Misplaced!!!

I never ever thought I’d have to be up here, in just my final laps of my quarter life - having to be grown up, speaking adult thoughts from an adult head with a child’s heart in tow. But then again, this isn’t something that can be thought about or be prepared for. The sun still rises and sets, leaves continue to fall, the winds get stronger, daylight is saved tonight and the traffic on the Airport junction round is probably just the same, and things... Keep going- in this circle. Nothing stops to let us catch our breath and decide who is what and what is meant to be right and what is meant to be wrong or how things would have been.

But I know this simply isn’t the time for regret, it’s the time for merriment of a girl’s maximum life. (Hhuhh… I actually don’t know what does a girl’s maximum life means… But I believe I have lived it. ) It is the time to exploit the life left over. Just a few months ago, I came across a book, called the Joy of Cancer by Anup Kumar. At first, I was why would there be any joy in cancer? But soon, as I started to read the book I saw the reason. Because if you actually look, there is always joy in everything and there is always light.

I’d like to leave with a few thoughts that I’m sure none wanted or showed no interest to know. Of course, I’ll miss me, my life and especially as my living on earth continues on, there’ll be giant hole in everything that I do. But I will try not to be sorry for my loss. I will not simply mourn about my loss because I am absolutely certain that I have lived a life worth celebrating. I can pen down the RIP note on the last page of my hand made papers diary:

‘Remember me when I am gone away,

Gone far away into the silent land;

When you can no more hold me by the hand,

Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay. 

(Christina Rossetti)

 I haven’t ever lost a book or misplaced a pen in my entire life. I was very careful that I haven’t lost a thing, in the past 20 years. But I don’t know why I misplaced my life!!!

The immoral night

I may sound crazy. But, all I’m trying to say is that I’ve never been filled with so much love before. Even sleep is filled with lucid dreams, love and lust and sweat and you and more of you and words.

I think I will recite the entire story of the night with so much excitement. But I don’t think I will. No one has the guts. There’s something in our culture that forbids it. There’s something in our roots that makes us ignore our own flaws. Well, let me write it down anyway.

The terrace is dark but comfortable— I wouldn’t mind living there. I don’t need a roof. Walls suffocate me round the building, there are temples to keep me awake, and a mosque to tell me the time. I haven’t yet found the star I’m looking for; there are way too many to keep track of. His arms lay crossed the entire night, his hands clenching around my shapeless belly— even the strongest force couldn’t have torn them apart. I could have, but didn’t. I just laid back staring at the sky of the small terrace, as if it held the answers to all my troubles. . A scratch here, a pull there, a tear here, a block there, I could feel all of him slowly syncing with every organ in my body.....Maybe....

He stared at me from the minute I sat down to the minute I got off at my destination. The attraction in his piercing eyes shone so much that I could see all of me in them. What was it about you that made me crazy?

He hasn’t taken his eyes of me. My tears stayed rigid around my eyes as if they are too afraid to fall. I want to press my hands into his and tell him, to hold me even more closely. But instead, I squirm and look away, as if I am counting those stars. I have no regrets. Fire births fire, they teach. So be it. Here’s all I have.

When we finally stood up, I looked at him again. His eyes are still on me but they’re milder now. Not quite calm, but resigned. I want to tell him, thanks for the hug, I know but, I don’t. From the safety of the morality platform, I watched the tear fall just as though a train rushed past. It didn’t explode.

Tell me a story

"Tell me a story" speak loud enough that I can hear you over the noises around. The story may be old and boring but please start over, speak Louder, make me remember. Tell me the story of us;. Something so exciting that it sparks me to move on! Let me rest this night in your lap, to wake up to my fifties. I am bored of my twenties. I want to grow old.

I am fed up with the sparkle in my eyes; it is fake, created with just the dark lines of an eye artist kit, it never adds to my youthfulness or optimism.

Tell me the story of a heaven, where I can sit with you for ages, laugh, and cry and do whatever I feel like without solid reasons. Tell me a romantic story so charming and full of life; that I can dream; I exist, that I am not a rock.

Tell me a story, just speak dear, I want to hear your voice, stories of child hood. Tell me the fairy tales, where the stories always had a happy ending, where they ended with the clause “and they lived happily ever after”. Tell me that we are also living in one such fairy tale.

