Good girls get married…

Good girls get married.

They go from one house to another,

Coyly smiling with their bright red lips

and mascara stained  eyes,

because only shameless girls

don’t cry during vidaai!

Good girls get married.

They never speak loud and

Always cover up their heads

With a saree,

They apply red bindi, sindoor

And a chain around their neck

To be a sanskari naari.

Good girls get married.

They don’t date random men

they meet on the internet.

They wait for their parents,

to set them up with strangers instead.

Good girls get married.

They remove the tattoos of past lovers

 from their shoulders,

And dye their hands with henna,

they tame their curls and tie them up in a bun,

They keep fasts on Fridays,

Praying for a son.

Good girls don’t swear,

complain or question

old, illogical  traditions,

they follow rules-

neither love nor lust,

without permission.

Good girls don’t laugh out loud,

Or write out poems on their oppression.

Good girls just get married.

Alas, I am not a good girl.


Image from here.

P.S. Well… Hello People!!!

Some Things End, Some Begin…

I am not sure whether this is a comeback post or just a culmination of all the posts I am trying to write in the past several months. I can’t believe that I started this blog with the dreams of becoming a writer someday but somehow it ended up being a graveyard of my sorrows and broken dreams.

I know I have written some pretty intense things here, my struggle with depression, my failures, my heartbreaks and if someone who knows me in real life right now ends up reading this, he’ll be in one hell of a shock. That is the thing with people, you never really know them in entirety but only bits and pieces of what they want you to know. But this blog is where I feel whole. The internet is usually a place to show off your best life but for me blogging turned out to be a journey to find myself and be true to my own beliefs. If this means I have to share my not-so-great life with others, I am okay with it.


I started working three months ago. It isn’t exactly a “job” but I get paid, get a chance to do something at a reputable place, and also see new people, talk , laugh, have tea or lunch with them, which is unlike what I’ve been doing since the past two years, that is sitting on my bed and contemplating my future.

The good part about this thing is I am working in my own town. For a long time now, I was really worried about my parents living alone. They are in their 60s-70s and although I am more of a liability than an asset but just being here with them calms my mind. I’ll admit, it is sometimes a pain to live with your parents when you are an adult and have tasted freedom before but I would rather spend time with my mom than on random “social” things.


To Alok,

It was the second week of September when I came to know about your untimely demise. It was much more difficult to accept that you took your own life. I have only known you through our blogs and the little interaction we had over comments but you were always a positive influence in my life. It is hard to believe that you aren’t around anymore. I’ll miss your motivating comments. I’ll miss seeing the world through your blog. You were such an enthusiastic and motivated individual. I wish the world wasn’t too hard on you.

I don’t know how many times I’ve opened WordPress to write you a proper goodbye, but it is just too difficult. I can’t imagine what your family is going through right now.

Goodbye my friend. I hope you find peace wherever you are.


I am okay. And I may not be in a state to write about this right now but I am okay. Sometimes, the things that you have worked for almost a third of your lifetime don’t work out but still feel worth it. I know nothing makes sense right now but someday it will. Love, like many other things is about how hard you work to make it work. And it doesn’t always have to end in a good way, or end at all. You could be in love without being in a relationship or feel unloved in spite of having someone to hold on to.

Everything comes to an end in this mortal world. It hurts, but this is what grief does. It makes you feel alive and even when something doesn’t work out the way you always imagined it to be, it doesn’t mean you have to live with regrets.

You’ll be okay one day.


It has been almost six years since I’ve been writing here, on and off. There are times when some people (and by some I mean you Nomadosauras) dig up my old posts and comment on them. I have a pretty bad memory and sometimes I don’t even get the context of what people are commenting on. So, I go back and read my posts and it feels amazingly weird. I feel like I am reading someone else’s words. Sometimes it doesn’t even sound like my life. Sometimes it does but written from someone else’s perspective. Just so weird. I don’t know if I am able to put words to my feelings but it is just surreal.

And boy, have I grown in all these years!!! I was such a stupid girl. Well, I am still pretty weird and stupid but I am happy, in spite of the zillions of problems in my life.

Just the other day I was telling Vishnu that happiness to me is contentment. I don’t think I am content with life, not yet and probably not ever. And there are days, or even weeks when I cry my eyes out but generally, in a normal kinda way, I feel okay.

For several years, I have had this feeling that I wasn’t rich, intelligent, or pretty enough. Everything felt inadequate. I looked at friends, with jobs, with life partners, with money, property and a “life” while I had nothing. I have almost none of these things even now but I have stopped looking. Not to sound too “enlightened” I still have my “days-of-doubt” but my feelings are a little controlled. I feel blessed… with all “the little” I have.


2019 is going to be a great year. I don’t know how or why or what am I going to do then but I have this belief that it is gonna be AWESOME.

I want to believe this.

I have to believe this.

To quote John Green, I’ll be on a roller-coaster that only goes up my friend.


HAPPY NEW YEAR. IMG_20181224_162356

Hope Is A Good Thing

Someday we are going to have a good life.

The things we dreamed about will be right in front of our eyes, not in the form we want them to be but probably in a way we need them to be.

We are going to travel to places we haven’t seen, if not in first class then in economy but what matters is that we are going to be there together and isn’t that the point, to be with the ones we love.

