If

If I told you it was yours,
would you make me keep it?
would you force me to keep it?

Would you believe me,
would you trust me,
if I told you it was yours?

If I told you it was yours,
would you love me?
would you console me?

Would you hold me?
Tell me that all will be okay?
It is you I need the most.

If I told you it was yours,
would you accept it?
would you at least try to be by my side?

I am scared.
I am hoping it isn't what I think it is.
I wish you loved me. I wish we were in love.
But that's okay I guess, accidents happen sometimes.

I will deal with this on my own.
I will deal with this on my own.
It is my cross to bear.
You will never even know.

Rain Fall Down

You can never win if your heart is not pure.
Stop playing victim in situations you aren't.
You're the villain, you stupid boy.
You're the villain of your stories.


I know when someone else makes love to you, you'll be thinking of me.
My body.
My heart.
My head.
My sex.
Your hands on my back.
My hand on your dick.
Etc.
Etc.
Etc.

You can woo all the people in the world.
But they'll never love you like I did.
You can put your dick in her face
Her hands
Her vagina
And yet she can never be me.


It's just a matter of a good fuck.
You won't get it though.
I dare you, I double dare you.

I will haunt you for as long as I live
Eat away at your conscience
Reminding you of your ugliness every time you touch someone else.
I dare you to get my sex out of your head.
I double dare you.

And as for me, I'm trying to be an adult.
You know I don't kiss and tell.
I have my flaws, but I am invincible.
I have been through your hell.

No Sleep For The Wicked

I see them swarm like bees around honey,

Thirsty eyes,

Thirstier souls. 

"But baby, 

I don't do em boys your age no more"

Deepest Scars

The start of something, anything is always beautiful. It could be a song, it could be a new project or heck, it could even be the initial stages of a friendship. 

I wonder what my life will be like when I'm 30ish. I've always imagined it'll be a rainy afternoon lying around with my lover perhaps, reading a book, listening to a jazz record. Perhaps slightly stoned. Perhaps very content, not necessarily happy, but content.

What to do, girl's gotta have some dreams right? 

Misadventures/Athlete

He's like the hero in movies, the one all girls pine for.
What a pretty face.
One I can't forget.

He is a gentleman, or so he appears to be.
What can an athlete and a musician possibly have in common?
So much.
So much actually.

I am scared he will fall in love and I will break his heart.
So young.
So innocent.
I am scared I will ruin him for all women, forever.

I tend to do that sometimes, don't know how but I do.

His eyes twinkle when he laughs.
So adorable.
I wish I could wrap him up and take him home.
And then maybe wrap my legs around him eventually.

Will I see him again?
I can't make up my mind.

But I am scared.
I will ruin him for all women, forever.

Striped Socks

Striped socks on the floor

Endless flirtation 

Girl's gotta grow up at some point

Smoke a joint

Or maybe not

It doesn't really matter

We have to race against the clock

Striped socks on the floor

Along with my underwear

Calm down now

Tomorrow will be another story

Verbal Vomit

Am I talking too fast?

Am I staring too hard?

Please don't judge me,

I only want to kiss you, a little more perhaps.

Am I spacing out too much?

Am I too involved?

Please don't hate me,

I only want to love you. 

Boy v/s Man

I'm infatuated with you, why can't you understand. I think about you when I have nothing else to think about. Think of me too sometimes, please. Or I'll end up giving my still broken heart to someone else.

We're all so lonely, looking for some company. We crave for someone to wake up next to, not always but once in a while maybe. Someone to share and over-share with. 

Isn't it the best feeling, to not go to bed with a broken heart and wake up with a smile? Knowing that someone cares very deeply for you. 

But you're not the one. 

You're not the one I've been looking for.

It's alright though.

I give up.

I can't spend my life chasing after you.

He's new.

Brand new and shiny.

With the face of an angel.

He wants to know me, pick my brain.

The feeling is mutual.

Maybe I'm a bad person for humoring him because I can't have you.

But what do I do?

I'm lonely too.

Simplicity.

Innocence.

Humility.

It'll only be a matter of time I will fall deeply in love.

I thought I'd be you.

I was wrong. 

Lover Of Lovers

I still think about you sometimes.

I wonder if you think about me too.

Do you love me still?

What if I said I love you, too.

But I'll never come back to you.

You pushed me away, threw me out.

I can't return to you anymore.

All the lies and slander.

Your desperation.

Your infidelity.

