Saturday, 24 August 2013


"You are, at once, both the quiet and the confusion of my heart."

– Franz Kafka

I had to only close my eyes, and listen to the waves galore. The raised wall, separated me from the quaint water, as I walked the other side, mapping the circumference. The whiff of damp sand, and the salty water kick me back to the times when this used to be my home.  I remember the nights I've spent beside you, adoring your beauty, your sound as you convulsed a million times in your own folds, deep in sleep. I'd walk by you. You'd laugh as I scribbled on you. You always let it stay. You'd never smudge my identity, you let me be. Sometimes I'd sketch you, but you'd never stay still, always laughing, making strange faces. I wrote you numerous letters while being apart. I don't know if you ever received them. I never forgot you. My nights which have passed beside you are etched in my memory. Out of all the places I've been to, to make memories, you're my favourite of all. And sometimes, we'd just fill our empty stomachs from the smell of the cakes that Parsi Aunty baked next door. I'll be back. Sooner, this time. A part of me lies in your vicious folds, giving away the shadows of the sun. Sometimes you're the sky, and sometimes the sun itself. 

Bombay's my birthplace. And the love of my life. 


Monday, 19 August 2013


What am I doing here? What is everybody doing here? What if I'm the only actual human and the rest are my mind's projections? What if the world doesn't exist? What if we were manufactured out of a machine and hoisted upon a matrix mind device right after the machines spit us out?

Okay, moment-of-crisis over. I keep wondering all the time if what I'm studying for, isn't what I'm supposed to be in life.What if I'm supposed to be a writer, and should've pursued English(Hons.), and spent my life writing and drinking coffee with a cigarette in my mouth, carrying expensive hand-crafted diaries with fountain pens holding onto its cover? What if I was destined to be a secret agent? Or, maybe a guitarist? 

They say, we're born with a purpose to pursue, and it's up to us to figure it out. Often we're faced with multiple choices in life, and narrowing them down to one, when you love all of them, is a soul-crushing act. Well, Sanya once told me that the choice between right and wrong is easy; what's tough is the choice between two rights. It's never a straight way out when you know that everything you have a choice to make from is right for you, and will potentially make you happy in the future. What's more, is that you're good at every one of them. Which is why I guess the person who created the concept of the existence of a hobby was a genius. The world is an amazing place to be in. It contains so much in its folds, it's bound to drive you endlessly crazy. Sure, there's a lot to love; but you can't love everything. The possibility of the likeness for something always throws us over the edge. 

It's easy. Keep your hobby, a hobby. Don't mask it in the colours of passion and run with it for the rest of your life. I still think I'd probably make a better writer than an architect. But my constant urge to make something lasting, and effortlessly noticeable outcasts my needs for writing. Yes, writing has its own perks, and happiness. But I've it clear in my mind that my blogposts are only my feelings, my need to be a different character every time I sketch them out in my head. I might want to resort to writing as I grow old, sure, but I don't see that as my career. 

There's never anything as right or wrong. The choice is always between two rights - the only difference is there's one that's right for now, and the latter will be right for some other time. The only thing you need to identify is what feels better than the other one for now, be it two lovers, two books, two stories to write, two designs of tatoos, two routes to somewhere, two holiday destinations, or two radio stations. You only get to make decisions once, so do it right. 


