Jab Mona Met Imtiaz

Sometimes I feel like I am the hero of an Imtiaz Ali movie, lost somewhere, waiting for the heroine to come and topple my life and help me find myself.

I am Viren in Socha Na Tha, confused about love, marriage and everything else in life, taking decisions and regretting them later.

I am Aditya in Jab We Met, waiting to hop on a train, leaving all my problems behind.

I am Jordan in Rockstar, waiting for that one heartbreak to make it big in life, hurting everyone I love in the process.

And finally I am Ved in Tamasha, an unwilling engineer, living a lie, and bored with my life, narrating the story of my life in a virtual space, finding solace in that.

I haven’t seen the new movie yet, but going by the reviews I am quite sure I would be Harry of Jab Harry Met Sejal. Even Shahrukh’s life has become quite like mine, giving one flop after another, not finding the right script, something that could do him justice. How much ever he wants to be young again, he can’t seem to accept the fact that it is not okay for him to romance actresses half his age in exactly the same way he did twenty years ago.

He needs to grow up, as much as I do.

And as for Imtiaz, as much as I like watching movies similar to my life, you really need to find a new story. Even I am bored of coming of age so many times.


*all images from google.

That Thing Called Marriage

This February when I got the news of my best friend from high school giving birth to a baby girl, I looked at the disheveled pile of notebooks lying on my chair, the cobwebs adorning the corners of my study table, the always-ready-to-fall-down clothes in my cupboard and asked my roommate, how is it possible that people my age are taking out an entire human being out of their bodies and taking care of it while I am barely able to take care of myself! When I asked a mutual friend of ours the same question she texted me this,

Mujhe lag rha hai logon ke bachche bhi ho gye, bas mai hi peeche reh gayi, meri shadi bhi nhi hui ab tak. Kab basaungi mai apna ghar?

I was perplexed by her thoughts. Was I the only one who thought we were too young? I mean we are just in the 24-26 age group, what’s the hurry? But apparently everyone is in a hurry as is evident by the constant wedding updates on my Facebook feed. It’s like everyone I know is getting married. That innocent girl from secondary school who never talked to anyone, the Punjabi sherni from high school, all my south Indian classmates from college, almost every day I wish someone on Facebook  to have a happy married life!!!  And then I go into this deep depression mode… yaar hum itne bade kab ho gye? Seriously, I can’t imagine myself getting married.

Falling in love – OK

Having a boyfriend – OK

Live-in – OK

But Shadi- Kaise yaar!!!

There is this thing in our community where as soon as the bride reaches her sasural, she has to dance or show how to play a dholak, or both. No one considers that she has come there after spending hours, even days in those torturous wedding rituals. Everyone is interested to see her dance or sing. Every time I think of marriage, this dancing scene comes into my mind.  She is going to be a wife, not a reality show contestant yaar!!!

Don’t get me wrong, I love weddings- new dresses, shoes, gifts, all the dhama-chaukari. One can actually see me teary eyed while watching those mushy wedding videos they make these days, and what can I say about the magnificent photography (simply wow)! It’s like if I could get married for a day, and then say goodbye to everyone, including the husband.


          A Kumaoni Bride…

I can be in a relationship (much better be single) all my life, but marriage frightens me. I am in love with this guy for five years, and yes we used to talk about marriage and all when we were teenagers (hence stupid), but right now, I just can’t imagine myself in that red bridal dress.

When a childhood friend of mine got married two years ago, I kept staring at her pictures with that big kumaoni nath on her nose and a mangalsutra on her neck, and I was like,

Oh My God!! Why is she wearing a nath? Isn’t that for old people? She is just a kid like me. How can she get married so early? And so on…

I couldn’t get out of the shock of her marriage. I guess this is somehow related to my fear of growing up. I think I was twelve when I came to know that girls have periods upon reaching puberty. From that time, every single day I was scared to be an “adult”. While I heard stories of it from my classmates, I secretly prayed for that “period monster” to never show up. Alas, it knocked on my doors (hehe) when I was fourteen. And me, being an idiot didn’t tell anyone, hid myself and kept crying.

