White Heat

Me, the loner. Me, the black sheep. The rule-breaker, the freak, the forsaken?

So many decisions, so many paths to chose from, so many ways to go.

And yet, at this point – it was just me and the fire.

I watched it dance, flicker and tease the air around.

It didn’t make me uneasy – then again, fire never does.

I watched the golden flames lick the grass not far from me. I watched the flames caress the blades, and watched as the green turned to dust right before my eyes.

I watched the blaze, watched as it grew and grew, and grew.

Then, it crackled merrily, a few feet above my motionless body. I could almost feel the flames mirrored in my eyes, yet the heat hadn’t penetrated to my ice-cold limbs yet. Ahead of me lay the most beautiful scene I would ever see. My city, at night, with the reflection of all those brilliant lights in the calm waters of our lake.
There was no sound that registered in my head, other than the fizzing of the fire.
In a way it completely reflects the way I feel, that burning and lack of control on how it spreads, then again it’s so different from my restraints and rules.

The first few rays of dawn creep towards me, I can feel them reaching out. They irritate me, for I know, with them comes the shock of realization that reality always brings. And I don’t want it. I do not want reality to interfere in all that is so pure, heck so clear in my head now.

I do not want to dismiss this with the blink of an eye.
Tonight I learnt a lot. About life, its meaning and purpose. What exactly I learnt cannot be expressed in words, only feelings. And hence, that much harder to explain. I hesitate to blink, even though my eyes begin to water. I plead to myself – no, don’t let go.
Don’t let me go…

Involuntary. I’m too weak. As my lids sweep down, something inside breaks. I open up slowly. The magnificent fire is smoking as it takes its last few breaths. I watch it in the cruel light of day that grows stronger and stronger. I feel all the madness leave me, draining out of me slowly. Sanity overcomes me.

I stand up. This is me now. No silly emotions clouding me, no indecision lingering. The truth is cruel, so am I. I know what I have to do.

Dust of the past. Actions precede the words, I’m dusting off my clothes. I pull myself to my full height. The eyes, they narrow themselves. Too much light, too much to see. All I have to do now is focus.

Strides that would make a pack leader proud, I’m walking away. The fire dwindles away completely to smoke. I don’t even glance back. Step, step, step.

Chin in the air. Time to be a leader. Time for me to forge my own way.

Traffic and Me.

I remember when I was younger that I was a cheerful person. Content and at peace with myself all the time. I had a short temper, and if provoked I was a demon on fire, but when I was on my own, it never lasted.Nice things just floated in and out of my mind, I couldn’t help it. They say ignorance is bliss, and with my under-developed social-observation skills, I was at complete bliss. My moods generally were of a sunny nature. Unfortunately though, over time I became too busy to notice or care about anything but what was going on, and what was expected of me.

Today I walked home.

The bus stopped at the other stop, further than I’d expected, but as always, I’d squared my shoulders, turned up the volume and did what I had to.  Sometimes it’s as if my phone is testing my patience – it’s idea of full volume changes every time hit the ‘play’ button. So instead of drowning out everything around me, as it sometimes does, I was still very conscious of my surroundings.

I heard the bus as it blared for someone to get out of it’s way. I heard the man shout back violently, defending himself. I heard a car zoom by me faster than it was supposed to, a motorcyclist honking as he swerved in and out of traffic. For mid-afternoon, I was faced with simply too much teeming activity. I trudged on, my books heavy on my back – as if I needed a reminder about my upcoming doom in the form of exams.

The heat penetrated from all directions, the sun straight at my unprotected head, the ground heat burning through the soles of my favorite, well-used and worn-out shoes.

I heard girls my age giggle and laugh as they exchanged encounters and replied to the text messages they got on their expensive, stylish, over-the-top cellphones. I heard the guys comment as every girl passed by them. In all probability, both the groups, by their relaxed postures, seemed to suggest they were in no hurry to escape the heat. They were likely to have friends who’d come at the drop of a hat and whisk them away into the security of their homes. It’s what came with being popular. Or normal, I really wouldn’t know, being a bit of a recluse myself. Taxis stopped, asking me if I needed a lift. A man from behind the counter of his shop asked me if I wanted something to drink or eat, and one glance at his fly-infested display had my stomach reeling. More autorikshas stopped to see if I was going their way, or if I needed to go somewhere.

I did, but I wasn’t going to pay them for walking a mere kilometer. Okay, so it was hot and yes, I’d have done anything at this point to spike the volume of the songs I was listening to, but after the rather worrisome week I’d had, I was in desperate need of some time for myself. I sorted out the route I would take, in my head, and began walking in my headstrong, brisk walk that I’ve been told is distinctively mine. I tried to let the music take over me, but just as the song was about to… “lift me up”, the drilling began. Ilooked up from the road I walked on to see that the road I’d chosen, was the one less taken – no pun intended.  This one looked nothing like the image the poet’s (Robert Frost) words painted, I was in the middle of a concrete jungle and a concrete dig lay ahead of me.