So many good things, too many bad.

Sex.

So much sex.

Oral.

Anal.

Top.

Bottom.

Left.

Right.

Side.

Upfront.

Standing.

Sitting

Lying down.

Bending forward.

Bending back.

Bondage.

Submission.

Role-play.

Or plain vanilla sex.

A rush, everytime. 

Do you remember the first million times we kissed? Under the moonlight, not a soul around. 

One could make a movie out of our lives.

But so much violence, so much pain

I didn't mind how you'd handle my body.

Paint your pictures.

Mark your territory.

Kiss every inch of it.

It felt like you worshipped my body sometimes.

It felt like I knew every inch of your skin.

Strange familiarity.

You knew my kinks and I knew yours.

Our deepest fantasies, our biggest dreams.

Was it even real what we had or was it just the drugs?

It makes me sad to think that you'd probably try and recreate what we had with someone new, as will I someday.

It makes me lose hope in the concept of "love".

Maybe I wasn't all that fantastic.

Maybe we didn't really have a connection that goes beyond words, it was probably a little fantasy I had conjured in my head.

My heart refuses to let go, make room for someone new.

They won't fuck me like you did.

They won't fuck me like you do.

Off and On

When someone takes your clothes off, piece by piece.
There's a fire burning in your lions.
You want him, more than anything in the world, you want him.

You kiss.
Your tongues find each other.
They dance.
Mate.
Connect.
Become one.

He holds you in his arms, you're in love.
All of a sudden.
Your guards drop.
You're naked and vulnerable in front of him.
The two of you know you want to make love.
For a change.
Probably your first time.
You want his love more than his hunger this time.
He treats you gently, doesn't reprimand you like the other times when you two've frolicked in public spaces, cars, rooftops, rooms etc etc.
He enters you without his guard on.
His heart is his dick.
So gentle, so loving, so satisfying.
You don't orgasm but you feel strangely ecstatic, like you're on drugs.
You feel whole for a fraction of a second and you want to hold on to that feeling forever.

You make endless and eternal love on an afternoon as the sunlight soaks in through the curtains. You're in his room, you want to be in his heart.
Hours seem like mere minutes.
The deed is done, you're back to wearing your clothes again.

Why must he tell you that he loves you when he doesn't.
He mistakes lust for love.
You mistake love for lust.
Game over.

Newfound Singlehood:Observations

1.  The ratio of man:woman at social gatherings is terrible. Even if you don't want it, you will find yourself chatting with more men than women.
2. At what point does a conversation become flirting? I am so terrible at flirting. I have the charm of a cockroach. It's sad and hilarious at the same time.
3. It is now very clear that I only pique the interest of 30 somethings and about-to-be 30 somethings. For me, it is scary because I still identify as a girl and not yet a woman. Like a game, I try and pick their brains, try to figure them out. It's exhausting though, they're tougher nuts to crack.
4. My options are endless but why can't I find a person I actually like and want to be with? I'm not compromising anymore, if you want me then you'll have to woo me, seduce me, possibly make me fall in love.
5. Nobody tells you how lonely it gets from time to time. You don't want to spend so much time choosing from available options, ultimately I'd like to hit it off with that one special person and be with them and only them. I wish I could function like a guy in these matters, I'd just fuck and forget. It's a lot more convenient that way.
6. I am totally crushing on a douchebag at the moment. Why, heart, why do you do this to me every time?
7. All these months of being single has made me realise that human beings are conceited, full of themselves and most of them are damaged beyond repair. I almost regret sticking my tongue down this one guy's throat who will just not stop talking about his ex girlfriends and lovers. OH MY GOD, IT IS THE WORST THING, to have to patiently listen to people go on and on and on about their sexual/romantic history. Why do grown-ass men do this!
8. Women are wicked. Stay away from them. DO NOT fall in love with another woman. DO NOT. Just don't, no good will come of it.

Deepest Wounds

I'd rather take a knife to my stomach than your cruel words.

Your lies.

Your beliefs.

Your self-obsession.

I'd rather get punched in the face, kicked, slapped, bruised.

Like I have been so many times before by men, boys, monsters etc.

This superficiality around me makes me so sad.

Nobody cares.

Nobody loves.

Nobody lives.

Nobody believes. 

It's unfair that I feel all these feelings so deeply and most people don't.

It's not a fucking superpower, it is a curse.