Well, that was the first phase of the process of growing up, upon which I had no control of my own. It was a natural process and it happened. But getting married would be like, aa bail mujhe maar, and I have no intention of doing that. I can’t get married and grow up again, not so soon, and hopefully never.


Pic courtesy: here

About A Broken Friendship

Dear friend,

It’s been a long time since we talked, forget whatsapping , Google chat etc., I mean to say, really talked to each other. I don’t know what came between us. I don’t know if it were you or me who was really responsible for damaging the friendship we once had. Yes, I do blame myself for it all the time, but I am really not sure what made me stay away from you. Was it the fact that you were so much more intelligent, smart, pretty and successful than me, or was it because I just felt left out? You know how we were always together right from childhood, always equals, always closer than anyone in our class. How can we forget the days when we went to school together, to birthday parties, shopping, picnics, always hand in hand? Yes, that sounds so lesbian now, but well we didn’t know that word back then. It was you who would teach me maths, physics over phone and in that tea stall near bus stop, and it was me who would always score more marks than you. And one day when I left our beloved town, you gave me that farewell party at your place, one that I can never forget.  I cried everyday because I was lonely without you, and I cried because you were alone too. I still have all those letters you sent me. And I remember how happy I would be every time I got your letter. School ended and we both joined college, you in Delhi and me in Bangalore, you in one of the best institutes in the country and me, well just somewhere.

I was always happy for you. It was like you were living the dreams I had. I listened to the things you did, the events you attended, the fun you had and I enjoyed it. There was nothing I could tell you though, I had a normal life, hostel to college, college to hostel, there was no fun, but I really didn’t mind, until the day I really saw how different we had become. That was when we met after four long years. I don’t know what happened that day. Maybe I had many expectations from that meeting, maybe I always longed for a friend like you and was really excited to see you, but I didn’t feel it. There was just nothing. That was the moment when I think our friendship took a huge blow. And things changed after that. Our lives took different directions. You got into a relationship and obviously, I hated that guy. I was always so possessive about all those people I loved, you, my brother, my other friends. Trust me; my brother’s marriage troubled me a lot. I have a hard time sharing ‘my people’ with others. I have changed now, I guess losing you and a lot many friends I had, made me less sensitive. I am hardly attached to anyone now. That is a completely different issue I am facing right now; I have turned into a selfish, insensitive bitch.


Well, I miss you. I miss you when I have to bitch about our old classmates. I miss you when I have to cry about my shitty love life, I miss you when I visit home and realise that I don’t have a single friend there. I miss you but I don’t know why, I get so weak in the knees just by the thought of meeting you. I just don’t fit in your lifestyle anymore, or that’s what I think.

I wish I could just go back in time, where we were not screwed up adults but two kids walking down the street laughing about anything and everything, where our friendship was the only thing that mattered to us.

‘Cause everything is different now,

I’d really like to tell you how,

How I wanted you here by my side,

I know what I said but I lied,

It looked like I laughed but I cried,

But I wish I could push rewind.

Your old friend…


Image from here.

Growing Up….

Source: weheartit.com

Source: weheartit.com

Growing up,

I’ve learned to lie,

To cheat at times,

To ignore old friends,

And to compromise.

I’ve seen people leave,

Changed feelings,

Those intriguing eyes,

And broken dreams.

I’ve loved,

And lost,

And loved again.

I’ve lived alone,

Laughed and cried,

I’ve given up hope,

Only to give life,

Another try.

I’ve failed,

And risen again,

I’ve walked many miles,

Only to lost my way,

I’ve managed to smile,

At the end of a bad day.

I’ve been on this journey,

Since a long time,

Growing up,

I’ve lost a part of me,

A part that was innocent,

And carefree…