LOSING MY FATHER

I don't blog very regularly, do I?
Okay anyways, so I decided to do it today because... why not. I probably need it.
I guess I just need to vent about my father's passing.
And by that, I mean his death.
See, the thing to know about me is, I saw my father twice a year. Maybe once or twice more, but that was not regular. I flew down to Bangalore whenever I had my vacations.
He was 42 when he died. He died young.
This should not have surprised me. Or anyone for that matter. He was not very healthy. He smoked very, very regularly and had a series of conditions relating to the fact that he took a lot of medicines.
He was also bipolar, but I must admit, I never saw that as a part of him. I still don't.
He was smart, very smart. And creative. He was the one that encouraged me to write, take up blogging and tonnes of other things. He introduced me to bands and authors and so many other worlds. He took me places every time I visited, he was always so wonderful.
And even when he wasn't, when he was sad and low, there was something about him that was just so.. alive.
I can see how that might not make very much sense, but it's true.
I guess I just never thought I'd have to see him like that- and so soon, too- dead.
Just a week before his death, he was sitting with me. And he was talking to me about what should happen if he died- "If you ever do," I had said to him, then.
I never really thought about it- to be honest. I don't know, he's just my father, you know?
I mean, he is my father. He's supposed to be there when I move to Bangalore next year so I can spend quality time with him. He's supposed to help me paint my room and hang up posters and pictures and feature in more videos and vlogs with me. I'm supposed to do creative writing internships with him and counsel him on my novel ideas and poems. He's supposed to see me go to college, graduate. He's supposed to see me get married, he's supposed to approve of the man I marry. He's supposed to be a grandfather to my children- just like my grandfather had been for me.
To think that my children will never know what a beautiful, beautiful human being my father was.
It's not sinking in. Some part of me, I suppose, still expects him to call me and say something along the lines of, 'Ha. Got you. I'm back.'
Because that's the thing: he had always been there for me. And now he's just not.

On a happier note, though: Bless the good God for creating someone so perfect as Andy Biersack.

Dear Everyone

Let's talk about depression.
Depression can be hard, not just because of what you feel and go through, but because most people don't understand very often.
Depression is not always an emo girl or guy sitting at the back of the class, wearing all black and writing dark poems about death. Depression can be anything- the happy girl who wears bright dresses and the popular guy who just seems to have it right.
I don't want this to seem extremely cliche- sometimes, all you have to do is ask. A simple 'Are you alright?' may mean more to someone going through depression than you can ever imagine.
Let me tell you a little bit about when I was depressed.
I'd feel terrible about myself, my body and my life.
Nothing could make me feel any better or happier.
There were days when I'd skip school and stay at home- some weeks, more often than the others. Those days, I'd feel even worse than how I felt at most other times. I'd curl up in a ball on the floor and cry for hours- not knowing why.
Other days, when I did go to school, I was such a downer. I'd sit at my desk, drawing and writing and scribbling, not caring what was going on around me. I'd feel low- like down-in-the-dumps low all the time. And it was starting to get irritating.
And then, I hit an entirely new low- lower than the lowest I'd ever been. I started to snap at people too easily, and do thing and behave in a way I usually never did. I started to feel like life is worthless-like I am worthless.
I felt like I let people down too often and too easily.
I tried everything- I was seeing a therapist and whatnot, I tried talking to my mother about it. (PS.: Major thanks to my parents for helping me get through this)
I had one or two close calls, when I almost committed suicide. I don't know what held me back- but whatever it was, I'm glad it did.
I started to try. I didn't feel any better for a long time, but I tried talking about it with my friends and my father. That's when I finally started  to feel a little better.
Because everyone began accepting me the way I am- moreover, I began accepting myself the way I am.
I began thinking of what I want more than what others expect.
The sky didn't seem so dull anymore. Life was better.
And I'm not saying I don't feel like shit anymore- I still have days when I feel like throwing myself off the roof. But I've learnt to get through it.
\When that happens, I listen to my music and take hour-long walks in my building at night- and it's suddenly not all that bad.
What you have to do when you're depressed is, believe. Believe that you can get through it.
Believe that someone will understand you. If you doubt that even for a moment, think again. There always will be someone who is ready to help you- you only have to try.
Believe that there is something for you out there. Find what it is. Try new things. Excite yourself and distract yourself as much as you can.
Believe that it is all about you. Sure, that sounds narcissistic. But it is your life. Learn to put yourself before everyone else, because no one can possibly love yourself more than you.
And I'm not saying it's easy- it is not. it may take months for you to feel better but try not to give up.
And I'm not saying it'll go away forever either- it won't. You just have to take it one step at a time.