The roads had been cut off crudely with what looked like toy diversions, rocks were lined unevenly around the surface of the road which suddenly dropped several feet into the ground,

deep enough that I could see only the necks of the cranes and heavy-load machinery inside the pit. What caught my attention more, was how people, as if inheriting the quality from goats, were waltzing through the maze of the rocks, stones, mud, gravel, sand, flint, concrete, cement etc etc with such ease. And by the way I was being jostled, clearly I was expected to do the same. There was just one other alternative for me, I had to turn back and go the longer way in the heat – or, I could walk… er,  tackle this out. I was secretly broke, having spent my last travel money for the copy of some notes in college I would never see but had to have in case I was asked to produce them on-the-spot.

So far, as was a habit, I hadn’t completely stopped walking, I’d merely slowed down to the speed everyone normally walked at, but if I was to successfully make it to the other side of the ravine, I had to quicken my steps.

I felt the sweat trickle down my shoulder blades, my back already protesting from the load I was forced to carry. The shoes were on their last leg, so I had to tread carefully, a leap there, a slip here, oh better hurry out of the way for the-ridiculous-motorcyclist-who-thinks-he-could-fit-a-moped-through-where-one-couldn’t-stand-steadily-with-their-two feet-on-the-ground, scurry past the horde of workers who for some reason stopped their work to stare at me, leap over that wire, use the electric pole for help as I swing to the next safety spot – there! Aching feet and back, dress soaking with sweat and holding my nose so I could avoid the smell, hair plastered to the skull by some mis-fired water sprayed at us back when we were crossing the pit, hands red from clinging to all the extra support I’d needed…

I was out. I’d made it to the other side.

There was a weak sense of accomplishment in me, slowing building up. All week long I’d been succumbing to the fear that I was changing, but for the worse. I’d never been comfortable with frills and flower patterns, but lately people told me I was becoming more feminine – and that scared me. I was used to being rough and crude, blunt and bold; femininity suggested I do these things differently, or even not at all. I looked back at the male-infested road (or whatever it was called). It took me only a second to realize that I had been the only woman/girl who walked through the pass, which was probably why the workers had stopped to stare. I let the embarrassment fade before the pride kicked in again. I had done it without a word of complaint, and honestly I’d do it again if I had to. The giggling girls and their cellphones could take a hike, this was they way things were done.

I continued my quest home, only half done, but the rest of the roads that led me there were easier. There were uphill and steep, had their own fair share of pot-holes, but I was looking forward to the shade and the relative quietness. I saw leaves now mingled with the mud, dirt and sand I walked on – what we roughly refer to as “road”. Just that, a few greens amongst the angry shades of orange, had me smiling.  I felt the volume of the song increase, and even though the song playing wasn’t particularly my favorite, it lifted my spirits further.

By the time the giggling girls and the pointing men whizzed past me in their fancy cars and bikes, I was soaring. The music was back again, lulling my senses into a state of false security and isolation. I didn’t acknowledge their pitying looks, instead I pitied them. They did not share with me my sense of accomplishment. They would go home and continue with their lives, just as ever before.

I was not changed. I did not have an epiphany. What I did feel was reassurance. I knew who I was – that I hadn’t changed from who I’d worked so hard on becoming. I was still me. I still looked a challenge right in the eye, without flinching. Longer hair and girly sandals meant nothing to what lay inside. So I might have become more soft round the edges and easier on the eyes, it did not mean I had become any different. And yet… different – what did that mean any more? I hadn’t found joy in so long, it seemed like a fairy tale to me. I no longer thought of myself as living, “surviving” seemed more appropriate.

I reached home to an empty house. We didn’t get any direct sun rays, then again we never got any wind. I walked into the kitchen and made myself a sandwich. I slapped cool water on my face, then let it drip dry as I bit into “lunch”. I sat alone on the table, the music lulled by the softness of the song my phone played.

I chewed my food as realization struck me.

Unbelievable, but it seemed that after so long, I was complacent once more.

The Exceptions

He is silent, helpful, clever and one of the most principled people I have ever met.

She has a great sense of humour, a flair for giving advice, passion for life and a great love for music.

Neither of them have PhDs, but he has a masters from IIT Delhi and she is a gold medalist from one of the best universities here.

To you they might be partially interesting strangers, to me and my sister, they are Mom and Dad.

When they’d gotten married, they barely knew each other, a near scandalizing thought to me. I cannot imagine it- even when faced with proof of it day in and day out.

Dad’s got a soothing presence, while Mom’s constant moving has me feeling like a lazy bum.

When I want a hug, just… because, I go to dad. When I have a problem, I run to mum- and then get a hug anyway.

