I’m going to c…

I’m going to cook today, yes I am. Came home laden with groceries and there was a no-tax-day at Zehr’s. Oh joy, oh serendipity, oh blasted, blasted Canada. Department stores depress me (I’m looking at you Walmart, Zellers, Lulu fucking Hypermarket). Lots of things depress me. The majority of people depress me, or it’s just meh indifference. Nothing depresses the boyfriend at all. He is strange that way. What is there to be depressed about, he asks. And I don’t have an answer. If you put it that way, what indeed. Instead I retreat and feel stupid and a little melodramatic. It’s the chemicals in my brain, I say. And there are so many things in the world that are terrifically hideous, it’s almost not worth it to wake up in the morning- as Anushka says sometimes, when she gets into these states. “But the world is pretty”, he says. And so it is, and maybe he’s right.

A woman gave me her transfer today as I was waiting at the bus stop, weighed down with about four bulging bags of groceries. Maybe it was my face, or maybe it was the day, or maybe she was really nice. I didn’t need it though- I have my Watcard. But it saved me taking it out. A girl I used to know in first year apparently used to talk about me all the time, according to her best friend whom I met in class the other day. I was surprised- but in a slow oh-really way. In fact, “Oh really?”, is how I responded, arching my eyebrows. I don’t see why she’d talk about me. We weren’t close, I didn’t even really know her. There was this one thing with her boyfriend and a text, but it’s all foolishness, and he wasn’t even cute, and I didn’t even care- and. It just goes to show, most of the things we obsess about and worry over and spend all our energy on are in our heads. NOBODY FUCKING CARES, PEOPLE. THEY’RE NOT THINKING ABOUT YOU. They’re thinking about themselves. Like me.

I’m waiting for the kheema to thaw, then I’ll cook it. I’m trying to have a productive day today, let’s see how it goes. The boyfriend is too casual for my good. He says ” I love you”, “I miss you”, like he’s telling me 10+10=20. On being told this, he says, “Well, it’s that self evident.” Is it really? To me it’s not. I can’t make him understand that 90% of the time I feel unloved, unwanted, ungood. Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe I’ll get more chilled out, and start thinking that I am awesome, of course he’s mad about me, he’d be crazy really, not to be. But things need to be said sometimes.



I am your

one note song.

I am ugly,

but devoted.

Like a mole,

I try very hard to dig deep

Into the darkest recesses of your heart.

One day, I will plant a seed there,

Kick up my hind legs and drown it in mud.

A time will come

When you will wake up on a Sunday,

wander to the kitchen,

stand there a minute, blinking and thinking of eggs.

Crisp toast and runny yellow.

You will look out at the bright blue

and suddenly feel a sharp twist

in the centre of your gut.

It is not, as you would be prone to believe-


It is a funnyfeeling.

It belongs to the witchery inside your head.

A word will bubble through to the surface.

Clear, and plain.

Like Calibri.

And you’ll think,


I went out runn…

I went out running today. Came back home from Zoology lab pretty tired, and thinking about the ever present to-do list that looms over my head. I stepped out of the bus, and suddenly it was just this beautiful weather. Canada’s been pretty grumpy and cold lately, like a cantankerous old man. Today was what you’d expect fall to be. I willed myself to walk home and in the two minutes it took me to walk from the bus stop to my building, I suddenly decided, fuck it. Fuck the work. It’ll be there for a bit now. I need to sleep early, and I need to go over things for the umpteenth time and meet a deadline, but the gorgeous weather. It was just calling out to my feet, and the song on my old purple mp3 matched the feeling in my feet, and it had been ages since they’d done any running. I climbed up the stairs, dropped my stuff, shed my jacket, grabbed my keys, and ran out. I ran for something like 45 minutes. Blissful blanking out. Went into territory I hadn’t seen before. There’s a Sugarbush Park around Weber Street. There are red, red leaves on the way. Reminded me a little of Guelph. The stray annoyances from my day wandered into my head, but for the most part my footsteps chased them away.

I came home panting, red faced, with aching legs, and happy.


If I had to pinpoint the one moment when I first knew I was in love with you, it would have to be that evening on the ledge. It was dark, and it was one of those rare summer evenings, which had just the right amount of cool wind, and absolutely none of the damp sticky humidity Calcutta lives with. There were strangers carrying on their own conversation a little distance away and there was music playing on their cell-phones. We had been sitting there a while, alone for a change. We were just talking, occasionally kissing. It was then that I discovered that I didn’t want to stop kissing you, and it had nothing to do with lust, it was just you. I couldn’t get enough of you. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, and my chest was tight, and I remember feeling a little stunned by the sheer intensity of what I was feeling. There was a little comic shade of dismay I remember, at this discovery, and a thrill of excitement as well.

“Love was that moment when your heart was about to burst.” I read this today, on a website. Stieg Larson says it in ‘The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo’. It sparked off this train of thought, because you see, it’s true. That evening right then, I felt like my heart would explode, and I’m so very glad it did. It gets bigger you see, to let in more light, and comfort, and belonging. My legs miss your legs, and my lips miss your lips, but darling, I carry you with me all the time. 

