to be a fucking jerk. “I’m going to do exactly what I want, I’m going to speak to whom I want, I’m going to hang out with whoever I want, but you? You’re under my control bitch”. Fuck you, boyfriend. 🙂

Oh and then my mom comes to my room and gives me a career lecture. “You should really become a blah blah blah. Why don’t you enroll for the course? I told you right from the beginning…. blah blah blah”. 

Its noon now and I realised how pointless this entire article was. I signed up for blogging because I needed a way to vent. Thanks for listening (or not).