Sometimes, even that reverses. Throughout my childhood Dad has been the constant pillar I could lean on, and Mom the one who helped me fight my demons.

But that was nothing more than “Mom and Dad” for me. Thats what they were there for, right?

Dad’s job in the Navy and then in ship buliding caused him to leave us alot in the middle, and that was my wake up call.

Suddenly things had changed. Mom was working, but she also played the role of Mom and Dad. Of course Dad’s daily (or 3 times a day) phone calls helped too.

He visted us once a month or so- and you could literally hear the house sign in relief as the madness slowed down to a crawl around him.

And all through, for me, he was “Dad”.

Now I am old enough to see that if either of them wanted, they could have bailed on us anytime. There was no need for Dad to shu up and down so much, to call so much and overwork himself. There was no need for mom to face our adolescene alone either, while managing a difficut boss at her job, no need for her to face the tension about what our exams meant for our future.

Either of them could have stopped caring and thought about themselves- it takes less than a second to do so.

But when the going got tough- Mom and Dad stood by what was best for us, not caring what it could mean for them.

So what did it mean for them?

Dad finally shunned his job that far off from us and took a transfer to one that would bring him back to living with us. We were extactic- naturally, but none of us more so than Mom.

I still dont know exactly what it cost Dad to do it- and the implications in his job, but I do know that he’s never been more happy- neither has my mom.

And the best part is when we (my sis and I) sent Mom and Dad off together for a short trip nearby, they returned early because they were “bored without us”.

Yet when I see them together, Dad’s teasing- Mom’s sarcastic resonse- I just know I am beyond lucky to have grown up with them- and I just instictively know it would have been the same even if I didn’t share genes with them.

Till today I see them asking each other the simplest things, I have to remind Dad to buy Mom flowers for their anniversary and my sis explains Dad would be home on time if his job allowed for it- and I just am filled with warmth.

This is my family. They are where I came from- I have all genes in me, Mom’s curiosity and Dad’s lack of, Mom’s temper and Dad’s practicallity, and all their other genes, recessive or dominant.

I can choose to be like either of them as per the moment purely because I have both of them in me.

I woke up to my Dad teasing my mom today. I woke up startled, but when I realized what had wakedned me, I couldnt help but smile.

My parents. Seperation, five or more years of adolescence from 2 girls (and mine was especially bad), all our house moving, the job pressures- nothing kept them apart.

Of course they still fight- but who doesn’t? Its in their compromises I read the love.

Almost all my life I said to myself, I made me. This could have been becasue it was “cool” to say it, or because in my ignorance I really believed it.

But now I know better.

I am who I am- because of my parents. Whether they directly influenced me or I learnt from the lessons they went through, I know I am who I am because I grew up with them.

Because they looked after me, care for me and loved me unconditionally.

And, I might add, they are still hip in their own ways, despite being my parents and all.

Dad wanted to teach us how to drive- and he did without turning grey. Mom loves my music and when she walks into my room, she increases the volume.

My parents. I dont say it often enough, but I love them and more importantly I respect them.

I never thought I’d say it, but I find myself forced to. Here goes-

Thank god for arranged marriages!

He is silent, helpful, clever and one of the most principled people I have ever met.

She has a great sense of humour, a flair for giving advice, passion for life and a great love for music.

Neither of them have PhDs, but he has a masters from IIT Delhi and she is a gold medalist from one of the best universities here.

To you they might be partially interesting strangers, to me and my sister, they are Mom and Dad.

When they’d gotten married, they barely knew each other, a near scandalizing thought to me. I cannot imagine it- even when faced with proof of it day in and day out.

Dad’s got a soothing presence, while Mom’s constant moving has me feeling like a lazy bum.

When I want a hug, just… because, I go to dad. When I have a problem, I run to mum- and then get a hug anyway.

Sometimes, even that reverses. Throughout my childhood Dad has been the constant pillar I could lean on, and Mom the one who helped me fight my demons.

But that was nothing more than “Mom and Dad” for me. That’s what they were there for, right?

Dad’s job in the Navy and then in ship building caused him to leave us a lot  in the middle, and that was my wake up call.

Suddenly things had changed. Mom was working, but she also played the role of Mom and Dad. Of course Dad’s daily (or 3 times a day) phone calls helped too.

He visited us once a month or so- and you could literally hear the house sign in relief as the madness slowed down to a crawl around him.

And all through, for me, he was “Dad”.

Now I am old enough to see that if either of them wanted, they could have bailed on us anytime. There was no need for Dad to shunt up and down so much, to call so much and overwork himself. There was no need for mom to face our adolescence alone either, while managing a difficult boss at her job, no need for her to face the tension about what our exams meant for our future.

Either of them could have stopped caring and thought about themselves- it takes less than a second to do so.

But when the going got tough- Mom and Dad stood by what was best for us, not caring what it could mean for them.

So what did it mean for them?

