tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252701942376832622024-02-19T15:46:39.824+05:30A justified randomnessMalvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.comBlogger35125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-11455022433720247872023-06-20T20:17:00.000+05:302023-06-20T20:17:01.267+05:30Unspoken and Unheard<p> I am sorry</p><p>These words are said so often</p><p>Almost worn thin</p><p>But never have I meant them more before</p><p><br /></p><p>So much you could have been</p><p>A bundle of wonders, hopes and dreams</p><p>A lot of him, a little bit of me</p><p>Or maybe just a wholly new you</p><p><br /></p><p>Maybe in a different time, a different world</p><p>Or maybe if I were as courageous as I always believed myself to be</p><p>Breaks my heart like I never knew possible</p><p>Every moment, every day</p><p><br /></p><p>What words will make this okay? </p><p>People are sharing love and support for me</p><p>But who will care for you? </p><p>Because the one who was supposed to, turned away the first chance she got</p><p><br /></p><p>Maybe it was never meant to be</p><p>What else can I tell myself? </p><p>I will always carry a heart made heavier with grief</p><p>For a love I never knew but lost</p>Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-90194293492820401192013-06-19T04:14:00.000+05:302013-06-19T04:14:16.234+05:30For love<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
You lie there, catching your quickened breath after another bout of lovemaking. At least that's what he calls it. For you, it is just another successful attempt at clinging on to an unsuccessful existence.<br /><br />
You lie there, on that same crumpled, yellowing comforter, with a cigarette burn from last Thursday night. Last Thursday night, when you needed to feel something. When the emptiness was swallowing you whole, so you decided to let him devour your self-worth instead. When his hand on your breast seared you to the bone, and you shivered with the sudden onset of feeling upon your being, no matter how loathsome.<br /><br />You lie there, with the same Damien Rice song playing over and over again. You are sick of the song, but most of all, you are sick how loudly it rings in your ears and your head and your heart; 'Did I say that I loathe you? Did I say that I want to leave it all behind?'<br /><br />You lie there, the clock ticking eerily loud. Four hours and three orgasms later, waves and waves of disgust are still washing over you like massive unexpected torrents. The astonishing part? There's a sick satisfaction filling in your punctured soul.<br /><br />You lie there, a mess of both of you dripping on to the bed, adding on to the numerous stains. The warmth of it strikes hard against the sheer deathly coldness of the act that brought it about in the first place. The stains all mock you silently, bearing witness to a love sabotaged repeatedly.<br /><br />You lie there, clutching and unclutching the comforter into your fists, rendering your fingers numb. The feeling of his lips on you, of him moving inside you, of a shuddering end, all of it made your head spin and your eyes water. But you couldn't shake off that feeling of having triumphed over your sense of right and wrong you were so determined to hold close this time around.<br /><br />You lie there, complete with your freckles and that slight bruise on your wrists, where he tied you to the bed and rendered you helpless. Ha, such a naive soul, this one. You had already brought that upon yourself a long time ago. It didn't bother you anymore.<br /><br />You lie there, staring at his chest rising and falling softly, at the mole right below his heart, at his slightly open mouth. You can't understand the reason behind his strong, ever-strengthening hold on you. Why a single phone call turns into a night of indifferent intimacy, why a kiss turns into sweat and those fleeting moments of heaven.<br /><br />You lie there, and you will lie there. Till the dusk conquers twilight and gives way to the dawn. Till he wakes up and touches you again and you just keep moving mechanically, basking in the shame of letting yourself be used. Till he makes false promises of maybe loving you someday, and you giving him a hollow smile, acknowledging the lie that you both just shared.<br /><br />You lie there; breathing, staring, being.<br />You lie there; loathing, fighting, losing.<br />You lie there; missing, craving, longing.<br /><br />And then you'll walk out, clothed yet naked, and you will never hate yourself more.<br />And in that moment, you'll be hit by the blow of the love you loathe to love.<br /><br /></div>
Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-2142292007757959962012-09-15T22:18:00.001+05:302012-09-15T22:18:12.552+05:30Who's the biggest sinner of 'em all?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
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<i><u>NOTE</u> : Purely an attempt at making the Writer's Bock go away. So the piece isn't very well structured. OR written, for that matter. Bear with me please. </i><br />As she was sitting in her balcony sipping on her morning cup
of coffee, her mind started going numb. The dishonesty, the manipulations, the falsehood,
everything sucked the life out of her being. It was difficult existing here,
you know? It was a task to not be dysfunctional. Thinking, pondering,
discarding, giving up…a life so predictable, so hollow. Mirth? Myth.<br />
<br />
And then, a sudden chill coursed through every fiber of her being. Jolted her,
gripped her. Her heart skipped a beat, her thoughts muddled. She opened her
eyes; opened them slowly and cautiously. The feeling was beyond human, almost
supernatural. What happened? Did the world change in that one split second? Why
did everything look so different, so…STILL? <br />
<br />
All of a sudden, it hit her. The world just froze. Life stood still. Literally,
metaphorically, in every way imaginable. The old lady with her rosary beads,
gazing emptily into nothingness, her fingers still on the rosary. That quiet
man who lives across the street, transfixed at his doorstep, one leg half in
motion. Those two little sparrows, frozen mid-air like little wisps of polluted
air.<br />
<br />
But then, why not her? Why did the world stand still FOR her, and not WITH her?
She was perplexed beyond limit. Was she doing something wrong? Different? Was
she turning a blind eye to something that needs to be seen, ignoring something
that has been screaming to be heard? So many unresolved questions, doubtful
theories.<br />
<br />
And then she saw it. The lady. Her eyes. Filled with sadness, haunted by the
ghosts of her past. But she had always been the cheerful one in the neighborhood,
with her rosemary and kind words accompanying her everywhere. But now, with all
the flitting and fidgeting eliminated, she saw into her soul. The sadness was
eerie, unsettling. <br />
<br />
The man. The quiet, docile gentleman, caught mid-step. His eyes were SCREAMING
to be heard. There was SO much running through his head, coursing through his
veins, begging to be let free from the chained bond of fears and apprehensions.
All his soul wanted was to be heard, to bare it all. Yet, there he was, his
hand clutched tightly across his briefcase, turning his knuckles white. There
he was, sabotaging his inner self with pursed lips and escapist gazes.<br />
<br />
That little girl on the swings. Eyes mourning a trust betrayed, a truth
plundered. An innocence marred by a strange hint of gloom. A lonely childhood
enveloping her being, closing in on her happiness. Till now, she was just
another pretty little girl in a summer dress. Now, she’s an epitome of mystery
beyond comprehension.<br />
<br />
And just like it came, it went away in a jiffy. The beads started moving(A
smile across gardens followed). The feet moved on from the doorstep towards the
car(a nervous glance towards the balcony followed). The swing went higher and
higher(a hollow smile followed).<br />
<br />
That’s when the realization dawned upon her, leaving her aghast. Everyone
carries their own unfair share of grief around, their own set of ghosts of the
past. Every one of them is haunted by one evil or the other, disrupting the
normalcy of life, giving the façade away. Her devils aren’t hers alone. Every
soul has a part of it. Breaking people apart, piece by piece, lie by lie,
sorrow by sorrow. She wasn’t alone; lonely, yes. Alone, no. <br />
<br />
Those few seconds transformed the way she looked at life. There’s no sin
insignificant enough to be eradicated, no sin grave enough to be overpowered by
it. It is there, it is who we are. Sinners. We live, breathe, feed on them.