Tell me that we have already past 15 years of living together and we are at our 40’s. Tell me we have nothing to worry about anymore and we are for each other. Tell me that our lives are fully in our control and nobody including god can get nothing done with it.

Tell me a story dear, The story of a girl, who loves fairy tales, who still runs behind dragon flies, who still cries for getting things done, who still begs for that piece of chocolate. Speak loud enough, that I can hear you over the noises around!!!

What would have been…

She removed the sparkling wedding ring off her finger… The token of love!! She felt the ring is too heavy for her... Staring at the ring she could barely see the face of that girl, whom she’d almost forgotten, very cheerful and talkative Renu… the one who dreamt about “true love”, and adventurous life ahead!!Somewhere inside her locked up  heart, a spirit turned in its sleep and pried out a single tear from an unsuspecting gland. What would have been… 

Autism, Oh That's Great!! BTW what is that?

Other side: Hi, How are you?

Me: I am good, thanks

Other side: You are from Ernakulam rite?

Me: yes, muvatupuzha

OS: ohh.. okey... studied?

Me: yes I did study..

Os: No no.... i mean where did you do your graduation?

Me: MGU.

OS: Nice.. I did it from XXXXX and then PG from XXXXX

Me: k (Why the heck you are telling me all these.. can’t you see I am not interested??)

OS: Who all are there in your home?

Me: Dad, Mom, Bro and Grandma

OS: Nice.. Bro... What he is doing?

Me: Nothing.. He is autistic

OS: Great!! BTW whats that?

Me: He has autism... not well...

OS: Autism means what?

ME: Please Google it...

Silence for long 2, 3 minutes...

OS: err...mm... so sorry ... I dint know it..

Me: Its fine.. no need to feel sorry about.. he is well and good.. The best man in the world I have ever seen.. 

The other side guy will no longer come for a chit chat in usual case..

But I have also seen guys coming with offers of pure love and all (not only for me but for ma bro too ... Effect of Cliché Malayalam movies.. Hero offering life to heroine and her family suffering from disease( poverty comes along).. hmm.... hehee)... Sorry people I don’t want it.. Not because you are bad, but there are needy people who wants your sympathy than me.. Please please.. Give it to them.. 

Worldwide, April 2 is celebrated as the World Autistic Awareness Day to highlight the need to help improve the lives of children and adults with Autism so that they can lead full and meaningful lives.

"Autism is an invisible condition, that is, an autistic person may not necessarily be on a wheel chair or on crutches, so people don't accommodate for the person," Merry Barua, founder of NGO Action for Autism (AFA) said. 

Beyond the barriers of morality..

The writer is not sure about the relevance of this post.. It is not at all relevant...


I have done everything everything I wished for.. Every thing of ma dreams....And finally I m here.. sitting in the sand.. hearing the roar of the sea in front... I know I have attained so much..but nothing at all.. I miss you.. damn.. I know, of all the laughter, giggles, pseudo smiles I m sure the real me is crying a bit; Only a bit i ll say.. 


It was my choice only , year back I chose to miss you..but dint knew then it is tough.. It was not tough either those days.. But now at this point of life, my lonely moments, my life everything misses you.. 

I ll say without doubt.. walking away from you was much easier for me... but now when I am in a different stage of life.. While am dealing with this different episode of life I am sure I miss you.. I miss being yours at least now....

Note: To all those who are present in my life now.. This is about me.. There is no fabrication.. Its a real thing... I am not trying to be a stereo typical broken heart.. I am not actually..

Damaged & Beyond repair

It was just a journey back to this soulful city again. But for some or other reason, everything seemed different and less colourful. This city has changed (may be the crowd) and become strange. All of a sudden, it’s full of borders and locks, and I am an intruder in a hostile home.

Thinking about colours, what I’ve learned is that they appear and disappear as well. And for every uttering remark of never and forever, it is life that’s going miserable. And about that dull painted canvas of love I feel like I may be the only one adding that bit of colour.

I simply wish I could go back to note down the shadows of each person passed by. To have that freedom to keep moving, as though this is not the place where I belong to, as though I don’t know these passing faces, as though I m here just to draw there caricatures, as though I even don’t know me, the actual me.

The journey of “conquering life” is probably over. The excuses have hit the level of tolerance, the philosophies were completely dissipated, the photographs even have faded & what left behind is a worn out me...  Damaged and beyond repair...