Dad finally shunned his job that far off from us and took a transfer to one that would bring him back to living with us. We were ecstatic- naturally, but none of us more so than Mom.

I still dont know exactly what it cost Dad to do it- and the implications in his job, but I do know that he’s never been more happy- neither has my mom.

And the best part is when we (my sis and I) sent Mom and Dad off together for a short trip nearby, they returned early because they were “bored without us”.

Yet when I see them together, Dad’s teasing- Mom’s sarcastic response- I just know I am beyond lucky to have grown up with them- and I just instinctively know it would have been the same even if I didn’t share genes with them.

Till today I see them asking each other the simplest things, I have to remind Dad to buy Mom flowers for their anniversary and my sis explains Dad would be home on time if his job allowed for it- and I just am filled with warmth.

This is my family. They are where I came from- I have all genes in me, Mom’s curiosity and Dad’s lack of, Mom’s temper and Dad’s practicality, and all their other genes, recessive or dominant.

I can choose to be like either of them as per the moment purely because I have both of them in me.

I woke up to my Dad teasing my mom today. I woke up startled, but when I realized what had wakened me, I couldn’t help but smile.

My parents. Separation, five or more years of adolescence from 2 girls (and mine was especially bad), all our house moving, the job pressures- nothing kept them apart.

Of course they still fight- but who doesn’t? Its in their compromises I read the love.

Almost all my life I said to myself, I made me. This could have been because it was “cool” to say it, or because in my ignorance I really believed it.

But now I know better.

I am who I am- because of my parents. Whether they directly influenced me or I learnt from the lessons they went through, I know I am who I am because I grew up with them.

Because they looked after me, care for me and loved me unconditionally.

And, I might add, they are still hip in their own ways, despite being my parents and all.

Dad wanted to teach us how to drive- and he did without turning grey. Mom loves my music and when she walks into my room, she increases the volume.

My parents. I don’t say it often enough, but I love them and more importantly I respect them.

I never thought I’d say it, but I find myself forced to. Here goes-

Thank God for arranged marriages!

Rantings of the now 19-year-old.

Sometimes I feel so inexplicably… trapped… it just feels so surreal and inexplicable.

I feel way more restless than I normally ever would… ever. I find the urge inside of me to do something- anything! and yet I cant seem to curtail the feeling that there is nothing there for me to do!

Sometimes I just want to break free.. . free from what I’m not quite sure, but free, truly so.
I want, no crave a life which is much more… rich, fulfilling and definately more satisfying than the one I lead now…

I’d like for the colors in my life to glow, to be more than just the dull black, white and grey… I’d love for vibrance, taste and excitement to flow in and out as they please, for the colors to tease and ease my temper, for me to experience the richest of tastes and I’m not talking just about food, although that in itself is another thing I dream of.

Food that simply melts in my mouth, a thousand flavours teasing my senses, a book that keeps me glued to a sofa, making me forget myself, life and time as a whole, a movie that has me wishing it wouls last for much longer, a painting that makes my fingers itch to feel the texture and trace out the outlines, a dress that floats on me and feels like a dream, a house that I could explore and get lost in, a car I could just drive on as it purs in encouragement, a song that stays in my head throughout the day and makes me smile, a friend whos comfortable silences leave me content, a night with the stars oh-so-bright, not a cloud in the sky, a morning thats crystal clear, a rainy afternoon and an evening of entertainment, and i just float on like that…

Too much to ask… No, not really. I just want a life of variety, one which has both ups and downs, and even some moments of dullness for me to catch my breath. I want to live in a house with bright vivid colours, a house with the view of a lake or something, which in turn would be my little hideout.

I want a circle of deep, trusting friends, a group of us who understand each other and do nothing more than hang out with each other and in that respect, show each other that we care.

I want to eat flavours that are simply devine- melting, teasing, tempting and yet utterly satisfying.

I want the loyalty and the warmth of a pet in the house, which will get me through the loneliest of days.

I want a life,  which so much in it that I would feel lifetimes aren’t enough.

I want to have happy dreams, not ones where I long for more.

I am happy with what I have now- or so I feel. But I am restless- because I want more- and I know its on offer somewhere, sometime for me. The question remains, will I get it? And if so, will it be the right time for me?

All this ranting is pointless, but its an outlet, a way to say I need more, I want more- but I’ll survive and do what I can to get it.

Time is cruel.