Sins. We, the sinners. <br />
<br />
And one of these days, all the sins in the world shall amalgamate to constitute
a vice so overwhelming, its mere presence shall drive all the good in the world
away. <br />
And then, we’ll be one. Us. The Sinners. We shall be one. A world of lies, a
world of manipulations, a world of dishonesty, a world of gloom…….but
nonetheless, the a world shared.<br />
<br />
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Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-76342327169221065502012-05-17T18:07:00.001+05:302012-05-17T18:07:13.868+05:30Le Beau Ideal<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Her beauty is inexplicable. It is beyond words, beyond songs, beyond ballads, beyond poetry and prose, beyond the feeble power of any form of mortal communication. <br />
Beautiful eyes. Big, black, pure eyes, with a hint of conflicting sadness. Eyes that have seen her through situations unmentionable, and yet and keen on embracing every moment with the most glorious of twinkles. Eyes that look at him with insurmountable, insane and incredible love. Eyes that drink him in with their mystique and power to captivate even the most callous of souls. Beautiful eyes.<br />
Delicious lips. Uneven, yet the epitome of perfection. A full, ripe, quivering lower lip and a thin, hardly-there upper one. Lips that talk without speaking, emote without moving. A smile that pierces her eyes, radiating beauty that's almost unbearable.<br />And that perfectly synchronised dance that her eyes and lips perform together? A stolen glance with a mischievous smile, a caressing gaze with a knowing spreading of her lips. Ah! The sheer magnificence of it could make you cry.<br />Her uneven, small teeth. The way she presses her lips between them, each time she fails to get away with a prank, arouses you in a way nothing else ever can.<br />They way her jaw moves oh-so-mildly every time her lips utter melodious words. Her voice. Hypnotising, mesmerising. How it wraps you in endless warmth every time you hear it.<br />Her skin, with all its unevenness and imperfections, is the embodiment of perfection to you. The freckles, the crinkling the skin around her eyes every time she cringes at something you say, the lifting up of her cheeks every time you plant a kiss upon them, the radiance of it every time a bead of sweat rolls off her forehead.<br />The way her unruly hair fall around her face. Fall over her eyes, across her delicate forehead, stick to the nape of her neck.....her beautiful, slender neck. The way it sways every time she turns to look at you, the way it arches every time you make love to her, the way it twitches every time you kiss it.<br />The way the small of her back fits perfectly under your hands. The way the fat around her waist helps you hold on to her tighter.<br />How her lithe hands play with yours, blessing them with their short-lived moment of grace. You can SEE how perfect that ring you are going to give her is going to look on her right hand.<br /><br />She is beyond beautiful to you. So intense that you want to cup her in your palms and keep her there forever. Protect her from the gashes this cruel life might inflict on her. Keep her safe in the store of your heart, let her live off you.<br /><br />She is beyond beautiful to you.. ONLY to you, maybe? Who knows? But then, who even cares?<br /><br />They were right, weren't they?<br />Love can't be put into words. Her beauty can't be put into words.<br />It is beyond words, beyond songs, beyond ballads, beyond poetry....</div>Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-62083668901006604782012-04-09T06:52:00.001+05:302012-04-09T06:52:58.780+05:30Destroyed restoration<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Pick me. Pick at me. Pick at every part. Pick at every fibre of my being. Pick me. Pick me apart.<br />
Scatter them. Scatter them all on the ground. Scatter them like they mean nothing. Scatter them like they aren't me. Scatter me apart.<br />
Lick them. Lick each one of them. Lick each piece at a time. Lick it off of every emotion to have coursed through me. Lick me apart.<br />
Stomp over them. stomp over all the ghastly pieces. Stomp over the words unspoken, the memories yet to be perfected, the love yet to be immortalised. Stomp over my existence. Stomp me apart.<br />
Redesign them. Redesign each one of them. Redesign them to suit your thoughts, your feelings, your insecurities. Redesign me to be you. Redesign me apart.<br />
Cut through the rotten ones. Cut through the dreams, the aspirations, the moments of pride. Cut through them, stab the fucking life out of them. Cut through me. Cut me apart.<br />
Pick me. Pick me up. Pick up every piece. Pick up every fallen part of me. Pick me together.<br />
Reassemble them. Reassemble the hope, the life, the glint in the eye. Reassemble them to be me. Reassemble me together.<br />
Caress them. Caress every piece. Caress every emotion, every tear, every smile back into them. Caress me. caress me together.<br />
Cater to the bruises you left. Cater to every gashed attempt, every bruised love, every dented success. Cater to me. Cater me together.<br />
Restore me. Restore every piece of me. restore my mistakes, my successes, my insecurities, my strength. Restore me. Restore me together.<br />
Glue me. Glue every fibre of my being back together. Glue me back together to form a perfectly imperfect person. Glue me. Glue me back together.<br />
<br />
I am back. I am here, and I am back. I am breathing, and I am back. I am dreaming, and I am back. I am striving, and I am back.<br />
<br />
I am back. I am me. Or am I you?<br />
I am back. I am living my life. Or am I living yours?<br />
<br />
I am back. I am restored. Or I am destroyed to be you?<br />
<br />
Am I you?<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br /></div>Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-30499007256547830042012-04-08T03:54:00.004+05:302012-04-08T04:23:01.001+05:30Writer's Block go away, come again another day. REALLY. :|So, I won't count this as a post. It is essentially a desperate attempt at getting rid of the writer's blog that has been plaguing me ever since January now.<br />This might go from random to boring to plain nonsensical. So please, bear with me.<br />Also, all the new followers of my blog, thank you for appreciating my blog. :)<br /><br />NOTE : The paragraphs aren't related in any way whatsoever. It is random rambling at its best. Or worst, depending on how you see it. So don't waste your time trying to establish connections that aren't intended to exist.<br /><br />I am essentially stuck in a rut of a lot of events presently. What did our humble NCERT call it? Yes, "caught in an ugly middle position". Though this particular phrase always made me grin because of its not-so-holy meaning, this is the only one I could think of. I divulge. Getting back on track, the rut. Yes. School's over, Boards didn't go very well, preparing for an entrance I'm not too sure of and apprehensive about college and its related dimensions. Aren't you just a lil' bit jealous of how perfectly life's fairing for me? :')<br /><br />So that's the reason behind me writing this post at 4 in the morning, sitting in a corner of my room with the most reliable companions of all times : A steaming mug of coffee and a pair of headphones. Sad life, yes. -shrugs-<br /><br />Have you ever had that feeling of getting something you weren't too sure of right? Of being awed at how very perfect it turned out to be? How, even with all its oddities and impossibilities, it is quite possibly the most beautiful thing in your otherwise hueless existence?<br />Amazing, isn't it? :)<br /><br />If someone asks me to pick three words that best describe me, I think I'll go with love, insecurity and art.<br />Bizzare combination? Maybe.