Its surprising, actually...

... How fast time passes by.

How you block out things you thought were most important. 

How much things change.

How many emotions one person can make you feel and not in a good way. 

How there are certain days when the sun shines so bright outside that it hurts your eyes but it refuses to dispel the darkness that tiptoes around your aura threatening to engulf you. (wow, that's dramatic)

How some feelings never change. 

How some feelings change so much that you wonder why you felt them in the first place. 

How long you can go without the things that you loved the most.

How much you can change, as a person, over the short period of one year. 

How different a person you actually are from who you thought you were.

How much effort it takes to put a smile on your own face just to ensure that people don't wonder why you always have a hangdog expression.

How little it takes to fall apart.

How difficult it is to just believe the words that come out of a person's mouth instead of questioning every intention, every thought behind it.

How much you have missed out on in a world that was your world.

How many people, relationships you have had to lose because you do not have the strength to explain. 

How cynical you have become of pretty much everything.

How long it has been since you actually had a bar of good, solid, comforting chocolate.

How small things that you left in the past come back to make you smile.

How much courage you get in knowing that you are strong enough to still want to say bring it on. 

How much happiness it infuses in you to know that someone still needs your shoulder. 

How awesome it is when you can cross the road during peaktime traffic all by yourself.

How brilliant it is to have a group of people who just let you be and make you laugh.

How much hope it gives you that those people might let you call them your friends. 

How much it means to know that someone is trying to make you laugh despite everything.

How high you get on being noticed for having potential.

How much it means when someone believes in you with a steadfastness you have yet to see in others' eyes.

How the person you thought you hated is the only one who really believed in you, fought for you.

How funny Will & Grace is.

How some people have the knack of saying exactly what you want to hear and despite your cynicsm, you believe in them.

How mindnumbingly, awesome sukhapuri really is.

A long way, I have come.

A long way, I have to go.

 

I leave you to drool over this monstrosity from Indijoe's, Bangalore. A cake that almost got me a promotion, one that made me sick of food itself for well over a week.

 P.S: I HAD to write a depressing post before I could move past, so COME ON and cut me some slack, won't you? If anybody still visits this place, that is :D

P.P.S: I lost months of work that I did on my blog and a couple of pages that I loved as well, all because of a tiny mistake I made. Ah well, let's start from scratch, shall we?

Of Simple Lives and Raindrops

The doorbell rang.

I groaned out of sheer laziness as I took the plate of nachos off my stomach and dusted the crumbs off the Abercrombie tee.

I tried hard to shake off the dark mood; no thanks to the dismal, cold weather. 

I should have been happy for my best girl, she’d gotten engaged.

But somehow it didn’t feel right.

I knew exactly what wasn’t right though. I’ve gotten used to having her around and now I didn’t want anything to change. I didn’t want to share the only girl who’d seen through the bad boy act and rapped me on the head when I tried to sip Grey Goose in class.

She was the only one who dared.

For one insane second, I thought I was in love. But I knew almost as soon as the thought flitted across my mind that it was bull. Granted that I might have checked out her ass for a second too long than friends should but that was then end of it.

She might be hot but she was most definitely not his type.

You know how so many thoughts take up a second? I reached for the door knob.

***

I was completely wet… the rain had left me shivering to the bones. It reminded me of the torrential showers in Kerala, where I’d grown up; it was like Nature absorbing my wrath.

I wasn’t thinking straight. I couldn’t. He was the last person to go to for relationship advice, I snorted at the idea. But I didn’t have a relationship now, haven’t since I threw Karan’s ring back in his face an hour ago.

Nor did I labour under the illusion that advice was what I was going to him for. Nor did I have any doubt he’d feel otherwise. I’d seen the looks.

***

She was standing there, her clothes plastered to her body, her hair dripping rivulets all over his mat. And she had that look.

He smirked and said, “Look what the cat brought in.” Typical him.

She uttered not a word. Not one.

She looked like she was struggling with something, like an internal war.

“Unless you’re waiting for grass to grow on the door step, get in,” he said.

***

I never was good with over thinking things. When I do, they don’t work out well.

I grabbed the front of his tee and pulled his head down to mine. That should wipe that cocky smile, I thought.

It did. His eyes widened in real shock as he worked out the next part.

Not that I gave him much thinking time. I crushed my lips against his.

***

She was an amazing kisser. Where did she learn that? 

I had to fight to keep my hands to my sides.

I shook my head. I should be more worried about the whooping Karan was going to give me. I pulled away.

“You’re engaged.”

“Not any more.” Some irrational part of me enjoyed the frisson of pleasure that ran through me; she was breathless.

“Heh?”

“Aditi.”

“Oh.”

“I’m going to Leyla’s place, California.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow.”

***

We looked at each other for one long second, the air almost crackling around us.

“Is this rebound?”

“Yes.”

***

His hands went behind her as he pulled her up against him. Was she always this soft?

She went limp as her hands met at the nape of his neck. Did he always have such luxurious hair?

As the kiss deepened, buttons and zippers became outlived their usefulness and normal thought processes had come to a standstill.

Breath shortened. The mirrors misted up. Her barely audible sighs filled the laden air.

And the rain belted out a rock song against the windows.

***

What happened to their story? Maybe someday you’ll know.

But neither California’s lush tomatoes nor Deloitte’s prize package made them forget the beauty of rains in Bangalore.