What Happened - A Tale Only Told In India

Here's what happened: we were having a blast playing hide n seek at priyanshus building when a few residents of the building were walking around taking rounds, and a few of them even helped us.
So, when it was Samruddhi and Jash's turn to search for us, me and Priyanshu were hidden in some bushes when suddenly the other three were calling out to is.
I noticed a strange man wearing a grey t-shirt nearing us. He asked us if he could play with us as well.
Khushi, in a rushed manner, told us that when she was hiding, a man had approached her, advising her to hide near the bathroom since Jash and Samruddhi were apparently coming her way. When she had stood up, he had backed her against a wall, taking hold of her both her shoulders rather forcefully, and pressed a hand to her chest.
He molested her.
His face was disturbingly near to hers and it was creepy, scary and angering for her all at the same time- this is what she told me.
She said she took some time to process what had just happened- she, an innocent 15 year old playing hide n seek- had been touched inappropriately by this man.
She pushed him off, and told him to get lost, immediately looking for Samruddhi and Jash, and then, me and Priyanshu.
It was then that I realised that is was that same man in the grey tee from earlier, but he had fled by then.
It was so shocking, I think I'm still in shock and it is so so disgusting.
And honestly, when we informed some of the adults, some of their reactions were surprising- she was being blamed, us girls were being blamed for dressing a particular way! We were being blamed for staying evening hours in a strange building.
But, in fact, it was our best friend's building and we have every right to dress as we wish.
And it is absolutely outrageous, how the government will put bans on porn, beef and maggi but the sentence for molestation is only 6 months jail time and around 2 lakh rupees bail ONLY.
What the fuck is the government going to do about what my friend has gone through?
Who the fuck is going to bring justice to her?
Should she go to the police, file an FIR, which could take months in itself, and get this man arrested only to have him released on bail? Should she waste her time so?
What is she to do?
I mean this could have been any of us. It could have been you, your daughter, your sister, your mother.
She didn't even dress provocatively, she wore simple jeans and a tee.
I don't even know what to say about this, but I just wanted this to be out there and so does she.
No one really realises how bad rape truly is. And molestation as well. How much Indian society and mentality is responsible for it and the way the girl is always blamed.
It is so completely pathetic.
Also, I fucking love you, Khushi Wadhwani. 

Irrational

Have you ever felt
The heat burn into your skin,
Like it's too unbearable,
Except the sun isn't shining.
It's just another dark night,
Just another broken dream
And a crumbled heart?
Does it ever feel like it's too much,
Like it could get worse,
But you're hanging
By this delicate little thread
Wishing you were dead?
Doesn't it ever not make sense,
At all and some more
And then when you start wishing,
That you had taken a different road,
A strong wind, swaying your affections, blows?
Don't you ever feel like it is too much
For a fragile girl
Still so naive, she doesn't know much.
It feels like forever,
But she's still so new to the world?
Some things, they're just
Made to not make sense.
You know, like humans and their emotions
And their minds, along with their hearts
That do devise plans so irrational.

Everyone Hurts.

She has no cuts on her wrists,
They see no marks, no slits,
Little do they know, she takes dangerous hits,
Blown everyday to a thousand bits.

He has no home,
His nose is bleeding, he feels so broke,
But those boys at school, they don't know,
He tries to smile, tries to grow.

She knows no good, nor no kind,
She knows what it's like to lose a child,
She shows no emotion, though they're running wild,
She cries over it every night.

He struggles with trying to keep away,
One little drop could lead him astray.
He asks God to show him the way,
his tired face dripping onto the ashtray.

She's small and naive, yet new to the world,
The sound of a car crashing, she heard,
She has no parents, not anymore,
Yet, she loves to hear the birds chirp.

You know, you know,
Everyone hurts.

How to Save a Life

Death comes to all those who wish for it; death comes to all those that dread it. No matter what, death comes to you. Death is inevitable. 

The good, the bad, the sinners, the saints- we all die. 

And lately, I've come to realise that, you know, there is nothing to fear, in death, if you've lived your life like it meant something, you know?

Yesterday, I went down with my friend, wanting to talk to her and chat her up a bit since she wasn't feeling so good, and frankly, neither was I. 

So, when I went down, right below my building, I noticed that the watchman wasn't there. 

When I went outside, I saw the watchman picking up a dog, and then placing him in from t of the building.

That dog, a bitch rather, had been living around my building for more than seven years now. 

My complex is home to a lot of strays, and this particular bitch- Rani, they had named her- was always, always below my building. 