<br />But where there's love, there's always this nagging insecurity of losing it, isn't there? It is just that in my case, the insecurity is a bit too pronounced.<br />And art is love. Love is art. <br />Music, colours, words, faces, skies, patterns, emotions, fabrics, places. All if this, and more. Art. Love. Insecurity.<br /><br />You know what calms me like nothing else days? Looking into a child's eyes. The innocence, the purity and the love that resides within them just...HEALS me. I am not a great fan of children mainly because they basically come with self-destruct buttons, but this somehow gets to me. Maybe the child in me? I don't know. But it does.<br /><br />You know what I REALLY want to do? I want to tie my hair loosely, wear random clothes, carry a beautiful notebook, go off to someplace like Italy, and WRITE. Write away to glory. Write till the voice in my head gets exhausted. Till I've used every word I've ever known. till I've depicted every emotion to have coursed through me. Till I'm so tired that I don't feel tired anymore.<br />Of course, a little music won't hurt either.<br />Damien Rice, Birdy, Andrew Belle, Secondhand Serenade, Stateless, Coldplay, The Weepies. The likes, more or less.<br /><br />I hope this will get the "creative juices flowing". ( Pardon the cliches')<br />'Cause if this doesn't, God knows what will.Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-61545640714730375112011-12-27T11:57:00.005+05:302011-12-27T15:35:17.117+05:30But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdoA dark room, with the faintest gleam of light streaming through the overhead dirty-glassed window. So feeble, it almost looks like it is mourning its own advent. The room reeked of a life gone wrong, an existence gone sour. A musky, heavy smell, which makes you want to crumble onto the floor, a humongous pile of fear and regret and dry tears.<br /><br />And in one desolate corner of the room, a dead mortal. An unkempt soul, with her knees huddled close to her chest, her hands moving in sleek precision, her eyes wincing with every small movement her bony hands made. Her mute demeanor screamed of unending pain; a scream heard only by those who've suffered an agony of the same degree, if not higher. <br /><br />The sun shifted in the sky. So did the light streaming in. But as soon as it touched her bare, mucked feet, she scampered deeper into the fort of sorrows she had built all around herself, as if the sunlight was scathing her. A feeble entity, she. <br /><br />Her being shivered with uncertainty, anguish and a lack of will to live. Her scantily clad frame punished for daring to exist, she didn't bother to cover it up. It was like she basked in the moroseness of her life.<br /><br />Her hands started moving all the more furiously. As if she couldn't wait to hurt herself more and more. As if the scabs from the previous deliberate injuries just weren't enough. As if the puddle of blood surrounding her wrist was not enough to be taken into consideration. As if running the blade over the gashes repeatedly would take her hopelessness away in SOME twisted way. Make her feel less betrayed by her own self, make the pain go away, make her feel a bit more alive..Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-85006734735853278322011-11-26T15:29:00.002+05:302011-11-26T15:55:48.573+05:30You. I. 26/11I'm not doing this because it is being done everywhere. On FB, twitter and every possible social platform.<br />I'm not doing this because I want people to know how profoundly it hurt me, how much it shook me up.<br />I'm doing this simply because I want to. Because it is like a boiling lava inside of me, and its time for it to come out.<br /><br />26/11. I saw it. You saw it. The whole world saw it.<br />Saw, and sympathised. Saw, and got worked up. Saw, and demanded for something to be done.<br /><br />But for me, it was different. I can't explain it. and I'm not saying that you are all cold souls for not feeling it as much as I did. No. It was just...different.<br /><br />The first time I saw the news flash across the TV screen, I froze. VERY unlike me, for I generally have storng reactions towards anything and everything. I just sat there, unblinking. <br />I don't have any loved ones in Mumbai. Ones who I'd be scared for, ones whose loss would shatter me.<br />but it still happened. The hurt. It was almost like a PHYSICAL ailment.<br />I sat there for a long time, a hollow expression on my face, not wanting to look, but not wanting to look away either.<br />And then....I broke down. Where it came from, I have NO clue. But I did. Cried like someone close had died.<br /><br />But someone/something HAD, right ? <br />Humanity. <br />Compassion.<br />Brotherhood.<br />Peace.<br />Harmony.<br />Freedom.<br />All of this, and more. Blown up to shreds. <br /><br />IT all happened in a jiffy !<br />Mothers wailing, children crying and blood everywhere. Agonising, unbelievable pain.<br />For me. For all of those who were unlucky enough to be in the wrong place in a horridly wrong time.<br />For thousands of you out there. It gave us goosebumps. Threatened us out of our reverie.<br /><br />Today. Such an ominous day. A sad, SAD day.<br /><br />I'm overwhelmed. This post might not be making sense to you. It isn't making any sense to me either.<br /><br />It is just a venting out exercise. <br /><br />I pray for all those who were scarred by this incident in one way or the other.<br /><br />But then, who am I to pray ? Pray to a God I don't believe in ?<br />Such a hypocrite.Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-75108146117053643062011-11-06T20:13:00.002+05:302011-11-06T20:19:42.796+05:30For it is only the YOU in you that mattersLife has its devious ways of getting right back at you. Just when you thought you sifted your happy ending out of a mess of nightmares, another one comes hurtling towards you with invincible might. The question is, does it destroy you, or does it make you stronger ?<br /><br />Life's anything but fair. you'll have a love gone sour, a friendship crumbled to pieces, admirers turned hostile and a future gone bleak. but you know what hurts the most ? When your own self turns its back on you. THAT is when you hear your heart breaking, your world crumbling down around you, and all the other cliches' you can possibly think of. You were your only hope; your only escape from the harsh realities of the world. You can't give up on yourself !<br /><br />And yet, it happens. Leaves you shattered, alone to pick up the pieces. End of how you knew life, end of the 'you' in yourself.<br /><br />The real challenge isn't in dealing with the situation. The real challenge lies in getting yourself back.<br /><br />Get up, dust yourself and get going ! Your self couldn't have gone too far ! look for it; in every corner of this round world until you find it.<br /><br />And that union, my friend, is the ultimate bliss of all. :)Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-78417721087685419352011-11-03T17:04:00.000+05:302011-11-03T17:05:24.910+05:30I refuse !Make me the mourner of your tragedy<br />The executor of your sins<br />Hear me say this, I refuse to be !<br />Hear me say this, I refuse to let you win!<br /><br />A fire mistaken for calm<br />The calm, for upheaval<br /> As I run away from the nightmares, closer they swarm<br />Hear me say this, I refuse not to feel !<br /><br />The tears were all shed for you<br />(Or so they were thought to be)<br />As you force me to live life through your tainted view<br />Hear me say this, I shut my eyes, I refuse to see !<br /><br />You enter me, my soul exits<br />The venom of your lust courses through my viens<br />Hear me say this, I refuse to be the puzzle peice that fits!<br />Hear me say this, I refuse to let my selfless love be a bane !