Criminals

As most people my age spend their time these days, I was browsing my newsfeed on facebook when a picture of you popped up. You looked good, beautiful as always.
You've grown your hair out and you seem to have put on a little weight, you still look as gorgeous, but your eyes seemed so tired and so sad.
I miss your tender embrace at times.
You said you'd love me like no other and you did.
I miss speaking to you, holding you, running my hands down your body.
But I loathe you for making me not want to fall in love with a woman ever again.

Things would have turned out so differently if we'd still been together, if you had made up your mind once and for all. We were so happy at one point of time in life, lost in each other and completely oblivious to the homophobic world around us.
But there's no point in dwelling in the past now and I've learnt it the hard way.

I still feel as empty and lost as I did before.
I have seldom felt so lonely and hopeless.
This is quite possibly the worst phase in my life where nothing seems to make sense and everything seems to go all wrong.
I am all alone and I wish you were here, to comfort me and tell me that everything's going to be fine one day.

There was a time when spending even a day without seeing each other would turn our worlds upside-down. I am not being needy though, I am just overwhelmed by how we've become total strangers to each other now.


With a broken heart in dire need of mending and no particular purpose in life, I wonder if you miss me sometimes or even think of me at all...

People's fascination with my love-life makes me feel like such a local celebrity at times.
"is she sleeping with him?"
"did they break up?"
"did you see her with that French dude?"
"I heard she was chatting up that girl the other day"

oh man.
Thank you for adding fuel to my narcissism and making me feel like some kind of a sex-goddess.

There are days, like today for instance, when I feel like tripping on mdma and listen to Bonobo all day.

I miss the anonymity that Delhi had to offer. It was so much easier to do so many wild/crazy things without having to think of the consequences it would have on my "image".

But then again, no vacation is permanent!

Think Things Through

He claimed he was in love.

He claimed she was the one.

He ate into her head.

He said he was sorry.

He said he'll be a better man.

Just to bite into her skin.

Dishonesty.

Cruelty.

So many vices, but these the worst.

I broke down.

I cried.

I poured my heart out to a stranger who I thought was my friend.

But I was merely a trophy. Again.

I may be strong but I hurt too.

My ego does not permit me to be with someone who openly eyes others when with me.

And talk about others with lust filled in his heart.

I may not say anything.

But I observe quite well.

I won't be taken for a ride with your fake concern anymore.

Excess

Tell me everything, tell me all the things I don't want to hear.
Tell me.
Whisper them into my ears or scream them out loud.
I'm listening.

I have so many questions to ask.

Did you kiss her the way you kiss me?
Did she make you cry when she went down on you?
Did you fuck her like an animal like you do to me?

Did you leave marks on her body that wouldn't go away for weeks as well?
Did you grab her, turn her over and fuck her like you do with me?

Is her face plastered on mine when you make love to me?
Is she still the one you dream about having a future together with?

Tell me.
Tell me everything.
Tell me everything I'd rather not know.


Did she hold back her tears when you raised your hand on her?
Did you hit her and call it an accident as well?
Did you make it a habit of eyeing other women when you were with her or do you only do that with me?
Did you make her dream and break her heart as well like you did with mine?

How many times did you tell her that you love her?
How many hours did you spend exploring every inch of skin on her body?
How many moments did you spend worshipping her?


Am I as good as her?
Am I as good as her?
Do you think I am as good as her?
Can I ever be as good as her?



I don't want to even if I could.
I'm not going to be someone's sloppy seconds.
With the click of a finger I'll have a hundred more like you lined up, waiting to be with me.


At the end of the day I'm using you as much as you're using me.

Dream Until Your Dream Come True

I have taken the plunge.

And to be honest, I am petrified. 

I have never felt so scared in my life before.

I can make it.

I can make it?

Crazy/(Not) Beautiful

Adolescence was never a regular affair for me. I've always felt isolated from what goes on around me, like I don't really belong.
Delhi has been somewhat surreal so far, I've learned more about myself in the last few months than I ever did sitting in my room in Calcutta.
I've come to terms with the fact that I will always be lonely. Nobody can fill the void. Not because nobody can, but because I don't want anybody to.
My void gives me a sense of purpose.
It keeps me going.
Floating from place to place.
Moving on from one person to another.
My void gives me life.

I've been called many a name, both to my face and behind my back. Some hurt and some I dismiss as a joke, to be taken with a pinch of salt.
People sometimes do and say the most cruel things unintentionally.
I let it all go.
I feed the void.
It grows.
It takes over my brain.
My void consumes me.
I let it.
It gives my life some meaning that way.

