“That feeling called home”

Hold on tight to that person who gives you the feeling of being at home. I got lucky and met someone just like that. I call him my best friend, someone I laugh with, show my tears to, well – you can say I am unguarded when he is around and that is my freedom. I do act beyond stupid all the time and he is crazy enough to appreciate that and love me more for all the madness. There are times when we get a little serious and talk about life and somehow he brings a funny twist to the conversation and I just wonder how he does that so easily. There are times I scream at him, am rude beyond belief and throw tantrums – he pauses for a second, looks at me, gives me a look… and cracks a joke or breaks into a dance – right in the middle of the road.

I can’t help but laugh.

I feel… God has his amazing ways. I know he is making up to me.

I know what you’re doing God. Thank you!!! When I was crying, I never asked you why. I knew it. I knew there was a reason. This is the reason…

V and I


A rehab would be nice.

We live in the age where humans crave the company of gadgets more than fellow humans. And what do they do with those gadgets? Connect with humans.
I don’t crave the ‘connection’ anymore, I don’t want to know what’s up with your life, I mean, if I really wanted to know – I’d ask you, not look into your profile. It’s just easy isn’t it…to peep in, see the latest pictures, check-ins, blah blah and just figure out what someone has been up to. But it’s mostly an assumption.
Do you post pictures of you when you are upset? Do your friends get to know when you are having a terrible day? Heck, they wouldn’t know if you are running a fever unless you post an update on Twitter or Facebook or an Instagram/Snapchat story hashtagged #Sick
I don’t blame anyone. We all are just so “busy”…and what are we busy with…
posting updates – App by App.
The stress of modern life – Poor WiFi.
How about holding the hand of that poor wife, for a change? :p
How about dressing up for love and not for the “OOTDs”
Eat food when it is served, it’s meant to be had hot, as the chef would appreciate. Imagine, someone working their ass off in the kitchen but you….you would not eat it and dare anybody pick up a portion before you take a picture of that delicacy, apply the necessary filter, post it on an app…or two, feel satisfied as if you made a point.

“I eat too.”
There are days when I binge-post. There are days when I delete WhatsApp, de-activate some apps from my phone and get back once I feel a little sane. And then it starts again.
I travel in the Delhi Metro very often. And trust me, all the necks are down, the thumbs are twiddling, the faces are deadpan – it looks scary and abnormal…as if I suddenly entered another planet where people don’t speak, don’t exchange smiles, don’t converse, don’t bother anymore. All they need is that phone like an oxygen mask – like a survival kit.
Have you noticed how cranky people get when the WiFi is down or when the phone charger is not around?
Have you noticed someone standing alone and trying to take selfies after selfies but not getting the right shot and feeling so agitated as if it’s the end of the world.
Have you noticed how people try to pose sexy and just look good in all the pictures, no trace of a genuine smile?
Do the number of “likes” or hearts on your latest profile picture affect your self-confidence?
Does the absence of a good morning message from your boyfriend make you feel he loves you any less?
Have you had issues because the person obviously read your message but did not reply? Thanks (or no thanks) to the blue ticks.
Do you realize how much this sucks? 🙂
A rehab would be nice.
A rehab would be really nice.

I love you, too.

Exchanging an I love you before hanging up the call is all good, but the ones that come mid-sentence while the other one is still talking are all heart. I love those. And I give those.

I believe, we must say it when we want to. Same goes for the hugs and kisses.

Express, just express yourself.





Most of the times when we get hurt, we shut off. No way will the world get to know I am hurt. Not because I am strong..but because I am so weak to accept that someone has the power to hurt me, to pinch me, to unintentionally or intentionally hurt my fragile, over sensitive heart.

I say – never give that power to someone. But then, we get close to people. Closer to a few… and closest to one. These are the ones who are most probable to meet that part of you that you hide so well from the world.

“Are you ok?”

“I am fine.”

These people would know you’re not fine. And I still don’t know if that’s a blessing.

For I am a little too arrogant to accept that anyone in the world has the power to hurt me. I am still closed, I am still not ready to accept that love is unconditional. I am still cynical. I am still protecting myself.

But afraid I am fuckin unsafe now.