<br /><br />Hear me say this, I refuse to be bound by a love so sour<br />Hear me say this, I refuse to set my chagrin free<br />Hear me say this, I refuse to let you be in unjust power<br />Hear me say this, I refuse to let you be ME...Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-81311616569529613142011-07-29T16:42:00.002+05:302011-07-29T17:50:29.771+05:30When two souls fight for one bodyShe sat timidly in a corner, a desolate, broody girl, whose existence was significant to no one but her own self. One look at her messy hair, her shabby clothes and her unkempt appearance, and you could judge how chaotic her life was. It was as if you can SEE her world crumbling around her; bit by bit, smile by smile, tear by tear. <br />She hadn't always been this way. As far as her feeble human memory allowed her to dwell, she remembered herself to be a normal girl ; pretty, not beautiful, but happy in every sense of the word. She won't say she embraced life for all it was. She just lived it with a purpose, a sense of fulfillment. She had friends; not too many of them, but a healthy number. She fell in love and out of it, and learned from every challenge life threw her way. Learned, and emerged triumphant. <br />But this challenge was something she lost to. Life changed, even before she was given a chance to answer the inevitable hows and whens that led to the events that unfolded before her eyes.<br />IT all started a year ago. She was happy going through her monotonous yet satisfying life, with her support systems never failing her. But something changed. She didn't sense it immediately. No. Maybe she was in denial of it, maybe she willed herself NOT to believe it. But it eventually crawled into her, and gnawed into her happiness. She was deserted; first by acquaintances, then her friends, followed by her best friends and finally, her family. Every time they looked at her, there was a mixed emotion of fear and contempt in her eyes. Why, she could never quite understand. But it made her life a painful ordeal.<br />They came up to her one day. To confront her, to let her know what brought about such hurtful changes.<br />"You.......get violent.", they said. " Yes. You get angry and you...you lose control over yourself.", said another. but the most chilling, most horrific of them all came from her ten years old brother. A timid, quiet child, who refused to come anywhere near her simply because she was a "bad" person.<br />He screamed....<br />He shouted....<br />He pierced her very soul with his words...<br /><br />"YOU KILLED MOMMY ! You stabbed her with a knife over and over again, until she stopped moving. you're a bad person ! YOU KILLED MY MOMMY ! "<br />And post saying this, he broke into loud, choking sobs.<br /><br />She kept racking her brains for the slightest of recollection of any of it happening, but in vain. Try as she might, she just couldn't remember any of it ever happening. Why would she kill her own MOTHER ?! She loved her more than her own self, God damn it ! Her warm embrace, her kind smile, her comforting words... she cried herself to sleep every night, pining for it all to come back. <br />They said she stabbed her mother over and over again in a mad frenzy till nothing was left of her. No screaming, no tears, no struggling; just a motionless body lying in a pool of blood. They said that after it was all over, she simply walked out of the house, only to return an hour later. They said she fell over her mother's body and cried her eyes out, as if she didn't know about the heinous incident that she generated her own self. As if seeing her mother lying there in a coffin hit her hard, hit her unexpectedly.<br />The truth of the matter was, she did NOT know anything about it ! She didn't remember how her mother was killed, or why her dog was found in the pool with its leash fastened around his neck, or why were her wrists covered in gashes and why was her whole fragile body inflicted with bluish marks. She didn't know what brought about any of these things, and it scared her. All of what she heard, what she saw what the people were saying, just couldn't be true ! She didn't remember any of it. And yet, as they say, it was as true as the existence of this world; prominent and inevitable.<br />So she sat in the corner ,and cried. Cried for her dead mother, her tortured dog, her damaged body, herself, her existence. Cried till her eyes were painfully sore, till the tears refused to come. And then she just lay there, motionless, her existence significant to no one but her own self.......Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-75494903713930732732011-07-03T22:31:00.003+05:302011-07-03T22:32:45.132+05:30Trying to justify the randomness from time to time :POkay, this is a very random, senseless and thoughtless poem. I wrote it while I was trying to get through a math class alive, so bear with me. I just thought a blog needs to be about ALL of your work, irrespective of how you rate it. :)<br /><br />Come on now, grab hold of my hand,<br />Let’s paint this silence, the deepest shade of sands,<br />The brightest of reds, the dullest of grays,<br />The gloom of the night, the beauty of the day.<br /><br />A word unspoken is a word colored,<br />All our joys and sorrows we left unheard,<br />Wanting to break free of such a cliché existence,<br />Tears, smiles, secrets, inhibitions; love in its most twisted sense.<br /><br />Oh, fly ! <br />Live before you die !<br />A laugh before a sigh,<br />And everything shall be alright !Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-71531983497967279552011-04-30T20:26:00.002+05:302011-04-30T21:27:45.099+05:30.... And every night, he kissed me goodnightNothing made him divulge. her cries, her pleading, her tears, her blood.....nothing. Like a hungry python, he kept on swallowing her innocence, bit by bit, inch by inch. The insides of her nails had his flesh in them ; her insides had him. She kept screaming for mercy; screaming and shouting and pleading, until the darkness, the writhing stillness of the scenario silenced her. Her eyes went red with crying, the tears created small puddles of their own. But he, he kept going for more and more of her, hurting her, sickening her, destroying her.<br />And suddenly, her limbs lost the power to fight. Her brain let go of the will to self-protect. She let him enter her, deeper and deeper, let him take away her soul, making her shallower. There is this crazy look in his eyes. A look which might never die, because the lust is too vast to be quenched. a look that shall remain imprinted in her mind.....forever, and beyond. He touches every pure part of hers, sabotaging the sanctity of her existence. And as his hand travels to the south of her chest, she retches from within. She felt her hope, her happiness, her desire to LIVE being sucked in by him. <br />Eventually, his lunatic frenzy ended. He got up, gave her one final glare, and left the room, satisfied with tonight's performance. She hoped to give her best to her own task, too. So she got up, put on whatever was left of her clothes, and went up to the mirror hanging on the wall. With a pair of scissors in her hand, she started chopping off chunks of her hair. Her beautiful, flowing her. The tears refused to come. Just a hollow-eyed, dead mortal.<br />He was supposed to love her, right ? She's been through this a number of times. He was supposed to complete her, to protect her from this inexplicably evil world. He was supposed to hold her in his arms at night, waiting for her to fall asleep. He was supposed to kiss her goodnight, and be the one who woke her up in the morning. He was supposed to.............be the father he essentially was.Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-65638493664353976122011-03-18T02:32:00.003+05:302011-03-18T03:00:24.205+05:30I love...I love how riding shotgun in a car with the music drowning my own voice gives me this crazy rush. Like I own the friggin' world !