The Tortoise People

@googlefacts defines them as Philophobes (philophobia is the fear of emotional attachment that often leads to expectations that end in disappointment). 

But I like to give them a special name- The Tortoise People. The people that put their shells on every time someone comes near them. The ones that have a mental knee-jerk reaction everytime you try to connect with them emotionally. The ones that are emotionally unreachable. 

Not to be confused with the peeps that are emotionally awkward, popularly known to have the emotional IQ of a cockroach. 

No, no. These people are different- the Tortoise folk are jaded, cynical and scared.

I would know, I used to belong to the clan. And then I realised it don't work for me, no.

And I'll tell you why, but let me ask a couple of questions to begin with- Would you not eat something absolutely lip-smackingly delicious because you're too afraid you'll love it and then never be able to eat it again? Would you live like a poor person all your life because you're afraid that if you get rich, you'll lose it all? I'm assuming the answer is mostly no, so then why would you allow yourself to not love- a person, an idea or a dream?

We're going by the assumption that the Tortoise People are afraid to emotionally invest because they're afraid of the impending disappointment, brought on by expectation. But I ask you, what is life without an expectation? A dream? A hope? 

I constantly hope I will eat good food for lunch, wear beautiful clothes, or travel to all the sorts of new places. I expect it out of my life. And what would I be if I didn't? Soulless? Someone who didn't feel at all- the bad or the good?

Upon badgering a few close friends who are hard-core cynics, here's what I heard- "It helps you be prepared, for the bad stuff that will inevitably happen." But that's defeatist, isn't it? Like someone once said, life is what happens to you when you're busy preparing for it. So don't prep, just live. With mad, reckless abandon, full-heartedly.

Our lives are closely intertwined with so many people's lives and circumstances. Bad things do happen, and whether you like it or not, you will never be able to control it all. And it'll most likely happen in a way you didn't expect it to. Because you see, life is cheeky like that. It sneaks up on you, rubs its hands and grins with glee, and makes you face your very worst fears. 

So here's my attitude towards it- I will love everything. I will love every rainbow I see, every raindrop that falls on my nose, and every person who makes me smile silly. I will brave my tears with grace, my disappointments with hope and my heartbreaks with strength. Because at the end of it all, I want to have lived. I want to have loved. I want to have felt every emotion there is to feel. 

I don't just want to drift through my life, I want to experience it. 

What is this place we call home?

In the last nine months I've had 5/6 homes. 

1. My original home (the one I was living in before my life took that 360 degree spin) 
2. My friend's home in New York 
3. My parents home in Bangalore
4. My in-between guest house in Bombay 
5. My best friend's house in Bombay 
6. My new house in Bombay.

They say home is where your heart is. 

But that's kind of confusing, isn't it? My heart is here today and somewhere else (and maybe even with someone else) any other day. It's a fickle fellow, that one.

Some people really like the idea of not having a 'home'. They love moving houses, cities, countries; never being in one place for more than a few months. They thrive on the difference in scene. They call it 'exploration'.

It seems more like running away to me. 

Because if I wanted a change of scene I'd take a vacation. For a month, or six.

Then I'd want to come back to my home, my bed, my people, my pets. Things I call my own and people that call me their own.

There's something about belonging that's addictive and endearing :)

That Thin Line

SO, recently I've been wondering about that thin line. Yes, you'll know which one I'm talking about. We've all been there.

Here's how the story goes- Girl meets a super fun boy. Boy and girl hang out- a little bit in the beginning and A LOT, very soon after the beginning. If they're not hanging out, they're texting 24/7, emailing each other funny things they found online, exploring new places in town together, meeting each other's friends etc. Mad bonding ensues with crazed swapping of stories. And oh, the LAUGHS. Many, many laughs. 

In all of this, 

Girl is wondering if this has the potential to go somewhere (and being over-analytic as the female species is, she's putting things into a pros and cons tables, for 'perspective' you know?).

Boy has two thought bubbles- 1. Do I like her? 2. Should we bonk?

There are two possible outcomes. 

a) Girl and boy decide they enjoy each other's company a lot and that they would like to take it to the next level and get into a relationship 

b) Girl and boy decide they enjoy each other's company a lot, so they don't want to risk turning it into a relationship

Oh, and a third outcome- Girl/boy blurts out the truth about their feelings for the other and the other respectfully (with many awkward pauses) backs out and the whole situation is a muck.