She would come walk with me when I would take my own dog, Neo, down for a walk. She was the most harmless dog ever, the friendliest.

Everyone said that she had been like that for a few days now- she couldn't move, she kept walking in circles. 

We didn't know what it was- so my mother called Neo's vet, we tried calling a few agencies- no one was open, though.

Finally, we remembered that there was a government animal shelter nearby that was ought to be open. We took her there in my mother's car.

She kept shivering and trying to get up- and then she finally gave up and rested her head on my lap. 

When we went there, they said that the do for had gone home for he day, but they could take her in and make sure the do for takes a look at her first thing in the morning. 

So, we left her there- at 8.30, they tagged her, her tag was 81 Red. And then we left. 

I prayed, oh god, did I pray, that she'd be fine. 

I kept thinking, "I helped save a life today."

The night passed and I felt sick, so I did t go to school this morning. I kept thinking about what I'd do if this happened to Neo.

At about 11 today, my mother called me up. She asked me if I had done my homework. I told her I was still doing it. She asked me if my grandmother was home. I said no, she has gone down to the bank. She said, "I have bad news." 

My heart dropped as I hoped it wasn't what I thought it was.

"She died," she said. 

"She died," I repeated to myself, and the tears started streaming down my face.

I felt like it was my fault, like I could have done something more. But then, I did everything I could. 

And I just, realised how brutal life can be. Or rather, death. Or, you know, both. 

I had thought I helped save a life. 

I couldn't save her. 

Countless

Looking back now,

Will be for nothing.

Just close your eyes,

And feel yourself falling.

Compare yourself now,

To every star you ever counted. 

Let go of everything you had,

Of everything you ever wanted. 

See the world from far away,

See it as it is.

Live your life, by the day,

And there are so many people to live it with. 

There is no shame,

In shedding a few tears,

There is no other way,

But to overcome all of your fears.

There's a slim chance,

That you won't succeed. 

But an even slimmer chance,

You won't be freed.

So, go, give it a shot,

Slip and fall.

And if nothing else remains,

Countless memories is all--
Countless memories, like Polaroids in my mind,
That can't seem to find their way out. 

India's Daughter

"Hello ji.
Welcome to India.
Here, we have very bad roads and corrupt netajis.
We have bad roads because all netajis steal tax money.
Many accidents happen because of potholes. You want to see pothole? Come, I will show. It is in every street.
Government is taking many money from we people, but they are doing nothing. With God's blessing, Modi will do.
You know Modi? He is Prime Minister of India. Abki baar, Modi sarkar, yes?
Come, I will show you slums. Lot of slums are here. Many poor people are here also.
You see beggars at all traffic signals, many children are not going to school.
How India will progress?
Here in India, lot of things happen. Lot of progress is happening, but. Thank you to Modi.
But, I am telling you okay, you do not use bad words here. All aunties get very angry and give scary looks. Nobody likes the bad words here.
And do not even use the 'S' word okay... The Sex word.
It is very bad thing. All aunties get very angry if someone is saying or doing sex. They say to pray for them.
We pray for the bad people that do sex, but they are not so bad anymore, because of Modi. Modi is very nice, God bless him!
But you know, there are some very bad people in us, who do sex without permission.
There are many men, God help them, who make girls have sex with them even if the girl don't want to do.
You have heard of that Delhi rape case, no? Yes, yes, very sad thing.
That poor girl, her body was very bad when she got to hospital. She passed away after many, many days of fighting from the harm done to her by those boys...
Those five boys, and that bus driver also... One boy was child, below eighteen... Chee cheek very bad, very bad.
One man suicided in jail. Yes, and the boy was given three years in jail.. Very less for very bad boy.
Other four men were sentenced to be dead by hanging them from ropes.
It is very sad.
Rape is happening a lot in India, you know?
One little girl was also raped by school bus driver. And in mumbai also, in day only one lady was raped in one alone Shakti Mill.
It is very much bad things happening now in India.
They made documentary on Nirbhaya, you know?
They went to jail and asked questions to those bad, filthy boys.. Chee, chee. So bad. They asked police and lawyers also, lot of questions they asked to them.
You would like to watch?
But you cannot watch I think. The government has put ban on documentary. They told because there is lot of violent talk and visually it will disturb you, they said.
Yes, it is very bad, yes.
But Modi will do something..."