I have never had so many people to love before

Family is like a tree that sinks its roots deep, deep down into you so that after a point you can’t separate it from yourself. To my family: I hate you guys, I love you guys, I could never extricate you from myself.

To Trisha- A friend like you is hard to come by. One needs to be particularly lucky to find someone who with all their own flaws, accepts all of yours, while not necessarily writing them off as okay. We need people to tell us the truth, we need people to see us as so much more than we see ourselves. We need people with whom we feel as comfortable and at home, as we do with family.

To N- You make me surprise myself. I am neither cool, nor detached, nor held back. Nor do you give me much scope to be miserable or go into terrible thought spirals for long. This is amazing, and beautiful, and if I sound like I’m gushing, it’s because I am. I’m not afraid to be weird, or strange or myself around you. It sounds trite, and cheesy, but there it is. It’s such a bigfuckingdeal, it’s insane. I love you, and I’m in love with you, and I will probably club you over the head and kidnap you to Africa one day.

To Squg- You need to stop worrying. You are such an awesome little ball of sunshine, you’re like one of those springs that are coiled up and then you let them go and they bounce all over with this energy. This is not to say that you’re hyper, or manic, or anxious, though you certainly are all of those things. This is to say that there is so much beauty, and goodness in you as a person, it is astonishing. I love you, I do. You are very easy to love, very easy to care about, and very easy to miss in such a short span of time. I truly, truly wish only good things for you.

There are more, but three seems like a good number for now.


1. Pick out a scar you have, and explain how you got it:
Above my left eyebrow. The story goes that I jumped out of my pram (whose belt was conveniently unfastened), and straight onto the rocks of the Corniche. Stitches, galore. Brain damage, likely.

2. What is on the walls in your room?
Menny menny pictures of friends, family, assorted posters of books, films- giant ones would be a huge pop Art Beatles poster, the Iron and Wine poster from the 2011 concert, and giant Bob Dylan poster

3. What does your phone look like?
Like a dabba. Grey with borders of green. Scratched.

4. What music do you listen to?
Acoustic-y indie bluesy rock and roll type stuff. Old hindi music. Jazz. Lots of the Black Keys yesterday.

5. What is your current desktop picture?
A screenshot of bigassmessage thing that boyfriend sent me

6. What do you want more than anything right now?
To get a good, professionally fulfilling, happymaking job. 

7. What are you listening to?
8. The last person to make you cry?
Boyfriend. But it wasn’t his fault so much as his absence.
9. What is your favourite perfume/cologne?
Men’s deo in general. I don’t like floral scents, byas.

10. If you could eat anything right now, what would it be?
Nothing. I lack appetite, I seriously want to eat nothing right now. Thassit, call the suicide hotline now. 

11. Who was the last person you made mad?
Myself. All evening after lab let off.

Things I will do

  • i will get a job
  • i will stop wondering if you really do love me, and if i’m completely wasting my time, and letting my anxieties and insecurities invade everything and eat up my brains and give me ulcers.
  • i will file my own taxes
  • i will apply for scholarships
  • i will cook things and eat them, and not have to grimace and force them down
  • i will apply to lots of places, everywhere, and get it this coming season
  • i will be happy
  • i will call the gramps more often
  • i will be more civil, more kind to my family
  • i will learn kickboxing
  • i will meditate
  • i will not procrastinate. i will do what i need to, when i should.
  • i will stop feeling so goddamn isolated and lonely, and propagating it (willfully that too)
  • i will find 3 good things about myself and cultivate them
  • i will be a good friend
  • i will be a good sister
  • i will be a good daughter, grand daughter
  • i will give my creativity room to breathe, and indulge in productive expression
  • i will start taking pictures and chronicling the beauty i find even here
  • i will practice gratefulness for having the life that i do, everyday
  • i will give all the exams i’m supposed to this semester without having a nervous breakdown
  • i will be organized and actually use my planner
  • i will bake myself a birthday cake
  • i will sleep a healthy amount
  • i will read 10 more books by the end of this year
  • i will answer emails on time
  • i will stop putting things off from lethargy (then proceed to feel like shit about myself because i’m not doing anything because i put it off because i was lethargic because i feel like shit about myself because..)
  • i will stop dropping friends like they’re hot whenever it strikes my fancy
  • i will get my voice back
  • i will contribute something positive to society
  • i will feel good about the way i look, not through delusion, but by conscious effort and acceptance
  • i will stop whining and start fixing things
  • i will print out pictures of all the new us’s and put them up
  • i will sort through my clothes and declutter
  • i will make use of the blue wool
  • i will figure out a way to find my calm without frantically calling up whomever i happen to be feeling manically close to atm

I feel so horri…

I feel so horribly unaccomplished and lazy and just – ashamed of even existing and not doing the things i should be doing, because i’m that fucking lazy that i just don’t feel like it. the closer i come to you, and the more i see of people, the more i despise myself. maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s the nip in the air that never quite leaves me, maybe this self loathing, this dark, black, sticky, splotchy thing will never, ever, ever go away.

My feet are col…

My feet are cold. My toes are perpetually cold these days 😦 It’s the middle of September, people. It’s still supposed to be shorts-weather! Outrage. Just utter and total outrage. The Great White North could not give any less of a shit about our collective outrage if it tried.