Over the years, I've learnt to abandon my firm belief in the fact that someone will come and rescue me from my endless tragedies. Someone will love me slightly more than I love them, for a change. Someone will fix all these holes in my heart, if nothing else. 

Disney movies, however, are not real. Real life is cruel. People are cruel. I can't fathom why, but they are. I guess everybody is too involved with themselves to care about anybody else. It's incredibly heartbreaking.

Sometimes I wish I could physically feel all of this pain instead of this sinking feeling in my stomach.

I am tired.

I am so tired.

Of being this cheerful.

Like nothing is wrong.

When in my head I've devised a million ways to kill myself.

I want to die.

I want to die.

I want to die.

I want to die.

I want to die, please, universe.

I don't want anything.

I just want to die.

Note To Younger Self

Dear me,

Thank you for holding on, despite all the tragedies you've had to undergo. There are things which you probably should have done and things that you shouldn't have. But that's okay. Life goes on.

Love

Slightly Older and Wiser Me

Broken Social Scene

I don't need tinder 

I don't need facebook

I don't need the internet to find you

I'll find you in real life. 

You exist.

I've passed you so many times before.

Maybe we've glanced at each other.

You holding someone.

Me with someone else.

You exist.

I know you do.

You could be the one I've kissed while drunk.

You could be the one I've kissed completely sober. 

Out there in your world, I hope you think of me too. 

I hope you feel as deeply as I do.

I exist.

Only for you. 

Deep down I am a junkie. I get addicted to all sorts of things, activities, people etc etc. But I abandon my habit one fine day, just like that. I've been like that for years now. With time I have learnt to channelise my addiction to constructive things. Lately it's been working out. I am dying to get back in shape, be flexible like a freak because I want to have sex with someone, let him see me naked. It's exciting, my motivation. It's quite effective too. I mark my workouts on my calendar, went shopping for sexy fitness wear to wear during my workouts and what not.

It's taken me a long time but I've learnt to love myself, give myself some credit for pulling off the stunts of my past.

It feels almost comical to remind myself of my dendrite days, I'd like to think I've come a long way since.

But man o man, I was so incredibly addicted to dendrite. The first time I got high on dendrite was when I was at home one day. That was the first time I heard or one of the first times that I heard, In Utero. It was dreamlike. It was surreal, scary, grotesque and yet so comforting.

I've changed a lot since. I really have. Sometimes I can't relate to the person I was when I was 15/16. Why did I do the things I did, to get here, where I am today? 

My only addiction that still remains is probably dick. I went through a phase where I wanted Mister Mystery's dick inside of me 24/7. I never wanted him to pull out, for us to stop. It was a strange kind of addition. I almost relapsed into something similar with A. But dick is like heroin. It slowly kills you, sucks the life out of you in exchange of endless pleasure. 

Orgams.

I'm an orgasm junkie.

"I think I'm dumb. Or maybe just happy" 

Done By None

The older I grow, the more I am sure that dating men isn't quite my thing. I love dick, but I hate the person it comes attached with, usually almost always. The last person I was in a relationship of sorts with, scarred me beyond repair and somehow it's not even about him, all men are like that. At least almost all the ones I have been with so far in life. I don't get men, I just don't understand the way they think and function. First they chase you, woo you only because they want to sleep with you. It's good initially and then they have this obsessive need to look around elsewhere. You can be a goddess in bed and yet your will find it hard to control his roving eye. Why? I don't get why sex is so important for men, sex without any connection, without any intimacy. I need to feel connected to the person I am having sex with, how can I have good sex otherwise? I probably won't even orgasm.
Why can't women orgasm as easily as men?

I have often dated people who I have been obviously too good for and yet it is they who have treated me like shit. It's a little absurd when I think of all the vile things people have done and said. But why? Why are men so cruel?
I'm done with men. All of them. I'm sick and tired of pining after guys only to have them crush my heart into pieces. I think I have been going about this all wrong. I need to find me a good woman with the same relationship goals as me.

Your loss, men of the world.
I could have been the best you've ever had, but you missed your chance.

Something In The Way

With so many new projects in the offing, I'm slowly starting to get into a groove of sorts. It feels quite fantastic to play my music with people I've looked up to growing up. This is real. This is my life and I'm doing something I've always wanted to. I took a big risk, my world is at stake. I don't know if any of this will work or not, but I'm not in this for the power, popularity or the fame. 

I could do this for the rest of my life, playing my songs with people who get me. 

Some money along the way would be good too though. 

Replay.