So, you see there is that thin line between intersex bestfriend-ship. Because all that separates this platonic relationship from a full fledged relationship is a few whispers, a couple of confessions and kiss or two (that, or a drunken night with lots of 'mistake' sex).

Certainly is food for thought, no?

On the rocks.

"With my back towards the whole world, I sit hoping for some sanity. Facing my fears like a deep calm sea."

(In the words of new Bombay bestie, AC)

Nightly Rambles

Sell your soul
To only that which shakes it.

For there is no shame 
In bowing your head,
To that which mends the cracks in your spirit.

Nightly Rambles

I've always thought that my most poetic moments come to me when I'm just about to sleep. I usually think ok, nice, I'll write it out tomorrow (I know, lazy me- I bet my muse doesn't feel good about that), but inevitably the next morning, I always forget my profound thoughts.
Last night however, staring at my fan, unable to sleep, I whipped out my phone and decided to write out the four-liner poetic ramble in my head. Here you go. 


I let my pain wash over me.
It looks like a picture whose colors are fading.

For only after the rain in the middle of a sunny afternoon
Does the rainbow shine like the only star in the sky.

Bombay Blues

If someone had asked me if I thought my life would be so different (in every single aspect) 6 months ago, I would’ve laughed, called them dreamers and asked them to go write the script of a K series prime-time drama (sans the bahu and saas). Seriously, my life has felt very much like the complicated plot of a movie/ book over the last six months.

The best part of it? My salvation? It’s got to be my move to the big (bad?) world of Bombay. 

When I say Bombay Blues, I mean it in two ways-

1. Blues as in sad. Like Monday blues. Like it depresses me kinda blues.

Despite the population of 12.4 million, there are times when you feel so very alone, you can’t help but cringe. Every man and woman (and child!) is on a mission every single day. If you’re in their way, they’ll push and shove until you’re moved aside and out of the way. Life moves so quick here you don’t realise how Monday started and how you arrived at Friday. You live life from one taxi to another, from one train to another, from one morning to the other. Never stopping, never skipping a beat.

There are days when I realise that I don’t do anything other than work and commute. That I had zero  social contact with another human being. In those ten minutes between when my head hits the much-sought-for pillow and I actually fall asleep, I realise the impact of the lack of social contact and the sense of loss I feel for it.

And I feel slightly bad.

Just for those ten minutes.

When I wake up the next morning, it’s forgotten and I just get on with it.

     2.Blue- blue as in my favourite colour. As in the colour I associate with mad-happy-grinning. As in the mood that Bombay has me in most of the time.

I’ve always had some of my best memories in Bombay. With a boy I fancied, with crazy girlfriends, with cousins at weddings. But for some reason I didn’t want to live here. Not ‘now’ anyway. I thought if I actually lived here my illusion of Bombay being the city of dreams would be shattered. I kept making excuses- ‘No, no. It’s too hot.’  ‘It’s waaaaaaay too expensive, I’ll move only when I’m making mad-crazy money like the Khans do.’ (ha, dream on)

‘And life has a funny, funny way of helping you out,’ sings Alanis M, and I agree. When I was going through what maybe the most confused and lost time in my life ever, it sent me Bombay. And that too, to work at a super fun place and hang out with some of my most favourite people who live here. I think back now and I’m wondering why the hell I made excuses to not move here.

It’s like being in an amusement park/ circus. You have the crazy-fast-head-is-spinning ride that is everyday life, the freak shows and the clowns, the supremely good street food, the magicians (there’s so much jhol in this city, you can’t help but smile in wonder), the entertainers, the show-offs, the ridiculously good looking people...

And in the middle of it all, when you stand still for one minute, you realise you can be anonymous and still feel like you’re just a part of the madness as everything and everyone around you is. It’s a beautiful, smile-bringing, liberating, welcoming feeling.

In the three short weeks that I’ve been here, Bombay has me wrapped around its little finger. I’m dancing to its beats and I’ve discovered despite the heat, the dirt, the super fast pace, what was previously just a school-crush girl is turning into falling, spiralling helplessly in love affair!