I have been manic and depressed for as long as I can remember.
How did things get so fucked up?
I cannot remember.
My head has stopped listening to me.

Merry Christmas To Me

It's strange how I find myself all alone during times when I am craving for the company of a fellow human being the most. Loneliness is such a sad, sad thing.

There is no feeling more heartbreaking than knowing you're all alone.

I've been drifting in and out of depression lately. 

What is worrying though, is my complete lack of faith and hope that somehow things will work out just fine in the future. 

Reality is scary and the fact that I am not a child anymore has hit me very hard, like an unintentional but firm slap across the cheek when the brain is on acid.

I've built these walls so high that nothing breaks my heart anymore. Yes, I feel amused perhaps, but never upset because I know that happiness is something that doesn't really exist. It's all just a facade to keep ourselves from falling apart.

What is the point in craving to be with someone who does not exist anymore? What is the point in giving my heart to somebody who will land up breaking it into a million little pieces anyway?

Why fall in love when you can have sex and just leave it at that?

I've been told that I hold on to old memories too much and that I should move on. But move on to what? Yet another phase of self-destruction and mutilation? Things have been getting progressively worse inside my head over the years to the point of a complete breakdown.

I am losing my mind and this time, unfortunately, I don't think I will be able to recover from it.

I have given up all hope.

It was never worth it, at the end of the day.

I don't want anyone beside me.

I don't want anybody to love me.

I've had enough.

I am alone.

I have always been.

I am a phoenix.

I shall rise from my own ashes someday.

But just like Santa, there is no such thing as a Christmas miracle and I am learning that the hard way

Expiry Dates

I can't help but feel that you and I are running out of time. The urgency is driving me mad. I can't help but crave for one more time.

But don't show any mercy.

Don't treat me like a child.

I want to submit to you.

One more time.

Paint your pictures on me.

Bite into more than you can chew.

Destroy me.

For I want to be devoured by you.

Make me come

Make me cry

Make me come alive

Before I die....

Death By Fornication

I firmly believe that there will be a day when the lioness will be tamed. She can't be wild and free forever can she?
I want a man to violate me, to finish what one man started.
I want to scream.
I want to cry.
Replace all memories I have with new ones.
Maybe then I'll be truly free?

"Don't Scar My Face"

Fatigue. That's the first word that comes to my mind if I have to talk about myself.

I am tired.

I am so incredibly tired.

And sad.

I am living in a loop of eternal melancholy.

I'm so unsure of myself.

But I will not cry.

Especially not in front of you.

Even though my heart is breaking into a million little pieces.

You say all the right things.

But your eyes, they lie.

Lust.

Greed.

Fascination.

Infatuation.

Aggression.

Compassion.

But not love.

It's not that easy to fall in love and stay there.

I would know.

I've spent every waking minute looking for it, hoping that it still exists.

I Love You Mom

I wish I had my mother's grace. She'd always wanted to be a dancer when she was young and boy, she was the most gorgeous woman you'd ever see!
But her career was short-lived as she never really made her "passion" her "profession" and chose to be a professor instead, trading her ghungroo for reading glasses.
And here I am, 22 years later, awkward as hell and graceless like an old man with ADHD.


I wish my mother would take up dancing as a full-time career instead of a life of academics and family. I love her to death, but I don't want to be another her.

So beautiful, so surreal and so incredibly talented…but such a waste.

What's the point in being a good person?
My mother is one of the most honest, loving and hardworking people you will ever come across, but where did it get her? She's stuck with a problem child like me forever now!

Nice people always lose the race in this world.

Cherish the time that you spend with me.

I will be gone soon.

Forever.

Nothing makes sense anymore.

I am in pain.

I am in pain.

I am in pain.

In a strange new land.

Strange faces.

Strange memories.

Where nothing makes sense anymore.

I am in pain.

I am in pain.

I am in pain.

Only you can help me heal.

I should have cherished the time we spent together.

Taken pictures of ourselves.

Written each other little notes.

But we didn't.

We thought we were invincible.

But you're gone now.

It makes me sad.

I am in pain.

I am in pain.

I am in pain.

The loop is endless.

Musings at Midnight.

"Freedom was just another word, for nothing left to lose…"

There is a road that leads one to the Aravalli Guest House from the Ganga hostel (where some of my friends stay). It's covered with trees, the road is pucca and once the sun is down, feels just like a forest reserve.
I have been in a strangely reflective state of mind lately and while walking down that road tonight, I realised that everybody is always alone. They try so desperately to cling on to another, to share their world with another. But why? Not to let the other person in, but to only feel good about themselves.