I wake up with a hangover. I check to see the contents of my phone. No embarrassing pictures, no drunken texts to anybody. Thank god. I remember playing M's telecaster, jamming with the guys on a new song they've been working on for the last couple of weeks. I am surprised by how much I've grown over these last few years, quite quickly in fact. I think of the young starlet and her desperation to fit in, to be accepted. I feel bad for her since I've never had to go through a phase of not being liked by anybody. That's probably because I've been serious and humble all my life. I don't do the page-3 scene. I have talent, like many others. But what I have more than others is probably self-respect, when it comes to my work. I want to reach out to her, sit her down and advice her to pick up the pieces and turn her life around. But I don't think she'd like that very much. Sometimes you have to let people learn from their own mistake, you cannot guide everybody all the time.

I don't understand arrogance, what causes some people to be so incredibly proud of having achieved so little. It turns me off. I guess I'm allowed to be a snob about these things because I've seen and worked with greats from a really young age and when you grow up watching someone like Amyt Dutt and Jivraj Singh play, you realise how inconsequential your achievements really are. You are a great big nothing in comparison. What's so inspiring about all these greats is their humility, their grace. I am in awe of them, I want to emulate them somehow. I feel grateful to be surrounded by all these individuals who I have so much to learn from.

I crib about my daily struggles to someone who's produced all the greatest bands and artists you've probably heard. Starting from Jerry Garcia to Nirvana to Radiohead. When people like that advice you, guide you, you have a tremendous amount of pressure on your back to do something with your life instead of fooling around. I guess grace is something that people from other cities will never know. But I think of how me and my friends are at a juncture where people are starting to take us seriously. It's intimidating, their expectations. I'm not a wonder kid with spunk anymore, I need to engage women and the youth to think and practise thinking instead of taking what they have for granted.

On my way to the restroom, I see a bunch of kids sitting around, whispering excitedly as they see me pass. I hear someone murmur my name. How do they know my name? They seem to be in awe. I glance at them, I expect they're looking at me because I look hot (got to pull out a few sexy tricks out of the bag once in a while to stay relevant!) but that is not the case, they give me the 'Oh there goes Suyasha didi' vibes. I am flattered and quite amused. I also feel responsible all of a sudden. I should be able to influence these kids, teach them the importance of being humble and hardworking.
I need to work harder. I need to be more dedicated perhaps.

My band has been in the spotlight since the release of our debut album but that's really nothing if you think about it. I have my body of work on record and I am proud of it, definitely. Yet somehow it is not enough.

I have been working harder since the release of the album. Exploring new genres and styles, trying to create more music, better music.
I am excited about the new projects that I've been working on. The harder I work, the more I practise, the more self confidence I seem to have. The line between confidence and arrogance is a thin one. My reality check comes when people I've grown up idolising want to play music with me. It feels strange, almost like I high. But it's a scary feeling.

"What if I play wrong chords?"
"What if I sing off-key?"
"What if I can't deliver?"

I ask M if I can play his guitar. He brings out his amp instead of poking fun at me. We exchange guitars and he teaches me to play his song and I sing along as he plays one of his older tunes. He's the sweetest guy you'll ever meet if you can get past his obnoxious outer layer. I love how he's so incredibly sweet to people he likes and such a bitch to people he doesn't. There is so much to learn from him. People need to cut him some slack I think, especially those who don't know him or have never hung out with him.
This Calcutta clan is tight as ever, almost like a family now. I am one of the youngest in the brat pack and I love every minute of it. I feel safe, protected. This is something that I have been craving for for a long time now-acceptance for who I am, without having to pretend.

I had very predictable reactions of my set from those who came in last night. The audience loved it, that's not the point though. The audience will love anything as long as you play from your heart. That isn't even a criteria for me anymore. But I've still got to fine tune, smoothen the creases. There's so much work still left.

I want to work my ass off these next two months and then take a vacation, which I am hoping will involve some drugs. I need to squeeze some sex in there as well, I don't know how but I have to. I have two frickin months to find someone I like and want to have sex with. That's the one thing I need to keep me rooted, down on the ground.

Sex really is my biggest stress buster. I have said this many times before, I am a very sensual person by nature. When I'm writing a song or playing a gig or even practising, it is like fornication for me. It is sacred, the experience is deeply personal. I guess that's why I am so attracted to music, it's basically like fucking for me.

Anyway, two months to find a new squeeze. Challenge to self accepted.