We are going to fill our tummies with the yummiest food ever, probably not at a high end restaurant but at a road side dhaba and that’s better because a girl like me would probably embarrass you at a fancy place.

We are going to gift crazy, stupid, little things to each other, sometimes from a flea market or from festive online sales even if it means celebrating your birthday on valentines day and mine on our anniversary. It is perfectly okay as long as we find new days to celebrate our lives together.

We are going to fail and fight and stop talking a hundred times but we’ll be fine as long as we find our way back to each other.

And all these may sound like vague, hollow sentences from a cheap, cheesy novel to you but for us, I can be a total loser.

As long as we shall live, I want you to hope for a better day and a better life. Don’t give up just yet because these times will change and we’ll embark on a new journey, stronger, together.

As someone recently told me, hope is a good thing, may be the best of things and no good thing ever dies.

Have hope.


Have you wondered why a butterfly has such a complex life cycle? I mean it could have been just a simple process of tiny butterflies flying out of hatched eggs, but noooooo that is just too simple for Mother Nature.

First the eggs have to be hatched so that a larva comes out.

The resulting caterpillar has to eat and eat and eat and keep on eating till is becomes huge.

Now this caterpillar has to built a cacoon around it and do other complex stuff inside so that it builds up its limbs and wings and entire body,

And finally,


A butterfly comes out.

I am sure there is some evolutionary reason behind this tamasha but it could have been a lot easier. I mean there are around 40-45% insects which do not undergo complete metamorphosis to reproduce but look at these butterflies, they have to rub off their hard work on our faces, and all this work to reproduce. WHAT!

So, yesterday I was reading about this lady who went through dozens of failed IVF processes and several miscarriages in order to have a baby! Call me insensitive but I don’t understand this craze of organisms to produce a progeny! Now a butterfly is probably wired that way, but us humans, supposedly the most evolved animals on earth need to be a little thoughtful. I understand the human need to be parents but I don’t know how far one has to go to fulfil that. There are other ways to be parents in a world which is filled with children in need of love.

And don’t even get me started about the insane people in our country who take extreme measures to have a boy. One of my sister’s friends who already had a teenage daughter went through so many treatments in order to have a son and recently gave birth only after six and a half months of pregnancy. That baby doesn’t even weigh a single kilogram and if survives, is bound to live a difficult life. I do sympathise with them, but when I think about the inherent sexism in this entire situation, I don’t know, it hurts me a little.

Basically I started this post to talk about butterflies and post a few pictures I took today but somehow I ended up ranting about humans around me.

Hmmm…such is life!

Bangalore Rains, Bangalore Days…

I’ve had several special memories associated with rain and several of them have been in the city of Bangalore. The weather in the city was unpredictable. I remember my first day of school in Bangalore when it rained like cats and dogs and I was drenched from head to toe. I had not bought the school uniform yet, and was dressed in a light colored salwar kameez which soon turned translucent so I had to cover myself up with my dupatta. It was embarrassing, especially since it was my first day at a new school, in a completely alien city.

And then there was this time when I met an old friend after about four years. We walked around the city all day long and when it was time for me to head back to hostel, it started raining and we hugged under a bus stop near MG Road.

But the most memorable day for me was when me and my best friend went to a lake near our college. We always used to go there when either of us was sad. Sanky tank was around 3-4 km far from our college and one of those places where we would roam around, check out couples, laugh and cry about life in general. This one day, we went there and as always bought the charcoal roasted corn (bhuna bhutta) to eat as we walked around the lake. Suddenly everything went dark and it started raining heavily. We waited for an auto or a bus but the streets were almost deserted. Now my friend is kind of a chicken and she really worries about things a lot. I on the other hand try to act brave even if I am not. So we were walking in the heavy rain and I was laughing so hard over the situation, and she was cursing me non stop. I was still eating my bhutta in the rain, kind of enjoying everything while she was almost in tears.

I don’t know why this incident is so memorable to me, when clearly nothing great actually happened. I guess it is more about the kind of friendship we shared, two contrasting people, spending every day together. I can’t think of a moment I wasn’t with her in those four years of college.

Now that I think of it, even though I was never that social I always had a good friend at every phase of my life. I was never really alone. I have been lucky that way.

I really was…

I wonder how easily we forget the happier times but spend a lifetime thinking about everything that is wrong with our lives.

But then happiness is mostly counted in moments while grief in periods.

If only these good moments occurred more frequently, life would have been a little better…

Late Night Musings…

Sometimes I feel that the luckiest people in the world are those who get to sleep next to someone they love. Isn’t it such a warm feeling, to share a bed with someone you care about? To let someone be so close to you, and feel protected, like nothing could harm you as long as you lie besides this person.

I have always taunted my friends over the reasons they give me to get married ranging from society to biology but would you judge me if I tell you that the only reason I find worthy enough of this risk called marriage is to have someone to share these long, dark nights with. To have a person you want to see at the end of every day, to share all your sorrows and laughter with, to fight and make up, to have someone to wake you up when you are having a nightmare indeed sounds like a great prospect.

I guess we all need someone to feel a little less lonely… And for some of us that itself is a distant, utopian dream…