Surely, the government is doing a lot.
A girl was brutally raped by five men, one was even a minor. And what do they get? A death sentence? What did the minor get? THREE YEARS IMPRISONMENT.
The poor victim suffered so much, and these filthy bastards even shoved what was later described by the police as an L-shaped rusted implement, the type that is used as a wheel jack handle, in her vagina, causing severe damage to her genital and abdomen.
Her friend, who was with her on the bus they boarded, was beaten and they were both thrown off the bus when they were finished with the girl.
They were lying only partially clothed on the road.
One of the accused also admitted to having seen a rope-like object, assumed to be her intestine, being pulled out of her by the other assailants on the bus.
I mean, seriously?! These men should have been tortured life long and castrated.
And now that there is a documentary, the Government goes ahead and bans it!
This documentary interviews the men, who seem to have absolutely no remorse whatsoever.

Flash news: the government wants rapes to not take place? What kind of hypocritical behaviour is this?! If the youth is not exposed to these things, how do you expect any other man to have a conscience and common consideration or even remote respect for women, when no one in this country is going to know about these rapists?
The victim is dead.

The government seems angrier at the documentary than at the actual crime, here.
This is disgusting, even for the government of India.

Can you imagine going through that? I can't. And when I do, it brings tears to my eyes.
Doesn't it scare you, that it could be you? Or your sister, you mother, your daughter, your friend?
Every woman, every girl is a daughter of India. We expect the government to do everything to protect us, which currently, I just don't see happening.
LIFE THE BAN.

What more is it going to take for the government to realise this?

Atelophobia

See, everyone wants to be different, don't you think so?
Everyone wants to be unique, and noticed.
Everyone wants to be remembered.
And in this race to the top, everyone is trying to be different.
Not themselves, but different.
Different in a rebellious sense, that would get people to notice.
And amongst all of this, the few real people that somehow hold onto their true identity, get labelled terms such as 'fake', 'weird' and 'loser', by those that are in the desperate need for attention.
What people don't understand is, if everyone is different in the same, monotonous was of an unusual being, then what, in the true sense, would then be odd, different and noteworthy in this world?
Everyone would dress the same, talk the same, walk the same, make the same, do the same, and all of this, in order to be different?
It's a paradoxical world we live in, and a contradictory nature that we portray.
If you can't see yourself for who you are and find yourself worthy of the attention of people, then why, even upon changing your habit and ways drastically, would someone else see something in you that you, yourself, didn't?
Your body wants to be loved, but by you.
The soul constantly seeks salvation, and not the kind that comes to you after death for being a good person your whole life.
No, not that, this salvation is one of a different kind. This salvation is peace, that comes from within. The kind of peace that could take all the stones pelted at you, for just knowing that the amount of hate you will receive is just a number, or an approximation of some kind.
For numbers fail to define one.
We are what we do, man is a creature of his actions- past and present.
This salvation comes only with the acceptance and love for oneself, it comes from the feeling of oneness with your mind and your soul, and more than just that, the feeling of being enough.

The term 'atelophobia' is very scarcely known to the common masses. It means 'the fear of not being good enough'.
How many of us feel that way? How many of us feel like we aren't good enough?
Not smart enough. Not pretty enough. Not skinny enough. Not fat enough. Not handsome enough. Not fit enough. Not accepted enough. Not loved enough. Not talented enough. Not respected enough. No popular enough. Not funny enough. Not enough. 
Well, let me just remind you- labels mean nothing.
It's okay to break once in a while, it's okay to need the occasional fixing.
If everything was flawless, beauty wouldn't exist. 
And that is what makes imperfection, perfection in a sense that it was supposed to be ever since the dawn of humanity. 
Everyone deserves to feel loved- loved by yourself.
So go, go and love yourself some, and then a little more. 

Valentines Day

You know how it's really easy to go all angry and destructive on someone?
Like you throw a vase at them, and you tell them how much you hate them?
You know how good it feels?
Well, it feels better when you can just let go. When you just sit there, not taking their bullshit.

There have been so many things that have gone wrong today; that would have made me wanna tear my hair out.
But, I ignored it.
And it surprisingly felt better than an outburst would have,
I mean, what couldn't go wrong with Valentines Day, right?
Especially one without a Valentine.

I guess Valentines Day only hurts when you suddenly, have someone to miss.
Someone you imagined as being with you, spending this 14th day of February watching a movie with you, or at the beach. Taking adorable selfies, and saying you love each other.
And then, they aren't there,

Valentines Day is to celebrate love. Then why do most of us mourn it instead?

There's so much to be angry at. So many people. So many things that you could blame.
So much anger that exists, everywhere.
I guess what I'm trying to say is.
You want me to be angry?
You want me to cry and throw a pillow at you and tell you how I loved you so and you broke me entirely?
You want me to spend my days telling my friends how much I hate you and how you haven't replied to me yet?
You want me to be angry?