Wednesday, 14 August 2013


It's your day man. Yes, you're awesome, and yes, you're pretty amazing, Tiny-Stoned-Egghead.
I never have had the better things to say when I should, actually. But you're one those people who've always known where to go if you wanted to know more. 
You're a sweetheart. You always take out time to listen to others' problems before you come to terms to sharing yours. What the hell! You just don't ever share yours. Sometimes, well.
Psst! Probably you had me since the beginning. Even before you gave me your number for help in Structures. Well, that didn't turn out to be so good. But, you did! 
You have amazing eyes. I know that's a first, and I know I've said that before too, BUT, I love them.
Your dismissal has actually been one of the many pulling factors. I-know-you-don't-give-a-shit? Yeah, yeah, I know. It's cute when you do. See? Not my fault. The cute comes out automatically. You should accept it now as a trait. 
The amount of happiness you threw my way by singularly sharing such amazing music, is beyond definition. Let me know if you find a way for me to repay you for that.
Not just music, solely. You always know how to make people happy. For a silent nutjob like you, that's a pretty good job you do. 
You're crazy, man. Crazy till the limit of driving my crazy, crazy. I've shared things with you, which I haven't with another soul. You always keep running away from the world. It was tough, of course, opening you up and looking inside you. You weren't that different, when I did. 
You know there comes a time, when you see someone and hoped you could speak to them. Hoped they could become someone important to you. You were that one person, Pix. 
You have the most beautiful mind I've ever seen. I could only wish to be as nice and amazing as a person you are. You make think just so much.
Each time I see a book, or just as simply listen to a new song, I try thinking what'll you think about it, what'll you do. If you'd take that book, or you'd leave that song halfway, and search a remix version in the next tab? If certain songs do something to you, or what is it about your already favourite songs that make you tick, which part makes you feel that you should play it?
I look at new people everyday. I look at them, I observe them, and I think, what if nobody out of all these had a mind like yours. What if you're the only one idiotic piece I met? 
The only thing I regret is not knowing and understanding you enough. I wish I had. I really do. Even in a crowd of millions, I could easily spot you. Because you wouldn't even be walking in another direction, you'd just be there, by that wall, with your earphones tucked, thinking how stupid people can be. You're, I think what people call diamonds. True that, because you were one tough nut to crack, boss. 
You might never get the magnitude of my feelings and respect for you. But one thing you can, is that there's way beyond your messes, love. And trust me, if you give a chance, people will figure you out. That would make me jealous like nothing else, somebody else knowing you just about right. 
You need to trust yourself more, you'll know how to live then. 
I wanted to be the one to save you. You know, you meet some people, and you just want to be the reason for their happiness? That. I wanted to make you see you. You keep finding good things about people, I wish you'd do that more often to yourself. You'd be surprised, really.

I still trust you as much as I did a couple of months back. You're the only thing I've trusted myself with. Because I know, no matter how reckless I'm with myself, you wouldn't be. I utterly believe in you. 
You're so talented and honest and strong. Exasperatingly ignorant, at times, yes. But you are the reason I could believe again, Pix. You're the reason I'm not cold and calculative anymore. And you're the reason I smile, again. 
I wish life had a repeat button. I would never get tired of repeating these three months that I've known you. You don't know what they are to me. I'm always going to carry whatever I've had of you with me, forever. Well, forever doesn't exist, I know. Till as long as I'll live. 
I wish I knew how to love unselfishly. Because I wanted you so badly, it's not even funny, that I could have given anything for you.
You've taught me to be free again. And there's nothing I can be more thankful for. 

You're still the best thing that's ever happened to me. You're crazy. My kind of crazy. You'll always be. There'll be a time when we might cross each other, and not even smile. But I want you to know, that I'll still turn around and look at you. I'll always be here. No matter who I or you'll be with, I'll still always be here. And I'd still want to love you, even if I get the world at my disposal. You took a big chunk from me. Keep it, if it'll remind you of me from time to time. There's nothing more I'd expect. I'm not afraid of the dark so much anymore, I guess. Maybe because it's in there, I'll find you sometimes. Your smile is contagious, it makes me smile too. So don't ever lose it.
I want to say a lot more, but I don't want to wet my keyboard.

Happy Birthday, Pix.
I love you, beyond you. 

Love, always,

Monday, 12 August 2013


So what if things go wrong?
If they screw up?
If people end up being the wrong one?
So, simply what?
Let's go back to the start.
Let's go back to knowing one another as a musician and a writer only.
To having only a social network relationship.
To not knowing anything about each other.
To never have gone beyond a Facebook chat.
To never have talked about beyond music, books and work.
To never have drunk-dialled/ texted each other.
Hell, to never have even had each others' number.
Let's add each other again on Facebook.
Let's strike a first conversation again.
Let's bitch about work load, and teachers again.
Let's unhear all the music we shared.
Let's untalk all the dumbfuck bikinis and cars and artists and bands and egghead conversations. 
Let's not smoke up after my design jury.
Let's unlearn each others' secrets.
Let's un-christen all the nicknames we had.
Let's not think about all the times we tried making the other one feel better.
Let's unexplore all our weak points.
Let's erase each others' names from recent call/ text lists.
Let's unlike each other.
Let's unsmoke the cigarettes we smoked. 
Let's erase all the drunk conversations.
Let's un-understand each other.
Let's unknow each other.
Let's be unloved by each other.
Let's unfight all our fights.
Let's dust all our dirty conversations.
Let's unmake all the times we made up to each other. 
Let's talk on that just one single day that we didn't.
Let's undoubt all your doubts.
Let's keep you from going.
Let's unweep all my cries and pleas.
Let's do everything all over again.
Let's do things differently.
Let's make you fall in love with me this time, instead.
Let's know each other, again.
Let's discover filthy secrets of each other, again.
Let's get together, again.
Let's fall in love, again.
Let's be there for each other when we promise so, again.
Let's listen too all the music we shared together, again.
Let's discuss how stupid Fast6 was, again.
Let's Skype, again.
Let's turn each other on, again.
Let's want to be with each other, again.
Let's drunk-dial, again.

