Guest Post: Suruchi Arora.

December 19, 2013 § 4 Comments

Dear Girl nursing a broken heart,
“Sometimes you just have to erase the messages, delete the numbers and move on. You don’t have to forget who that person was to you; only accept that he isn’t that person anymore.”
You know world over, genders alike, there is one disease that is slyly killing vulnerable souls even of the strongest of exteriors-heart breaks. The higher brains need to develop some vaccinations or immunity from heartaches instead of spending time, resources and intelligence on things like bacteria and atoms. Meh! The world is equipped to handle itself-we collapse miserably when it comes to managing the inner void, desires and unrequited love.
Everyone may smugly think they are above it-no sir, you are not and definitely not you ma’am. You mistake tumbling for love and you’ve just not fallen still how you should. We all are likely to get enslaved, with or without our knowledge or permission. The higher you fall in fantasy of someone, the lower you sink in depths of despair after having lost him or her. Love in the extremes is really what and how love should be and hence the most difficult to bear by your insides whichever side the see-saw dips. Even when at its brightest and most passionate, it burns you yet with restlessness!
It is not the moving-on part which is difficult-it is the fact that you keep turning back to see if there are any remnants of what you sowed or has the harvest been burnt beyond recognition. You can close your eyes to the things you don’t want to see but how does one close the heart to stop it from feeling what you don’t want to? Yes, it is that tough and you are not alone my pretty one in feeling thus.
It is sad when the people you know become the people you knew. It is not so impossible to comprehend the bafflement of how you spend hours with someone discussing life as though he was a fabric of it and suddenly he gets covered in a veil that you find difficult to pierce through or reach out to, however you squint your eyes and fuck your brains for it. With every deep breath you take to puff yourself up with courage, you know something inside always crumbles. You wait for him to realize what he gave up on and repent while the wait slowly withers you within.
Love is like that-sweetest when it is lifting you up and cruelest when it throws you with a thud. You wish he chokes on the words when he says “I love you” to another girl. What makes you most generous, can very well turn you most heartless-for it robs you of all emotions. And when someone leaves without a reason, it becomes a sore point and pull for life, a point of no return.
People say that the most painful thing in love is losing someone whom you loved; not really-the painful part begins when you realize that you lost yourself in the process. The ache culminates into anger, frustration, regret and hopelessness borne out of the doubt and that tormenting, looming question-why did you allow yourself and your happiness to be dependent on one person?
Love stories that do not wrap up in a “happily ever after” are the strongest. It is perhaps because they leave us with many ‘what-ifs’ that you turn and toss over despite being on the most comfortable of beds that life may offer. We crave to hear the truth…Was that the truth when you said you loved me as if there was no other human filling up the earth or is this the truth when you choose to look through me like I am unwanted or non-existent?
Girl, do you hear Beyonce play in the backdrop while I talk to you? “You are the only one I wish I could forget and the only one I love to not forgive. You’re everything I thought you never were and nothing like I thought you could have been….” Beyonce is a wise girl. Love can make or break, give or take, mourn and elate. Such an oxymoron!
So now that you are ruined, how do you help you? Talking does the trick-not to someone else per se but to yourself. The brain may be the smartest of all organs but silliest when it comes to being convinced and especially of an argument born in itself. Cry a river-build a bridge-get over it. Tears perhaps were watery by default for a reason-they cleanse as they drain. Don’t fight them, don’t resist the closure for therein might lie the key. Let him know how you feel now-for if he wanted to hear how you felt when he tingled your body with mere words, he ought to know how he makes it shudder too.
You have to remind yourself that he may continue to live in your heart but there was no way, he could have lived in your life. And until you are broken, you don’t know what you are made of. Collect the pieces and start as a whole again. Try not to remember half the things you will never forget.  The best way to ensure you don’t go treading back on his path again, is to erase the footprints you walked along with and uproot the milestones that lure you to digress again.
It is often seen that people jump into one relationship from another. It is not because they are fickle-it is the best way to nurse the wound of the organ which was meant to just pump blood but does everything unspecified instead. A new muse for the broken heart is as necessary as new strings for a guitar that loses its rhythm. It helps you to not keep running back to the one person you need to walk away from. 
So keep the mind alert and heart open to allow the one who suits your fancy again but be patient for comparisons would set in and it would be a while before you find someone interesting again. But then you will-that’s how we are conceptualized. You tend to find things that attract you and the things that attract you tend to somehow reach to you.
Also vomit the anger and pain on someone who is ready to take that shit from you-there always is. Be proud of every blow made at your heart for it left you with lessons that made you stronger and wiser for future. And remember you can never make the same mistake twice, the next time it will show a choice. You can never be “just good friends” with someone you loved once-the feelings fade with time or injury, but they never die if they truly lived when they did. So don’t look to be friends, accept the anonymity.
Realize that what is dead must be buried before it deforms to something ghastly. Realize that you can live without him-his first mistake was leaving you and then now, allowing you to bring to fruition that you can live without him. The very people who said they would never hurt you are the very those who take your heart to task. Guard yourself and your self respect. Don’t dismiss it in the name of pride-respect it in the name of your individuality. Anything that does not make us happy has no right to live even in the periphery of our existence.
It will hurt for a first few weeks, maybe even months but then life moves on, love learns to unlearn and heart aspires to mend and fend for itself again.
I know dear girl, it seems the end of the world for you fear you won’t find anyone this perfect again. His perfection was an illusion-a pedestal where YOU raised him to for nobody is perfect and that’s what he should become-a nobody. Learn to unlearn, grieve to rejoice, rise again to stamp down-chin up and smile to scare the doubts away and drag yourself out of the bottomless pit. There are many who deserve you in all your glory so gather it before you lose the sunshine.
And then keep the faith-Love does not hurt, lovers do.
Take care and heal fast,
Yours lovingly,
Been there, seen that.
About the Author:
Suruchi is the mistress of words. She does magic when she writes. Not only her wordplay is meaningful and deep, it is hair raising beautiful. The kind you can read over and over.
Go follow her blog here, and no need to thank me. Thank her. She’s the blessing. 🙂

Guest Post: Mark Miranda.

