i'm not as depressed as my last post says i am anymore.

writing always helps you calm down,doesn it?

look around you....!!

Why is there so much hurt?so much pain?
so much dirt;so much grime?
so much sorrow?;so many tears?

why is everything around me dead?
why is the sky breaking just above ma head??
why is it threatening to fall down??....on you..n me??


why is there no tenderness in love?
why is there perversion in passion?


why is there no bonding in friendship?
why is there no promise in trust?

why is there no warmth in a smile?
why is there no dance in laughter?

why is there no TRUTH in ecstasy?
oh..why is there no rapture in glee?

why is there no rain without sludge?
why is there no sun without gloom?


why is the darkness so pitch?
why is there no silver lining??




BLACK i feel!!
BLACK i hear!!
BLACK i taste!!
BLACK i see!!

BLACK,forever will it be?!

come,fall in love!!

Those of you who have actually been following my blog might have noticed that I deleted a certain post bout getting back to my “ex-HIM”.


All thru the last two years people have warned me bout the heart-wrenching pain that love sometimes causes …n when they did, all I could do was to but scoff at the very notion of the astoundingly beautiful emotion actually hurting me.

I was certain only fools could get hurt in love.
I stupidly convinced myself I wasn’t one….at that time.



At that time, according to me… LOVE was what made the grass green, the sky blue, the birds twitter, the sun dawn!
Love was the very essence of life.

It was the dance in all laughter.
It was the flavour in all fragrance.
It was the chaos in all noise.
It was the poignancy in all silence.
It was the melody in all music.
For some strange reason…at that time…to me …love was what the whole world seemed to work on.



Love is STILL all those things.:)
N much much more.



I don’t want my story…or yours….. to be jus another case of unrequited love.
A sob story bout a helpless female impossibly in love; pining for the guy who forgot to bother to care is the last thing women-dom needs now.:)



Love is a lesson by itself.
It never fails to stun me with its sheer power to turn life on top of its head.


But more importantly…..love is a GIFT.
It is the only thing in the world that doesn’t involve business.
It is the only thing that remains “unconditional” in every sense of the word.



There’s only ONE way to love and to laugh---insanely; without reason.:)
At the risk of sounding incredibly romantic n utterly stupid…I suggest each one of us try to love like we ve never been hurt before!

Love can fade.
But it NEVER dies.
It always exists around you in some form……fuelled by the sweetest word coined by the English-HOPE.


Sometimes the pain love causes literally slices thru you, cold n cruel.
it travels to corners you never knew existed in you keeps chipping away.
You wanna weep n curse n fume n fight those emotions all at once.

n When that very force lurks right above you n threatens to break on your head….you wanna surrender to the pain; silently succumb to what is obviously more powerful than you are.
I wanted to.
Trust me.


but its only when you pull yourself thru all that you realise you re truly blessed.:)


I loved ‘him’.
With a force that stunned me.
A force that startled me.
A force stronger than anything YOU could’ve possibly witnessed.
N even after all the pain I’m not one bit ashamed of all that.

If I was hurt…..I’m not showing it…..am I?!

Come, fall in love..!!:)

have you ever wondered why cricket is still the most popular sport of the nation???

despite a miserable world cup in the windies;
despite internal scandals so ugly that they even extinguish your fire for gossip;
despite the current team actuallly being a bunch of individuals loosely bound by a thread called a "team- manager";
despite the embarrasment after embarrasment we- the cricket-watchin-public face after each poundin loss...



WHY is cricket....arguably...but STILL a phenomenon in our country..?

why do those colleg students sneak in smses every over durin an india-IRELAND encounter.?
why do spectacled office-goers still tune onto the radios on their moile phones under the hawk-eyes of their higher officials..?
why does the frugal tea-shop owner bring with him to work a miniature tv set evryday?
why do the men workin at a nearby constuction site flock into that tea shop durin their ten-minute lunch break?
why do sari-clad middle-aged women pray fervently that MS.dhoni hits a sixer?



well...if you ask me...watchin cricket is a lot like being in love.
the heart-stoppin excitement;the shatterin anguish.the delights;the disappointments.the thrills;the heart-breaks.
the joy.the laughter.
the pain.
the PROMISE.

so?what makes the game so special?

in a nation starved of success in sport...a sachin tendulkar is not jus a star;he is the SUN.
in a country that shelterd gandhi and housed ahimsa....a gnarling,bare-chested saurav ganguly is an inspiration;a wonder.
in a land governed by aging,murky men in white...a fourteen year old gully-cricket player is a reason to pride;to beam.


in an india...cricket is but a source of "HOPE".


we are not and probably never will be the greatest cricketin nation in the world..n other sports might take over cricket in popularity.
but for some...cricket will ALWAYS remain a reason to smile.