Well I'm tired of being angry.
And I'm tired of being broken.
I'm trying to fix myself up.

Valentines Day just makes you lonely.
Don't feel it. Don't give in.
There are so many people out there that can't get one square meal.
And we spend this one day crying around and moping about that one ex that we can't get our asses over?
That's wrong.

Because I am not defined by love.
I am not the man I love.
I am not the disease that lives inside me.
I am not the cuts on my hand, and I am not the number of people I have been with.
I am the guitar that I play.
I am the books that I read.
I am the music I listen to, and I am what my heart is made of.
It is I, that defines who I am.
And not love.
I am not a pathetic single person that is angry about being alone on Valentines Day.
I am a strong individual, on Valentines Day, and I am proud to be single.

Bottom line is: Valentines Day sucks unless you have your significant other with you.

Eccedentesiast

I bet you hear her laugh,
Loud and clear,
Like music to your ears,
I'm sure it's a beautiful thing to hear. 
But I doubt you notice the dried tears,
From hurting all these years. 
Every little thing, helping her drift away to a different place. 
Every little thing putting her to waste. 

Confessions of an Internet addict.

I hate slow things. Who doesn't right?
Slow talking, slow people, slow phones, slow laptops and most of all, slow internet.
It really bothers me a lot.
Slow internet.
It's the worst thing that can happen.
And I get that some people don't get that; call me shallow, stupid and naive.
But for a person that blogs so much and chats a lot and who is addicted to Sherlock and other online shows, it really is a nightmare.
It's like, you click on the link, and then why don't you go nap by the time the stupid page loads?
Oh, I have a new message on Facebook? Sure, I think I'd sleep by the time it loads, and then oh, replying is another pain.
I just feel so frustrated and angry I just wanna pull my hair out sometimes because slow internet.
And it's like, God some people just don't get it, you know? Like, how do you not hurt because of it?
I get so impatient and just ugh.
Well. I guess I am a bit of an addict but.
Goodbye bc slow internet.

He.

He was like the wind.
He'd blow over, and mess my hair.
And then my lips would taste sweet.
Wherever he went,
Wherever he took me,
I followed.
I knew just one direction- and that was towards him.
But he was like the wind.
He was everywhere.
And suddenly, he was nowhere.

I wanted him to come back, so bad.
And when he did,
He was strong, he was like a storm.
He messed my hair,
Along with everything else I had.

And now I lie on the ground,
Naked and vulnerable,
Just a casualty.

But I look back,
It was a summer day,
And he was just a wind. 

One Stood.

One stood amongst the mortals,

Blood on the ground, 

Stench of death all around,

Amongst the small, and amongst the tall,

One stood.

The fallen, the deceased,

The men, the monsters, the wealth,

The treasure for which blood was spilled,

Never had they seen gold so red.

And amongst them all, one stood.

Undeniably brave, undefeatable,

Blood on his hands and earth by his feet,

Fierce armies surround him in all directions,

History turned to legend, and legend to myth,

But one stood amongst them all, brave and immortal.

2015: New Years Resolution #1

2014.
It was a great year.
Things happened, stuff went down. Fights were fought, friends were befriended, memories were made and love was spread.
This was the year I truly found myself.
I went from Nerdy, Miss Goody-Two Shoes to, well, ME.
I discovered myself. Dark parts of myself that I never even knew existed. My rebellious side.
I discovered the artist in me. Who had thought I'd want to be a singer? In 2013, I definitely wouldn't have.
I wrote my first ever short story. I started working on this really good book.
I found my escape, I started playing the guitar.
I found out what my fears were. I faced my fears. I fought my fears.
I made friends. I lost them. I got them back. Now, it's an eternal bond.
I fell in love- again and again. I fell in love with music, I fell in love with words and books and poems and stories. I fell in love with a guy. I fell in love with my friends and I fell in love with my mom, with my dad, Because now, I finally understood how things were. And more importantly, I understood that they were exactly how they were supposed to be.
I fell in love with my life, I fell in love with myself- again and again and again.

All in all, it was great, and there's nothing I'd like to change.

You know what the best thing about 2015 is?
You get to repeat 2014 and make the same mistakes again and again, and no one will say anything. Cuz, who cares it's finally 2015.

I lived 2014 trying to tone down the drama queen in me. That's where I went wrong.
These are the teenage years.Every little thing, every broken nail and broken heart is a big deal right now. Live life in 'now'. Right now, it's all that matters, right?

So, here's my one and only Resolution for 2015:
Embrace the crap, embrace the drama.

2015. Embrace it.