Rain On Me

I dont ask for much
But when i do, I ask it sincerely
I’d dont need those green bucks
Just rain on me fiercely

Feed me no honey
Pour me no wine
Rain water on me-
Thats what i call devine

Let me lay there
As the water falls
Feeling stripped and bare
Breaking past my walls

Drop by drop they splash on me
Drop by drop they seize me
Drop by drop they intrigue me
Drop by drop they release me

Rain- it controls me
Rain- it posses me
The steady beating of the drops
Have me begging never to stop

Grey skies, rough winds,
Whisting gale, lightning and thunder
I stand amidst with a wide grin
Staring out with awe and wonder

Pelt me more- take me away from reality
Roll away all that numbing pain
Take with you all my insanity
And leave behind nothing- but rain

Wash away my fears
Mingle with my tears
Lift me up with the wind
Happiness to me you bring

Rain
At the crack of dawn or peak of night
Rain
Leave me not
Rain
You make me strong, bring inner light
Rain
Be with me when everyone else has gone.

Liza No, Liza Yes.

Liza No.
Liza Yes.

Liza, that voice! sing us a song, oh do!
Whose making all that racket? Oh Liza! It’s you.

Liza, you’ve lost weight! Good for you!
Liza go on a diet- i could name a few…

Liza, don’t like boys, you’re too young to understand.
You’re not with a boy? Heavens! You should be banned!

Liza be nice, to others always be true.
Liza don’t be nice, people will take advantage of you.

Liza, work hard for the future. Give up now for what you can have later.
Liza, these are your golden days. If you don’t have fun now, you never will.

Liza, Study, its the only way to go.
Liza, don’t just study- you must learn to grow.

Liza take your meds, you’ll recover faster.
Liza, drugs’ll kill you. You must be your own master .

Liza you’ll live till a ripe age of eighty five or so.
Liza, you’re dying, no chance for you to grow old.

Liza you’re so mature, so meek and mild.
Liza, stop that! You’re behaving like a child.

Liza, I love you, in ways you’ll never see.
Liz, go away, you’re bothering me.

Liza, listen carefully, its important for you to socialize.
Liza, its majority of the population you must learn to despise.

Liza be impulsive, make the mad dash!
Tell me honestly Liza, do you have to be so rash?

Liza smile, you’ve nothing to cry about.
Have you forgotten the burden of the world? Cry now!

Liza you’re pretty, even under stress.
Why is it Liza, you always look like a mess?

Liza you have an eye for clothes and jewelery.
Why, Liza, can’t you ever dress properly?

Liza you’re so generous, you really must stop!
Liza have a heart, you selfish blob.

Liza, you must always have a plan.
Hey Liza! Relax! Go with the flow, man!

Liza that haircut!You look great without even trying!
What’s with the messy hair? Don’t you feel like dying?

Liza, sleep now, you need the rest.
What? Four hours not enough for your best?

Liza stop, don’t make another move.
Get a move on, Liza! Join the groove.

Liza, we’re not contradictory.
We only differ each other slightly.

Liza enough now get some rest.
What are you slacking for! Study for the test!

Liza jump.
Liza don’t.

Liza Yes.
Liza No.

Life’s a B*tch!

For my friends and family alike-
I recently found a treasure i just had to share it.

Murphy’s Law and other reasons why things go gnorw! By Authur Block. Volume 1.

If anything can go wrong, it will.

Everything takes longer thank you think.

If there is a possibility of several things going wrong, the one that will cause the most damage will be the one to go wrong.

Left to themselves, things tend to go from bad to worse.

Whenever you set out to do something, something else must be done first.

Every soulution breeds new problems.

It is impossible to make anything foolproof becasue fools are so ingenious.

Nature always sides with the hidden flaw.

Smile… tomorrow will be worse.

Matter will be damaged directly proportional to its value.

Everything goes wrong at once.

If you’re feeling good, don’t worry. You’ll get over it.

Don’t lose heart… They might want to cut it out… And they want to avoid a lengthy search.

There is always an easier way to do it.

When things are going well, something will go wrong.

When things just can’t get any worse, they will.

Anytime things appear to be going better, you’ve overlooked something.

Proposals, as understood by the proposer, will be judged otherwise by others.

If you explain so clearly that nobody can misunderstand, then somebody will.

No matter what goes wrong it will probably look right.

If an experiment works, something has gone wrong.

Once a job is fouled up, anything done to improve it only makes it worse.

A shortcut is the longest distance between two points.

Everything put together falls apart sooner or later.

Things get worse under pressure.

Watch this space, more to come…

My Best Friend

She’s short, bouncy, has natural maroon hair, a sharp nose, features one would never forget, a lovely laugh, a beautiful smile, built like a ballet dancer and moves just as gracefully.

Me, on the other hand- I’m tall, about as graceful as a banana, have dull brown hair, a dent on my abnormally large nose, look a set apart from everyone else and have been told by an awful number of people that I walk like a guy. Oh, and apparently when I’m nervous, I come off as arrogant.

She gets along with anybody, independent of the sex, size, age and type. She can be lovable and cute, especially since she appeals to everyone.

I couldn’t be popular if my life depended on it.

We’re almost of the same age, from the same place and have astoundingly similar ideas sometimes.

She’s my best friend, and I hers.

Sometimes, I wonder how.