What is freedom but being able to break away from all these shackles of attachment that bind us together!
I want to be free.
But I do not have the courage yet.

Do It and Do It Again

So this is my first post from the rape capital of India, New Delhi. I moved here in August (?) and have been studying (?) at JNU, which I think is making me an even bigger elitist asshole than I used to be before I got here.

I've been living in a state of perpetual haze and I have absolutely no idea what it is that I am doing. I don't even recognise the person I am anymore. It's sad and scary.
What do you do when you lose control of your life? I had my shit together and everything changed all of a sudden. I have no idea what the future has in store for me. I am scared, I am terribly terribly scared. But mostly I'm just sad because I've come to terms with the fact that good things don't last forever.

Starting all over again is something that I've always wanted to do. There is no monster here. But that would mean erasing all the memories that I've been suppressing for so long. I can't get myself to do that. I'm not that strong yet.

But what if I don't want it to go away because it makes me who I am?
What if I've been scarred so deep that I can never fully heal?

Life is supposed to be all fun and games when you're a child. But my childhood, unfortunately, was not like that.I've been trying to compensate for that on my own, but look where it got me. I'm more lost than I have ever been. I have no idea who I am anymore.
I have no morals. I have no sense of right and wrong. I loathe my body at times, I scar it, abuse it and try and break it . But there's nothing wrong with my body, it's my head that needs cleansing.

Why can't I break out of this cycle of self-harm and channel it to do something more constructive with my life?
Probably because everything I do and say is placed under a magnifying glass and scrutinised oh so dearly.
But by who, girls who want to be like me? Boys who want to be with me?
No, people who have absolutely no idea what it's like to be me.
So I crawl back into my shell, stop expressing how I really feel.
And I die a little bit, as each day passes me by.

Feelings are overrated anyway, aren't they?
If I could, I really would pull an 'Eternal Sunshine' on myself just to see what it feels like to not feel anything.


I wish people would see that it's not easy to put up a brave face all the time. I want to feel vulnerable again, only this time not have anybody take advantage of that. But I can't let my guard down because there is nobody to trust.
Some love me for my body and the things they can do to/with it.
Some love me for my head, they love to probe and see how damaged I am.

But guess who I love. I love no one except for myself. I do love other human beings occasionally, but I will always put myself before them. I'm not even apologetic about it because I truly believe that it's okay to be a selfish person. Everyone is a selfish person at the end of the day. I'm no exception. I'm no martyr.

Fool me once, shame on you.
Fool me twice, shame on me, right?

Glorious Endings

The end that never was meant to be,
can't you see,
can't you see,
that the end was never meant to be?

In pain and in suffering I find my will to live.
I will go on like this forever.
Unless I am rescued.

Are you man enough?

Blew

Anything to be like you.
Anything to be liked by you.
Is there another reason?

Big clouds of smoke.
The biggest I have seen.
Is there another reason?

You could do anything.

So Less, Soul-less.

I wonder if I'm going to turn into a full blown alcoholic by the time I'm 30 years old. I started my day with some rum and I'm ending it with the same. It's not normal, at least not for a 21 year old. I don't drink too much, I don't act too crazy when drunk. I act normal and that's rather unhealthy.

I drink because it helps me reach other people, or rather it helps them reach me. I can't seem to relate to anyone. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a loner, but I just can't seem to be able to open up to another person beyond a certain point, feel as though I know them and they know me.

It's terrible to feel so lonely, day in and day out.

Depression has always been the dominant part of my bipolarity. I have been depressed for as long as I can remember. Depression is not a feeling, it's a disease that eats away whatever little hope you have left inside you.
There are days when I don't feel like getting out of bed at all, so I don't. I stay in bed all day doing nothing but bawling, but why? I don't know. That's what depression is for me. It's that feeling of sheer helplessness which makes you want to do nothing but cry.

So I cry sometimes. I cry a lot. But that's only for me to see, it's a secret that I tuck away from the rest of the world.

And I think of the physical abuse.
And the shame.
And the self-loathing.
And the pain.
And the heartbreak.

And I cry some more.

I wonder if I had been this damaged had I not been raped a decade back.
I wonder all sorts of things.
To make that sinking feeling go away. But nothing I do seems to be enough and I land up sabotaging my relationships with all those who are close to me in some way or the other.

It is a vicious cycle of abuse in a way. It doesn't end. It will never end.

The Passenger

If I could run away from this dying city, I would.
I would run away and never come back.
Vultures. Maggots. Urban vermin.

Getting high doesn't make sense anymore.
I need a better escape plan, a more permanent one.

I am my own passenger.
I ride.
"I am the passenger
And I ride and I ride"