to say "awww..cricket is only a game..!!" is almost ridiculous.
to call cricket a 'religion' is too cliched,
to call it a 'rage' seems too inadequate,
to call it a "celeberation of life" itself sounds jus right.

that i have'nt posted anything on what was and maybe still is probably my biggest passion is quite surprising..not jus for me..but for those who know me really well.

yeah.im talkin bout cricket.

why a sport like cricket should be a teenage girl's PASSION....above all other things....crossin the boundaries of mascarra n lip gloss n pretty models n leather pumps n celery stalks;is rather dumbfoundin.

i remember wen i was eleven years old sighin at the television screen and wonderin how two dozen sweaty men in drab uniforms chasin after an ever-evadin ball could hold the non-flinchin attention of bout twenty supposedly civilised adults in my drawin room.

i also remember seein those very people jump up like hooligans and n scream n curse n rant n rave.
well....that was when i started to wonder...and look where its got me now..!

i don want you thinking I've run out of topics to talk about....so this post.

n what am i going to tell u about today?




its the latest rage that has swept south India in the last few months.
its the current topic on conversation at 7.30 AM breakfast tables.
its what IT professionals discuss in their lunch hour.
its what 12B bus conductor talks about with the regulars on the bus.
its what ten-year-olds are now gabbling about.
its what middle-class women are at this moment gossiping about in the evenings.

its is........a phenomenon called SIVAJI.



to me...........n maybe to you............this is just a movie.
a lavish,big movie.
but nothing more.


firstly........this is not a review or a a spoiler of sorts.....so read on even if you haven seen the film.


one look at the crowds thronging the sathyams n abiramis n alberts of chennai alike..........you wonder if this is after all just a movie.

a glimpse of the [in]famous milk n beer bottles emptied out on cut outs of the super-star as if to prove his demi-god status......you doubt if YOU are the weird one out.

reports of friends willing to pay thousands for a ticket to the first day's first show confirms your doubt!!



you enter the theatre to shouts of 'thailava' n hoots n whistles n cat-calls from men in drunken stupors.
you stare at the college students dancing to the opening number n blowing kisses to the screen and grimace n smile with amusement at the same time.

you see the little girl living down your street stare at the screen.....wide-eyed n open-mouthed.
you see the grumpy old man working at your dad's office wave at you cheerfully.

you notice the meagre clerk fish out his hard-earned savings n proudly buy tickets for his family of six.

n you suddenly realise.............that for many..........this is a dream come true.


For the hard-core fan who waits every three years to perform his customary milk n beer 'abishekams';for that grumpy man i told you about who believes that Tamil cinema is a waste of time save the super star ;for that little girl who swoons at the hero's hairstyle;for that clerk who visits the theatre twice a year;for the middle class woman shyly holding her husband's hand n smiling without knowing.

then.........you look back at the screen.


you see the expensive sets n the lavish costumes,you note the visual extravagance,you stare at the drop-dead gorgeous heroine young enough to be the hero's daughter,you notice Rahman's enthralling music,you realise the strong feel-good factor that accompanies all super-star movies..................n you, suddenly struck by a bolt of you-don't-know-what believe that the movie deserves an Oscar.

this is not a movie after all.
thanks to a certain hero.
a super star in every sense of the word
.a certain Sivaji Rao Gaekwad...........otherwise known as Rajnikanth!


---------------------------------------------------

somewhere down the line.....we lost it.


maybe we panicked.
maybe we over-reacted.
maybe it was a moment of insanity.
maybe it was pure foolishness.
maybe we were hasty.
maybe we were selfish.
maybe we were plain childish.
maybe we ll regret the desicion.


we met again.we relived those moments.
for a moment i saw in his deep brown eyes the same helplessness i felt.he seemed to mirror my feelings..........he seemed to want to hold me again;to make me his;to grab me tight;to never ever let go...............or so i thought.

i wanted to sing ..........once again.


maybe i was dreaming.
maybe i was just HOPING.
maybe..........just maybe.....it really is over.






.........its OVER.

n we have to move on.

i might.

no.

i WILL.

but right now................i just need a hug.



-*-*-*-*-*-*

We pulled through troubles..........we pushed through problems...........we crossed hurdles.........we egged each other on.......
we decided we were truly meant to be........



we spoke about love n betrayal;loyalty n infidelity;friendship n family;mobile phones n vacations n college degrees n Indian thinking.

we spoke about pet animals n Himalayan forests.



we spoke about the past.
we spoke bout the future.


we dreamt of a future together.

we spoke about a fairy-tale wedding;about white roses n ice sculptures n chocolate fountains decorating the halls.

we spoke about the future.together.

we said "we" not "me".


when i was a wide-eyed little girl in piggy-tails i dreamt of a lover.

An overwhelmingly affectionate,unbelievably committed,extremely possesive macho man.

HE was all those things........n then some.