<br /><br />I love how listening to a particular song brings back a flood of memories, gluing me to the spot. What follows is a resigned shaking of head, a Well-life's-like-that smile, linking of arms with your best friend and trying to put it all behind you.<br /><br />I love how an inspirational article/video shakes me up. How it makes me introspect, makes me pick out all the unnecessary elements of life and let go of them.<br /><br />I love how I make a promise to a friend, and then break it. And how she looks into your eyes, smiles, and says, " I knew you's do this. Why do you think I asked you to make a promise in the first place ? "<br /><br />I love how, at times, all I want to do is listen to sad songs and cry my heart out. The way it makes me feel light is inexplicable. <br /><br />I love to sit at my room's window with a mug of coffee and watch the rain drench everything. The spitter-spatter, people scurrying to find cover, children playing in the puddles, guys playing football.....Most of all, I love that smile I get from within everytime this happens.<br /><br />I love how, when I'm feeling utterly defeated and purposeless, I look at my puffy eyes and snotty nose in the mirror, and start laughing. Hard. And just like that, the past one hour never happened !<br /><br />I love how the only reaction my crying can get out of my friends is, " Ho gaye drame shuru ? BE A MAN ! "<br /><br />I love how, at times, believing in the existence of a supernatural power makes this assuring calm descend over me. How it can put me to sleep after 3 straight nights of nothing but crying.<br /><br />I love the smell of petrol. Driving into a fueling station awakens my senses. There's no sane explanation to this. IT just happens to me.<br /><br />I love how I get this insane adrenaline rush whenever I'm entering a netball court for a match. IF we lose, the world seems to crumble down around me. If we win, well, IT IS PARTY TIME, BABY !!<br /><br />I love how every song in your playlist suddenly starts carrying a significance to your life. Coldplay, how do you know my life story ?!<br /><br />I love how, at the time of my last exam, instead of studying for it, I make plans of how to spend the holidays that would follow.<br /><br />I love how you have such meaningful conversations with your best friends at the most random places possible : During an audition for the school play, the playground, while waiting in line for the school canteen, in the park outside your place....absolutely anymore.<br /><br />I love how you listen to a song before any of your friends did, and you just can't get enough of yourself !<br /><br /><br />Life. Love. Lies. Laughter. A broken heart. A mended attitude. A tearful eye. An ear-to-ear grin. A lost friend. A new-found companion. The grilling school days. A calm Sunday morning.<br />I love everything about life....and more. <br /><br /><br />It's safe to say,<br />I finally feel the warmth of the day. :)Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-11431285128382568312011-03-12T21:01:00.000+05:302011-03-12T21:26:30.779+05:30A dead calmIt is like a raging fire's seething through my whole being, scathing me internally, venoming my interior.<br /><br />Like a hundred souls rest within this mortal body, and they break havoc all the time. Chained beasts, writhing and snapping at the locks holding them back, doing away with each link with every single attempt. Not a single one goes wasted. Boring into me, my heart, my soul with that cold, red-eyed gaze of theirs. And no, it does not make me tremble with fear. It just makes the diabolic me stand taller, towering over my calm self.<br /><br />The malice ,the sheer wish of destroying the other is back. A blinding rage, finding its way out of every little loophole, like a dormant volcano that suddenly came to life. The more you push it down, the more it hits you back with invincible velocity, tearing away at every fibre of your being.<br /><br />And then, a sudden calm. A smile ,a breath of relief. A look of love, of care, of compassion. Ah ! And we finally get back to normal.........or do we ?<br /><br />Another one crossing the line, and the peaceful demeanor is shattered to pieces, each one piercing into his body, his mind, is blessed SOUL, as he tries to struggle free of your gripping gaze. A gaze that presses down on every nerve of his, slitting each one of them as it progresses. He bleeds of apologies; He reeks of misgivings. He weeps with regret; he is hit with yet another sin. And just when you thought you won't ever get done with him, he ceases to breathe. Over. You just sabotaged the very core of his being - his conscience...........and now, he is one of you.Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-66513506873730954112011-02-26T20:34:00.000+05:302011-02-26T22:06:27.304+05:30I don't love myself.......I'm crazy about myself ! - Mae West" How come the only way to know how high you get me<br /> Is to see how far I fall "<br /><br /><br />These two lines from John Mayer's 'Heartbreak Warfare' say it all....and more. We've all done it at some point of our lives, haven't we ? Hung on to something dear, out of fear of losing control. You can see the person writhing to find a way out of your clutches which, until recently, were the warm blanket of genuine care to them. Absurd ? Yes. Unfair ? No. Change is the very essence of life. But it hurts when that addictive companionship is taken away from you mercilessly.<br />I'm not referring only to people who fell in love and out of it, and the time in between. You may have held on to a friendship gone wrong, a dying kin, your school, your college....anything that made you feel like you're in safe hands and wrapped you in its comfortable and loving embrace. Ah ! But then, you should always be cautious of fate when everything turns a bit too perfect, because it only means that fate is doing the silence-before-an-impending-disaster thing. <br />For one, such incidents leave you dazed and shattered. And the first question to hit your brain is, " Why me ? " The mightiest blow comes with the next one, " What now ? " You don't know how to get on with life. This person/thing/place was supposed to hold you close to their heart ! How can they just abandon you, leaving you to deal with your issues single-handedly ? You find yourself stuck between your heart screaming, " I WANT MY SUPPORT BACK !! " and your mind putting forth its views with a chilling calm ( and shameless mockery ), " When is it that you'll realise that you aren't wanted in that arena anymore ? Look at you, listening to your heart over me, when you KNOW you're going to regret it later. " <br />WE all know the heart's the weaker one out here. But we still end up listening to it. Why ? Oh well, for starters, it always seems to suggest things that would be pleasing and easy to deal with. Who wants to go through a reality check anyway, right ? WRONG. I did that. Have been doing that for a very long time now. Believe you me, you'll end up hating yourself for not doing the right thing. For being a coward and seeking solace in acts that, at the end of the day, you could never be proud of.<br />Hey, you're worth more than that ! Someone doesn't want you in their life, let them go ! There are so many souls out there who's give anything to replace those silly tears with a dimpled smile. <br />Someone said something to me a few days ago, and it shook me up. Amazingly. She said, " You know what Malvika ? It is high time you learn to love yourself, learn to put yourself before people who do that to you all the time. And no, don't hate them for doing it ! Instead, admire them for pushing you to do it. You're one blessed child on God.....and no one knows that better than you. "<br /><br /><br />[ PS : I love you, Harkirat. You're one person who can bring me back to my senses in a jiffy. Stay in my life. :) ]<br /><br />Live, laugh, love ! But don't live on love and then overlook the laugh when the love is taken away from you.