Friday, 9 August 2013

Pour A Little Winter In My Coffee

"The exploding vulnerability,
Of the night,
When it stands at its darkest, 
Right before the dawn,
Dangling like a lost lover,
When the roads barren,
And the sky hushed,
The world seems bigger,
Enhanced by the moonlight,
Looking of past, holding the essence of  the nameless,
Don't blame the virgin night,
It does not engulf,
It invites you in, to fill it in,
With your secrets,
Protecting you every step of the way, 
The night retrospects,
In its obscurity,
Lies its unkempt beauty,
Exactly how a woman looks dishevelled,
In the morning light, 
Pouring winter into her coffee."

Retrospecting, yet again,

Wednesday, 7 August 2013

Astonishing August: Day Seven - Ride

"The world awed at her glory. Admired her for being who she was. Worshipped her for the deeds she did. Funny how all of this would have sounded to be an absurd joke only a few years ago. Because she was the one always standing out of the line, breaking the norms, embracing the unseen. So what if she was alone? So what if her gifted visions were the reason of her melancholia? For what she saw for the truthful was truth, for the sinful was sin. Each time she envisioned something, it would keep taking a piece of her. One little bite of cheese each time. But that little girl, she took the biggest part of them all. She cut her into half - half enough, to never be completed again by anyone. And she still stood there, with her eyes transfixed, each time searching for her, because it was only her she saw among everyone else, because if it weren't for her, she never had been here. Casting her own spells, she waved away the world. 'Cause God knew, she wasn't a mystery made to be solved."

Again a part of Kanika's Astonishing August.
College starts tomorrow. A new page again. 

Still wishing, 

Monday, 5 August 2013

Astonishing August: Day Four - Dance With Me!

"Through all the adversities,
I saw the light,
Blinding me with truth,
Dancing around my eyes,
Like a paradigm broadway,
Because sometimes,
Only sometimes, you witness,
Something so surreal,
Yet feeling utterly real.
Corroborating its existence, 
Every night,
Was the only excuse to be together with them,
Finding refuge in its silence,
I lay atop my car,
Each night,
Glaring at the enormous luminaries. 
I'll remember the next time,
To get that bottle of wine,
Which bequeaths me with the same inebriation,
That my fondness for you does. 

Again a part of Kanika's Astonishing August. Later, peeps. 


Sunday, 4 August 2013

Astonishing August: Day Three - That Leave Us

"Everyone is a prisoner of their own mystery. Mysteries that absorb them, like a summer day's sun. Mysteries they can't conclude. Mysteries that run in a loop of oddity. Mysteries that'll consume your every chance to set free. Mysteries that rise over your back, upon your shoulders and matures like a kid - a kid who snubs to fly away. Your mysteries that tickle my fantasy. Mysteries I feed off of. Mysteries that pry me to continue looking for new mysteries everyday. Mysteries I use to fill the void. Mysteries that left a mark. Mysteries that draw the map to my daily undetermined life. You made me a prisoner to your mysteries. Everyone is a prisoner of their own mystery. Mysteries that absorb them, like a summer day's sun."

Part of Kanika's Astonishing August, again. So college finally decides to upon a reopening date. Wednesday. No extra week. Right. Be back sooner. 

Finally resting,

Thursday, 1 August 2013

Astonishing August: Day One - Something In The Dark

"Revelling in the resonance of gushing wind through his ears, he stood at the city's brow, yet again, second time in a decade. As the effusion gradually numbed his mind, his ear still hammered from the noises of yesterday, "Magic, is only your imagination. But what you choose to do with that imagination is up to you."
He sometimes wished his imagination had a lot more power than he could muster out of it. Uncoiling his brains, sorting each memory into their worthy cabinets, he plucked his favourite one which had grown completely ripe, protected in the heat of his helixes. His sister smiling at him as she lit the very first candles of the refugee camp. He remembered her being very, very positive. Sometimes he felt that the light in her eyes provided for the hope missing in the people. Leading him to believe in the whites, she taught him the appreciation of the obscurity, as well. 

He opened his eyes, holding in his hand the power of his imagination, looking to fulfil his sister's hopes. Finger by finger, he emitted the radiance he remembered seeing in his sister's visions. Turn by turn, he lit the path, somewhere hoping, his imagination would bring her back to him. After all, she taught him his invention, the imagination that was the only magic he'd witnessed. "

Light Harvest by Boy_Wonder on Flickr

This was a part of Kanika's Astonishing August
Structures exam tomorrow. 

Happy enough,