She gets along with everybody, I only wish I could. She could look beautiful even as a mess, I take an hour just to look acceptable- and she- she thinks she’s just like me. Makes me wonder how much she knows me at all.

She thinks it’s cool to point middle fingers at people we don’t like. I prefer the coward’s way of ignoring the crowd- and tell myself I’m being grown up.

 I’m a compulsive planner- down to the minutes, sometimes- she never, ever, ever is on time.

She loves talking to just about any guy- ask her, she’s got millions of “friends”. I get excited if a guy wants to talk to me more than once, because it’s that hard to believe.

For her life is a movie- so is mine, but I always wonder if it’s about me, or if I’m a supporting role to someone else’s life.

For me love is way too rare to find with just about anyone. She loves everyone with an open heart, and unfortunately this is especially true in every relationship she enters.

Life, sadly, is not about me. Lucky for her, so far her life has been about nobody else.

I love her. She is my greatest friend, my confidant, the one I know I could rely on, no matter what.

The reverse is true. She loves me back and I know it. We’ve been there for each other, through thick and thin- we’ve stood the test of time etc, etc, etc.

But only recently did I discover the difference between her thoughts and mine.

I have no fear of her reading this- she often won’t until I specifically tell her to, yet she tells me she’s a big fan of my writing.

On the off chance that she does however, I’d like to make it very clear that I still love her, care for her and I hope she understands that I had to do this. I had to write down how I felt about her because I’m worried sick about her and it isn’t doing me any good. I need to do something- anything- and this was the best I could come up with, since blunt words seem to bounce right off her.

Where do I even start to explain what’s wrong in this seemingly perfect friendship?

I think I should first shed light on the core difference between the two of us.

She is gullible, innocent, naive and childish. I used to love that about her- still do actually. It’s just- well, we’re almost twenty now. Time to grow up?

Friends are there for you, no matter what, through all the bullshit, through the good times and the bad. When the going gets tough, they’re the first people who stick by you. 

Both me and her- we strongly believe that. We also have another common best friend, the smart one- the one that figured this all out a long time ago. The sensible, brilliant, beautiful best friend who I should have listened to a very long time ago.  Together, I honestly feel, we ARE unbeatable. To her I ask, do you think if you were here too, she wouldn’t be headed for disaster? Maybe if we both put our heads together and intervened- you think we could change what now is inevitable?

My best friend believes that friends stick around when no one else will. She counts on it. Therein lies our difference. Me, on the other hand- I would try to avoid, at all costs, to put my friends in a difficult situation, and if I fail at that- then they would help me just by being there for me. 

For her, every time something goes wrong- which it does, so often, I rush to her rescue and even if it is her fault it happened, I find myself cursing along with her, the people that caused the crisis. She hits so many lows, falls down so many times- and every time I help I wonder, does she expect me to do this, or does she realize I’m doing it at my own expense?

She lives in a fairy tale- live for today and damn the consequences. I know that’s how you should live, I agree with it a 100%, but you should know where to draw the line for reality, and where doing whatever you feel like tends on the borderline of rude and spoilt.

My friend is neither, just hopelessly confused. She still believes she is fifteen, and it’s okay to give out your number to any creep who asks. She doesn’t know when to bail from a relationship and when to stick around to try to make it work. 

Love might be real, but it’s rare and a crush does not count. If you’re never happy it’s not worth it. And frankly I am tired of being dragged in the middle by both parties, tired of having random strangers walk up to me, using pet-names only my family and closest friends are allowed to use.

I’m tired of jumping every time she tells me she made a new friend, “just like us” and how a few months later he shocked her by asking her out. I’m tired of her forgiving them so easily and going back to being friends with them at the drop of a hat.

In fact, I’m tired of her being in such absolute denial towards the real world. Sweetheart, it’s a cruel world, I know that, but pretending it’s not is not going to change ANYTHING. It’s time for the rose-tinted glasses to come off, it’s time you saw people for who they really are.

It’s like she’s headed for disaster- nothing I or anyone else says seems to penetrate her head. A part of me wants her to have that sudden shock- a rude awakening before it’s too late and she has a past she wouldn’t be able to accept easily. Another part of me doesn’t want her to lose her innocence that is so uniquely hers- god knows what would become of her if she lost her belief in mankind.

How can I bare to watch my best friend headed for disaster? How do I not interfere in her life, knowing if I did, I’d only make it worse for her? How do I look away as it happens and watch her struggle from a distance?

I once read an article about a friendship between two people, ending somewhere along the lines of one saying they stuck around for so long because the other one needed them- and that was the true meaning of friendship. I thought that was a vain and selfish thought- but now I understand it like I never did before.

She needs me, because when the ball falls, and it will, her so-called friends who pretend to love her now because they find her amusing- all of them will desert, some might even want to take advantage of her vulnerability- yet me and our common best friend- we will stick around, help her build her life back with the pieces of her old one. And we will do this silently and efficiently- because we knew it all along- we saw it coming and we knew there would be no way around it.