<br />I want to depend on me. I want to get high on my achievements, get bothered by my tears, smile from within when I laugh and most of all, fall in love with myself. <br />This in no way means that I want to grow self-centered. I just want to wake up to the existence of an amazing me within this mortal body, a me that needs to be loved by, well, me. :P<br /><br />Thank you for making me realise what I'm worth. I can never hate you for doing this to me. :)<br />^The person I'm talking about will know. Let's not take names. <br /><br />I'd like to end this post with a quote which got me thinking :<br /><br />"What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us. " - Ralph Waldo Emerson<br /><br />And this 'what' is something I'll grow to love. Love to death. ;)Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-87883920321585672602011-02-03T18:29:00.000+05:302011-02-03T18:30:17.216+05:30Departed LoveThe red skies, the crescent moon,<br /><br />They vouch for this scathed soul,<br /><br />The zenith darkens as we near our doom<br /><br />I stand by and watch as you gnaw at my incomplete whole.<br /><br /> <br /><br />Your eyes darken, they haunt my dreams,<br /><br />Glinting with a strange, sadistic contentment,<br /><br />I find myself tearing away my heart at the realms,<br /><br />As I discover that the voice was owned but the words were lent.<br /><br /> <br /><br />You, a mere spectator to my failed attempts at restoring the perfect picture by bits and pieces,<br /><br />Or maybe it is just too perfect to be relived ?<br /><br />you broaden your wrath as my existence ceases,<br /><br />I bow my head, silenced by the eerie quiet.......a soul that once lived.<br /><br /> <br /><br />Your lies, they throb through my veins,<br /><br />Poisoning me, my love, my soul,<br /><br />Such a horrifying beauty, I suffocate under your reign,<br /><br />The hallucinations start intervening with this dead life as the days roll.<br /><br /> <br /><br />I laugh, it is such a hollow sound,<br /><br />Searching for something I once found,<br /><br />The frizzled emotions, the sly innocence,<br /><br />I search for bliss in your hell, as you mar my heaven with your vengeance. <br /><br /> <br /><br />Your precarious steps were what this lucid love was made of,<br /><br />ME, a bitter truth, a bitter existence......the bitter half ?<br /><br />You place your hand over my heart-it seers,<br /><br />I hold my breath, trying not to give in to the amplified fears.Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-71823745188515558152011-01-01T12:44:00.001+05:302011-01-01T13:39:27.129+05:302011, Please be kind enough to not sabotage the Resolutions :)IT is here. Finally. 2011 ! It is hard to believe how 2010 flew by. Seems like yesterday, when we would exit our examination hall post give a Board exam, exhilarated at how we did unexpectedly well. Then came Class 11. New school, new environment, new people....And an entirely new life. I made new friends, lost some old ones ; Laughed till my stomach hurt, cried my eyes out; Swore like it was the end of the world, gracefully walked out of an argument; regretted being in a never-meant-to-be relationship, experienced the bliss of being in a satisfying one; All in all, 2010 was ONE year I'd never forget. OR even WANT to, for that matter.<br /><br />New Year Resolutions. Such a fickle concept. But that has never discouraged me from INTENDING to make these never-to-be-lived-up to Resolutions every year. Just intending. :P If I can't get myself to MAKE these resolutions, I highly doubt if I'd ever be able to follow even ONE of them, let alone following them religiously.<br /><br />However, as they say, you've got to start from somewhere, and my somewhere is some where here. :P<br />So today, I plan on listing down my Resolutions on my blog, so that whenever I visit my blog and happen to come across this post, I feel guilty of not living up to my words. Guilty enough to make an effort to follow ( and successfully, at that ) my resolutions.<br /><br />2011 - HERE GO YOUR RESOLUTIONS<br /><br />1) To give more time to my family. This tops the list, any day. Lately, I've been so caught up with my school and friends that I let my family take a backseat. I intend on not letting this happen this year. Family comes first. Thus endeth.<br /><br />2) To give this blessed blog the attention it deserves. A random post in every two months will not, and DOES not, suffice. At least one post every two weeks is my target for the year.<br /><br />3) To stop giving a shit about people who don't do the same for me. Enough of adding on to my Karma. They don't deserve to be a part of the process. More than enough tears have been shed already.<br /><br />4) To start studying seriously. Enough of I-hope-I-don't-flunk. time to get down to business.<br /><br />5) Get in touch with the sports person residing within me. I let it die as soon as I entered class 10. But now, I'm going to resume falling in love with Netball. <3<br /><br />6) To take initiative. I need to get done with hesitating and caring about what the world would say. They'd forget it within a matter of hours. But those things will stay with me forever.<br /><br />7) To read more books. I completely neglected novels in the past year. And no, no chick lit. :P<br /><br />8)To work religiously towards my aim of cracking CLAT. Yeah, I AM taking classes, but I realise that I need to put in more effort if I want to succeed. And come what may, I AM going to do it, starting from reading 'The Hindu'. :P<br /><br /><br />These eight things seem to be enough for now. Easy to follow. Not a big deal. I just hoe I have the will to continue with them, though.<br />Well, Amen to that. _/\_<br /><br />By the way, a very Happy New Year to all my fellow bloggers. Hope you make the wise ( and difficult) decision of living up to your resolutions, too. And hope you actually follow it. :P<br />Love. :)Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-52274680025037035692010-12-28T20:03:00.000+05:302011-02-03T18:24:50.396+05:30Life in the corrupt laneI hate how we 'draw the line' everywhere. Anything that's slightly out of ordinary, and we conveniently hide behind the "limits" and the "ethics". Let's be true to ourselves, shall we ? Are we REALLY this morally upright ? <br /><br />We kill in the name of religion.<br />We don't mind shop lifting every once in a while.<br />we criticize our politicians, though we don't care to do anything for the country ourselves.<br />We slide a note or two under the table , only to get our work done and over with.<br />We get illegal connections and food supplies at cheaper rates with fake IDs.<br />We don't think twice before carving out our names out on a tree/public property.<br />We smoke freely in a smoke-free city.<br />We get over-age players to play in tournaments, only to secure a trophy for our state.<br /><br />"Life is what happens, while you're busy making your excuses. "<br />A line that says it all.<br />Let's be true to ourselves for once. Let's look into ourselves, and correct that dark, corrupt part of ours before trying to change the world.Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-66708976717843836222010-12-16T14:54:00.000+05:302011-03-18T01:16:41.199+05:30I want to live SHS againThis blog post goes out to all of those people who made all of my SHS moments worth cherishing. I love you guys, okay ? And no matter what life does to us, our friendship, our sisterhood, you guys will always hold a special place in my heart. <br /><br />I want to play rugby in the netball court. Pointless, random fun. A game without rules ( because we weren't aware of them :P ) . And then, I want to drop to the ground, exhausted, yet exhilarated. :)<br /><br />I want to sit in a circle in the school grounds, devouring each other's tiffins, because our own weren't enough. Special mention to Nischal's chane, Noor's pasta, Shiru's "posh" tiffin and Anter's super-fattening paranthas.