For the sake of it ..

so i have been wanting to write for a while. but then i didnt know what to. because the words didnt come. but tonight i shall. i shall write whether or not it has a meaning. whether or not anybody understands it. whether or not it is mediocre. i dont know what i shall write, nevertheless, i shall.

i think i am going to do miserably in my ISC exams. i keep pretending like im not at all worried and anxious and i couldnt care less , but there it is .. i am scared and i am very scared. much as i think the whole system of imparting education is overrated, i'm in it and something tells me its not going to treat me very well.

I'm unhappy and im binging. My confidence is down in my ankles and i hate looking at mirror. I cant seem to get over things and im hanging on to every bit of my past. the past which is gone and will never come back, no matter how much i yearn for it. i hurt ma and i wish i could keep her happy but i think im too selfish for it. she probably is right : i love her, but the compassion is not there.

i dont want to study, i hate studying. i hate pouring into my books and i probably sound like a 6 year old throwing tantrums but well .. i hate studying. i dont like going to school. i hate people at my school .. barring a few perhaps. i think Ms. Raha is an amazing person, unlike popular belief. I love the passion she has for her subject. And i shall hate anybody who reads this and goes and repeats it to her.

I cant write. Im not a poet. Im not a lover. Im not talented. I cannot sing. I'm mediocre, average, ordinary and everything else that i had always hoped i never would be. My vocabulary is pathetic. I cant put my erratic thoughts into words. Im a dreamer and all i do is, dream. i dream and walk down the streets of Dublin. i dream and a sing with alanis morisette and joan baez. i dream and i hold hands with gerard butler and listen to beatles playing 'Hey Jude' at hard rock cafe. i dream and i write of souls stretching across the sky that fade behind a city block. i dream and i rhyme. i dream and i fly. i dream and read five books at a time. i dream and make music with malvika strumming her guitar sitting on the steps of nandan. i dream and i can capture ecstatic moments with a camera. i dream and my baba n ma are happy and proud of me.

i dream and i am happy.

But i cant capture ecstatic moments on a film .. all i can do is capture them in my mind and store them away at a corner of my mind. i cant sing like an angel and i cant write to take your breath away. i cant make my parents proud and happy. i cant love : im too selfish for that. i cant play a guitar and i cant even hold a paint brush. i cant breath life into words and turn them into a song. i am not great. im not brilliant.

I miss him. There are times when i lapse into daydreams of being with him, being married to him and fighting with him about the color of the drapes for the living room. and choosing latches and other such mundane, nonsensical things. i still smile about things that he had said to me, the times he made me laugh .. the times when the word happiness could not have been more apt. and then there are times when i would give absolutely anything to get him back. sometimes i hate him, and abuse him and say things to him that shock the very daylight out of him. but even then, i want him to understand that i never quite mean them, i look for the slightest pretext to talk about him, to say something about him, to speak to him.

I think Guddu has changed. maybe she has not, but i feel different. i miss her a lot. not that she is far away. but i miss her all the same. i wish she were my sister then i would have had her under my nose all the time. and sometimes im even jealous. and disappointed. and hurt. but i love her. and i love everything about her. and i wish things werent so complicated.

I miss Malavika. i miss her like crazy. and i wish she were back in Cal. but that girl is going places- with leaps and bounds. she is one of the most amazing musicians iv known my entire life. and she is this beautiful .. beautiful person. there have been times when she has helped put things into perspective and she's been there. i only wish that i were a little more like her. instead of the empty goddamed vessel that i am.

I'm grateful to sumi, dona, chit, bushra and pinchu for having been there, when the others who were "apparently" my friends, turned their wide backs on me. i grateful to Ms. Raha for getting my back when i've been ion trouble and i''m grateful to Ms.Qureshi for having taken so much of interest in my well being and cared for me. and i'm realy, realy sorry to have thought negatively about her so many time : she must have had her reasons. and much as i dislike my school, i shall forever be indebted to it for giving me the first and the only opportunity to go up on that stage and sing my own composition.

there might not be any meaning of all this. and this is definitely not the conventional idea of a 'writing' but well .. i have been disappointing people a lot these days and not living upto expectations .. so what difference would another such act make.

and oh ! i also like mushy pretty woman kind of movies.i listen to taylor swift at times .. in secret. justin beiber is the most stupppppiiiiiiidddddddd guy ive even happen to come across ; he insults the very word "musician". if i ever meet Lady Gaga, i shall puke on her. i do not understand why people think Da Vinci's 'monalisa' is so great .. that woman is ugly. i dont like people calling me a tomboy. i like keeping my things disorganized. i love wearing sarees. im not arrogant and sarcastic and rude. at least i dont mean to be, most of the times. i dont know why people have such huge problem with me being fat .. i dont have a problem with them not being fat, do i ?!

And after a very long time, i have been this honest. nakedly honest.