My best friend deserves better- much more than the plastic life she’s leading now, the one she seems to be enjoying so much. My best friend deserves the world, because she has a heart of gold- and people like her are hard to find. 

I love her- and she me. She gives me strength when I am low, and I vow to do the same for her, when she needs it the most.

Top Fav TV shows

This is just the beginning, to what I hope will be a long line of my “top fav” lists.
In no particular order, here are my top fav TV shows (some are over and done with while others battle on…)

1. Buffy- The Vampire Slayer.

What I really like about this- and make note, because this reason is bound to crop up alot, is a woman who (pardon my language) kicks ass!
The smart dialogues and come backs in the fight scenes lighten the mood to something that can become intensely emotional or action..ey.
The second you feel, maybe Buffy is getting too hung up in her own emotions- there errupts a fight or something completely satisfying to make you keep your eyes peeled for the up coming scenes.
Although this particular photo doesn’t have my second fave character(Spike), after Buffy, I have to say most of the cast is good and their acting is convincing enough. All in all, I thoroughly enjoyed Buff through all its seasons and wish it didn’t end.

2. How I Met Your Mother

Of course we have, the really funny, How I Met Your Mother. The characters are awesome- very life-like, going through things people like me (us normal souls without extra-ordinary powers) can relate to.And although, yes sometimes the story does have a ‘happy ending’ or a moral to it, but more often than not, it completely suits the flow. And the actors are really good- delivering the dialogues with precision and timing. The jokes are not the kind that bouncy-off you either, these you can sit down and narrate,  secretly wishing you could use some of them. Can’t wait for the nest episode to come out.

3. Top Gear

Anybody who’s crazy about cars will absolutely LOVE top gear. It’s not just any normal car-TV-show, mainly because you can be a newbie in the car world and still understand what these guys are talking about. Theyare refreshingly original, absolutely honest about their opinions on the cars they review (I mean, zero diplomacy!) and at the same time really, really funny. They talk about the right kind of stuff to appeal to anyone watching the TV show, and best of all is they way they behave with each other. So casual, so normal, so informal, it just makes you want to be like one of them or just hang out with him almost instantly. I can’t wait to get my hands on their latest season.

4. Full House

Remember this old TV series? How I’d wait impatiently throughout the week, fiddling with my thumbs and chewing my teeth just waiting for the next episode of Full House. Being a little girl myself back then, growing up with Full house, I had three TV characters I could relate with. And wouldn’t you know it, i loved “Uncle Jesse” the best. But I do remember seeing myself in Michelle, Stef and DJ through the years, and sometimes even Becky. I loved Joe with all his weird noises and Danny reminded me of Mom. I never knew Michelle was twins until almost the very end. And, obviously, I loved almost every episode of Full House.

5. Two And A Half Men

What’s not to like about two men, one a practical loser and the other a lucky playboy, trying to raise a young kid in a beach house? Charlie Sheen doesn’t always have the perfect expression for every dialogue but heck he makes me laugh anyway.  It’s ridiculous how a stalker,  an insane-ish ex-wife,  a selfish mother and a weight-lifting housekeeper all come together with the men and make this TV series incredibly funny! It is the good brother (who always loses) against the rake (who always gets lucky)… And the combination is awesome! So glad there are more episodes to come.

6. Two Guys, A Girl And A Pizza Place

A really old one. I barely remember the episodes, but I do know I used to love them. The name was later changed to “Two guys, and a girl” if I’m not mistaken- by then the show had taken off. It was a really funny show to do with relationships and friendships, the making and the breakingsof them and more importantly, food! It’s too bad they ended though, I’d just love to see this series again.

7. The Big Bang Theory

4 geeks, one hot chick. the result is an explosion of complexities mixed with simplicity. The jokes are really good. I laugh so bad, sometimes I’m forced to hit pause just so i can finish laughing.
The “Beauty and the geek” theme that they have going is really fascinating to watch too. I highly recommend a dose of Big Bang Theory for anyone in a bad mood. 

8. LOST

Of  all the prior mentioned TV series I guess this one is the most serious and dramatic. The only problem with this series, however is that each episode is around 44 minutes long- which makes it hard to watch them at a go- and trust me, you’ll want to watch these in one go because the story is AWESOME, not to mention thrillin and dramatic. It’ll have you on the edge of your seat from beginning to end. All I have to do is set aside a hefty amount of time to continue watching from where I left off.

9. Scrubs

The funniest hospital TV show I’ve ever seen. I honestly wish I was a doctor sometimes just so I could experience even a fraction of what’s going on on that show. Not all the relationship parts- the way they interact with each other.