<br /><br />I want to get into trouble for playing without permission, and then make lame excuses like, " We have an extremely important match tomorrow ( even though we had a week to go ). " " Noor was about to leave to get the permission signed by Sister Sebastina ( and we all stared at Noor, while she started failing miserably at fibbing. :P )<br /><br />I want to stand in the school corridors with Shiru on those cold December mornings, try to get ourselves defrosted. ( 'Cause we were too cool to wear those dorky slacks. :P )<br /><br />I want to fight with R.B. Singh Ma'am and Katyal Ma'am. Fight for the right, fight for us.<br /><br />I want too groan everytime the tuesday tests came up, and jump with joy everytime they got cancelled/postponed.<br /><br />I want to......I want to do a lot of things, and more. A blog post is too insignif1acnt and unsatisfactory for it.<br /><br />I want to live Sacred Heart again. I want to live US again. :)Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-5958082733336892692010-12-09T14:47:00.000+05:302010-12-13T05:51:21.602+05:30Shiny little balls - TeenageI just found the perfect thing that symbolises teenage : those shiny little balls, which change their color everytime you shake them. Teenage is so much like those balls ! It keeps changing its hues everytime you shake it up. The colors range from the vibrant yellow to the ghastly dark orange. from the fiery red to the peaceful white. From the Gothic black to the naughty hot pink ! I find this phase of my life to be very fascinating. I am awed at how a bright sunny morning can make me feel sad at times, and how a dark, rainy day can lift my spirits. This is essentially how it is for us. Everything goes topsy-turvy from time to time.And never ever have I found this to be frustrating. All of this keeps me engaged. Makes me feel lively.<br />I'd like to list certain things/incidents that make me thank The One up there for this life of mine :<br /><br />1. Those days when you wake up, resolute on cramming up your whole freaking NCERT book, and end up watching videos on youtube and talking to other fickle-minded souls like yourself on the phone. Ah ! Bliss. :)<br /><br />2. Those times when you'd rather get yourself hit by a moving truck than attend school, but are forced by your mom to go. You get up from your bed begrudgingly, have a bath, brush your teeth and comb your hair messily, listening to angry music all the while. And then comes the newspaper. And there it is....... ' Schools shall remain closed today because of XYZ event. ' Wait a second...what ?! Yes, that grin. That's what I'm talking about. You jiggle away to glory, giving your mom a HA!-I-won smile. And you're SO excited that you're unable to go back to sleep, thus defeating the whole purpose of wanting to stay back in the first place. :P<br /><br />3. The way you act all I-don't-even-think-about-you around the person you're thinking of 24/7. You become friends with him/her, and still act like you've got better things to do than have a major crush on them. And then one fine day, you tell them that you DO like them, because your friendship nullifies all awkwardness. And that moment of ecstasy when you come to know that they like you back. But you decide to let it be that way, because the bond you share is awesome as it is. But hey, who doesn't like being liked, eh ? :P<br /><br />4. Those days when you're bored out of your mind, and are being made to go for your tuitions. You end up sitting in class, devising ways to either : a) Kill your teacher, b) Kill yourself, c) Kill the insanely nerdy person sitting next to you. <br />And then the phone at the office rings. The teacher is required to be present somewhere ASAP. Hence, the class has to be dismissed. Your grin stretches from ear-to-ear. There HAS to be a God ! :')<br /><br />5. Those moments when you pick your phone up and start typing a text to your best friend And just when you are about to hit 'send', she sends a text saying , " Whatcha up to ? Me is bored out of my mind. Even SIMPSONS seems lame. :| " Souls sisters. :)<br /><br />6. Those times when post being wronged by someone gravely, you give up on the very idea of getting close to someone. You decide that you're done with all of this, and that it's definitely not your cup of tea. Cool. And then.....that one person comes along. Who holds your hand, gets you out of your dejection and helps you rise to new heights, new standards. And that's when you realize the worth of that invaluable friend. A friend who can never be replaced.<br /><br />7. Those days when you've cried your eyes out the previous night, and your eyes look like red golf balls. You roam about in the recess, hoping for it to end so that you can get back to wallowing in grief. Just when you are about to start leaking from your eyes again, your friend comes and walks with you, holding up a chocolate he/she bought from the canteen. Exclusively for you. And who cares if it was a Cadbury Classic, worth 10 bucks ? At least that friend of yours is invaluable, and that makes all the difference.<br /><br />Yeah, all of this is from personal experience. But I feel that everyone must've experienced somewhat similar in the course of their lives. I know these days will never come back......But I shall relive these memories from time to time, only to feel like the free-spirited teenager I am. :)Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-39954017531238860722010-12-04T11:50:00.000+05:302010-12-04T11:52:49.992+05:30.....And the girl moved on :)I’ve always been a sucker for amorous flicks. Call me a hopeless<br />romantic, but these movies make me feel happy. They make me believe in<br />love, in the theory of soul mates, in trust and most importantly, in<br />happy endings. Boy meets girl, trials and tribulations, long stretches<br />of time spent away from one another; but none of this changes the fact<br />that they’ll be together in the end. Together, and happy.<br />Not only do I LIKE these movies, but with the passage of time, I<br />started BELIEVING in the events that took place in them. It’s the<br />cliché flow of events: Girl falls for guy, guy breaks her heart,<br />realises what he’s done wrong and apologises. The apologising part is<br />something I believed would happen. Someday. I hoped, and wished, and<br />prayed. I entreated with all my might that at some point of time, he’d<br />realise that what he did was wrong and unethical, and that maybe by<br />apologising to me, he’d lessen the hurt. And do you know what the<br />worst part is? I STILL find myself wishing for it to ensue. No, it<br />didn’t happen like it did in those chick flicks. The only part bearing<br />a slight resemblance to the movies is the part where I cried, hoped,<br />struggled; where I failed to put it all behind me. I always thought<br />that there would be a point when I would be able to say that I’m<br />FINALLY over the guy. A day when seeing him/his facebook profile<br />wouldn’t bring back a flood of memories. A day when I won’t skip a<br />beat every time someone mentions his name. A day when.....when the<br />mourning period would finally, and DEFINATELY, end. Unfortunately,<br />for me, the point never came. And I don’t see it coming anytime soon,<br />too. What he did to me was plain nasty. Something you don’t do to<br />girls. Something which is, I don’t know, immoral. But he did it<br />nonetheless. He did it, made me cry, made me regret being with him and<br />gave me another rationale to curse myself for not being able to let<br />bygones be bygones.