 I love that chemistry they all seem to have with each other. And Dr. Cox, even though I know the actor himself could not be responsible for all those jokes that he makes on screen- but My God, he’s excellent! His expressions are… PERFECT! I cant seem to control my laughter everytime he talks in that sarcastic tone of his.

10. Friends

The fabulous, hilarious, extremely popular F.R.I.E.N.D.S

Whether people have seen even an episode or not everyone claims to love it. Which is stupid- because if you were to watch even one episode,

 there’d be no way you’d stop.

 Each charater here has a unique humor-

 

 Joey’s stupid, Chandler (I LOOOOVE him) is sarcastic, Ross’s face expressions are classic, Rachel’s too feminine, Monika’s a control freak, Pheobe’s weird. There are many, many, many times I find myself quoting one or the other character- a thing I’m sure a lot of people do.

11. Sabrina- The Teenage Witch

The way to enjoy this TV series as I realized a few years ago, was by pretending the comic and the sitcom were not related. 

And no, I dont watch it any more, though I’d love to see them all just once more.

 A teenage witch, what’s not to like? Salem- the black, talking cat- the best pet ever! I really really liked this show while it lasted- though the movies were sad and pale in comparission. I admit the movie Sabrina in Rome was okay-ish, the the other KILLED the whole the whole point of the TV series, spinning out a boring, pertictable story.

12. Three’s Company

Oh come on! How could you not remember this? Okay, so it was a really long time ago, but this show defined comedy!! 

Jack, Chrissy and Janet- what a trio! Everytime I think “roommates” these three pop into my head. 

I still remember a lot of their jokes. And lets face it, it was a whole lot of good humoured fun! I always saw myself as Janet even though- yes, I was too young too be thinking of myslef as someone that older than me. Still, they always made me laugh, and the mere mention of the title floods me with warmth .

13. Coupling

 

The funniest dirty TV show I’ve ever seen. And even if it was a little… too dirty at times, I just could not stop watching it. Sad enough there only 4 seasons- and each season has about 8 episodes. Not fair if you ask me. It should have gone on and on, and On!!! I dont know why Jeff didnt appear in the last season-even though i missed him, I guess it pulled off fairly nicely. I like they way the ended it though… Still brings a smile to my face…

14. The Simpsons

Come on… be honest… how many of you heard the theme song in your heads? How many said “doh!” ?? Yes, the Unforgettable Homer, Bart, Marge, Lisa and Magie Simpson… 

Oh man, if people like Homer Simpson actually exist, I’d give my much coveted MP3 player and laptop up 

just to be able to spend the day with him/her! I honestly believe it desreved every one of those awards this TV series won- because it never failed to suprise me. What I really like are the episodes guest appearances play themselves! :) What a Tv show!

 

 

 

Yes, it will be updated with more Tv shows when I get the “How could you forget….????” comments and phone calls, so stayed tuned…

The Real Liza- It’s Who I Am.

Listen up- because I hate repeating myself.

I’m an honest and fair person- at least I try to be. I give everyone a fair chance and a lot of excuses.

I like my friends- its the new relationships I’m come to be weary of. Almost everybody changes their behavior as the relationship progresses- and I hate that.

I refuse to be a victim of high expectations any more. I refuse to try to “change the world”- the world can do whatever it likes as long as it leaves me alone.

I guess what I’m saying is, I’m a loner. And I’ve been burnt way too many times by way too many people to want to start new relationships- platonic or otherwise- with anyone.

I’m happy this way- I get all I want and need from my friends and from myself. I don’t need anything new or anyone new, for that matter.

I don’t need pity. I’ll manage- I always do. With my head held high and eyes that I train not to give away anything- I will survive this till I get to a point I can be normal.

I’ll be honest with you, I’m often written off as arrogant because I don’t express myself and I don’t interact with many people- and I encourage this. It’s easier than trusting people.

I guess it doesn’t help that I look “different”. I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean, but its what I’m told over and over.

Then again, when I look around me in a crowded place teeming to the brim with people of all sorts- I feel a kind of shunning away. Something in my head- its a quiet voice, but I hear the whisper over the loudest noises- and it tells me “You are different. Don’t even bother, fool. You are nothing like them- and no matter how hard you try, you never will be.” And I know its not a lie.

I’ll bet most of those who bothered to read this didn’t understand a word I’m saying- and no, it’s not because they’re stupid or because I consider myself extraodinary. I’m saying that, because- lets face it- how many 18(ish) year old Indian girls living in Vizag actually talk/think/behave like I do? Not that many and none that I’ve met.

I hope I’ve briefed you enough about myself to expect nothing from me. I’m what I’ve made myself and the only person who can change me- is me. In other words, if you want to be my friend because you think my attitude is wrong or something, don’t bother- you cant make me do anything I don’t want to do.

I’m stubborn, temperamental, hot-headed, spontaneous, witty and prone to selfishness.

But that is who I am.

And I like who I am.