<br />Now, one might ask, what’s HIS fault in all of this? His fault is that<br />he made me believe in him. His fault is that he made me love him, made<br />me forget how life was sans him. His fault is that he has turned cold<br />and callous now. Not very long ago, he was bothered about the reason<br />behind every little sigh of mine. Seeing me upset bogged HIM down. He<br />spent hours and hours, trying to cheer me up. Trying to make me smile.<br />And I got SO addicted to all the love and care that when it was taken<br />away from me, it left me shattered.<br />However, as they say, time doesn’t wait for anybody. And I’m no exception to this<br />rule. I will HAVE to move on; will have to get on with my life. And guess what ? I just did. I've put it all behind me. I won't say I don't care anymore, but I've learned to let the caring bit pass. not affect me like it used to earlier.<br />As I was writing this post, I felt it all getting out of me. The<br />suppressed emotions, desires, recollections...everything. And I think<br />that I’m pretty close to the I-have-moved-on-point. So close, that I<br />can almost taste it. :)Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-31487454003071333792010-09-17T11:27:00.000+05:302010-09-25T21:47:02.966+05:30It's a Daily Soap Day. :(I LOVE how I meet a new person in me everyday. It's like characters stepping out of a novel, facilitating my attempt at figuring myself out. Yesterday was my Daily Soap Day. That's how I refer to days when my mood swings cross all limits; when all I need is a person who'll listen to me being ecstatic, critical, sympathetic, angry, depressed....All at 10-minute intervals. Contains all the elements of a typical, melodramatic daily soap, right ?<br />Yesterday, my degree of sitcom-ism was exponential ! To begin with, I spent the whole night wide awake, courtesy an economics test I had to appear for ( and hadn't studied for ) . God bless Mother Nature, for bestowing upon distressed souls like moi the irreplaceable gift of coffee. Two mugs of black coffee, and I was UBER high. And when I say uber, I MEAN uber.<br /><br /> INCIDENTS POINTING OUT THE OBVIOUS : I GET HIGH ON COFFEE <br /><br />Proof 1 : I was listening to Justin Beiber songs at 1:30 AM. Hardly qualifies as sane, according to ANYBODY'S standards. <br /><br />PROOF 2 : At 3 AM, I had this strong urge of having a packet of maggie. So the insanely high me gets up, goes to the kitchen and starts with the whole process. While battling with the VERY stubborn cover of the packet, she drops the whole thing, resulting in her laughing hysterically.<br />^VERY insane.<br /><br />PROOF 3 : Post having maggie, my quote of random madness still needs fulfillment. So I gab hold of my cellphone, and start sending utterly random text messages to random people, like Harkirat, Noor, Anter, Ravi Kohli and Aseem. <br /><br />(The text messages)<br />To Hark : 1.I'm having maggie at 3 A. :|<br /> 2.Meri best friend ban....ABHI !! :'( Main nhi ! <br />PS : I thing I'm in love with my bed ki mattress. It has got flowers . EEEEEEEP ! :D <br /><br />To Noor : This is an utterly random and baseless text message. Me is high on coffee. And I had maggie. At 3 AM. Me is mad. Berserk. Nutcase. Officially. I know you don't like texting. Tatti Khaa. Texting awesome. \m/<br />chal, changa. Sayonara !<br /><br /><br />All said and done, I kind of LIKE the high me. It makes me, and the people around me, feel all happy. The high me gives me ample excuses to laugh hysterically, jump around, tease people and get teased by them......all in good humour. No one ever minds everything I do, because they know I'm a nutcase. I just need to get it certified. :P<br />I've never been critical of this state of mine, though it DOES create some problems at times. But the point is, I get to laugh and have fun. I get a chance to live the way I want to, and not how others expect me to go through my life. And hey, if my craziness can get a person to smile, then what could possibly be better than this ? :)Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-48872794163584837342010-08-24T20:34:00.000+05:302010-09-20T21:23:00.515+05:30Me and myselfIt’s one of those days. Days when all you want to do is scream at everybody in the vicinity, rip their head offs, tell them to shut their exponentially irritating blabber and LET PEACE PREVAIL!! Aarrgh!!<br />Yes, one of THOSE days. It has been sixteen long years, and I am yet to figure out as to HOW do I handle myself during these mood swings of mine. Result : An irritated bunch of friends, agitated parents and clueless me. It's not exactly my idea of a normal day.<br />The hardest thing bout such days is that I have to bear the brunt emotionally, mentally and materialistically. Yes, materialistically. Take today for an example. I was so rude to my mom that she confiscated my phone. My phone !! the only thing that keep me going. My air, my water, my EVERYTHING. :( <br />Anyway, leaving all of this aside, I've decided to change certain things about myself. Though it's hard to admit, but I agree that I lose my temper very easily. I'm too demanding, and am not willing to give in return. I expect people to understand how I feel without making any effort. I expect of them to do things for me....things that are, at times, impractical. There are days when I expect my friends to bear with everything I say or do, irrespective of the fact whether it's in keeping with what they want/like.<br />I'd like to change all of this about me. I love myself, with all my imperfections and perfections. But I'd like to become a better person....For everyone's sake.Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-625270194237683262.post-82631427640814036422010-06-22T16:45:00.000+05:302010-06-22T17:14:24.393+05:30Religion : No, not your personal choiceAn athiest? OR maybe an agnostic ? But I DO believe in a supernatural power, right ? To be honest, I never really put much thought into this. And neither do I intend to. I don't mean it in the I'm-a-teen-so-I'm-being-a-REBEL sort of way. I've always believed that religion and belief are one's personal choice. But the kind of society we are being brought up in, it's more or less forced upon us. I am born into a Hindu family. Does that make ME a Hindu ? Is that the criteria ? I don't think so, because it is futile unless I have complete faith and undying belief in the religion. What's the point of making me memorise the Gayatri Mantra, if I feel that it wouldn't alleviate my suffering ? Another thing that bothers me is the way religion is portrayed these days. It's like the Taliban, only the stingent rules and allegedly sanctioned by God. I'm not saying that our scriptures are at fault, or that they need to be amended. I'm pretty sure that God didn't want a lady to throw herself intothe fire just because her husband died ! Sati was something invented by mankind. God loves life. He bestows life upon us, and I find it very hard to believe that He'd want us to end it in His name. <br /><br /><br />Hinduism is a beautiful religion. But there are those few people, who seek to corrupt it. DEMEAN it. Wy not let it be the way it is meant to ?! Why do we feel the need to put in our own riduculous inputs, and thus spoil the sanctity of it ? Hinduism does not ask Harijans to be treated the way they are. STILL are. IT does seek to humiliate a person just because he was born into a particular strata of the society. And I strongly believe that Hinduism does not ask its followers to treat women like they are. Why can't we be treated as EQUALS, for once ?! <br /><br />All said and done, I'm still not sure about my belief. I'm not a Hindu. But definately not an athiest, either. I am human. And I like to preach humanity. Trust me, it's simply awesome. :)Malvikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00995941520232075914noreply@blogger.com2