August 6, 2013 § 3 Comments


I was supposed to travel to Mangalore. I took a train and got down at the train station and was wondering what to do next. I needed to take a bus to my destination. I didn’t know the regional language. English didn’t work much and I didn’t know the route. I managed to ask directions and they didn’t understand me as much as I didn’t understand them.

I got a bus that appeared to be going in that direction. Got a seat near the driver. It was a parallel seat with place for 6 or more people. A kind lady offered me the seat next to her. There were 5 people sitting and it could accommodate me in.

I looked around and I was like a foreigner in my own native. The women and the men were staring at this guy who is sitting so lost here in the front. I tried telling the conductor the destination I needed to go and I shot 3 different names hoping that at least one would get me where I wanted to go. That seemed to confuse him more and it seemed that I was booking tickets for three different people going to three different destinations. I decided to settle with the name that appeared more familiar with him and I thought I would see what to do from there. The ticket clicked. I sat quietly for the remainder of the bus. Looked at Google Maps and got a fair idea I was moving in the right direction but I didn’t know the exact stop to get down. And the bus stops are too far as this was an express bus that stopped at limited stops. So, if i did get down at the wrong stop, it would mean a very long walk in a direction that i wasn’t quite sure and it could really get me lost. On top of it, the bus conductors have the habit of shouting out the destination and the major stops. So I used to jump up every time thinking my destination has come. But in fact, it was where the bus was supposed to go and the stop was supposedly to be 30 kms away.

Sat for another half an hour and decided to do what I do best. Observe. Talking with the conductor didn’t seem to make much headway as I didn’t speak Kannada and he didn’t understand Konkanni too well. The bus that I was travelling had two entrances. People kept pouring in from both ends and shouting out the place they wanted to go to. It was extremely confusing at first. A parallel seat facing the driver that seated 6 or more people. And then the normal seating arrangement of the first three rows reserved for ladies behind the driver. There was a massive engine with some parcels and boxes.

Normally, drivers accept the parcels to be delivered to a particular stop. The parcels are nicely wrapped in tape with the address sitting clearly on the top. And now there was just one box left on the engine. It was shapeless but I could read it.

My eyes gleamed suddenly as I realized the last part of the address was the exact stop where I had to get down. I read the top part. It was a printed slip. The first part of the address was to some shop. The building name below it seemed familiar. My eyes jumped out, it was the exact same building I was to go. What a stroke of luck. The conductor after some time picked up the parcel and I felt he was actually picking my hand to guide me the way.

He saw me eyeing the parcel and wondered what was going on in my head. He readied to give the parcel. The bus slowed. I shot out like a cat from the bag. I got down and right in front of me was the building I had to go to. Coincidence. Maybe.

My family was waiting for me. It was a reunion of sorts. I had not seen any of these uncles and aunts, their children ever. It was the first time that I would be meeting this set of relatives. And it was a joyous reunion of sorts. Later my mum tells me that it was a coincidence some relatives turned up as my mum herself was able to invite a limited set of relatives as she didn’t know the exact address of all of them and neither did she have all of their contact numbers. The one’s who came along were told by word of mouth by other relatives. And they had happened to be all together at the church after mass and the word spread and they all came home. They had been waiting for me and they hadn’t even started when I reached.

I didn’t know the language. I didn’t know the area. I didn’t know the way. I must have had an angel guiding me. And if it wasn’t for a plain old parcel with the exact same address of my destination maybe I would reached someplace else and be absolutely lost. This incident happened around eight years back roughly and I had my Nokia N 73 ME which wasn’t even a smart phone like the one’s we have these days. The distance traveled by me in that bus alone was more than 30 kms.

It turned out to be a tiring journey but a joyous reunion which was more unexpected as I didn’t know that we had invited so many relatives and their families. It lasted an entire week. And maybe, that is for some other day. I hope to write more and write soon.


Or was it more…

About Mark:

Mark is a wonderful person i know via Twitter. He writes amazingly well on his blog here. Go follow!

Guest Post: Ben Naga.

July 16, 2013 § 5 Comments


Alas, I bring no stardust home tonight.

The sky is overcast and all is maya,

For I confess I see no hope in sight;

Where once each daybreak promised fresh delight

We only found that time had proved a liar.

Alas, I bring no stardust home tonight.

These poor neglected coals cast little light,

So place another log upon the fire,

For I confess I see no hope in sight.

The wind is chill and bitter; hold me tight

And stoke the fire till the flames climb higher.

Alas, I bring no stardust home tonight.

Let’s not apportion blame or rue what might.

How can we but accept the trundling gyre?

For I confess I see no hope in sight.

In impasse let us yet remain polite;

Offer comfort, even as our dreams expire.

Alas, I bring no stardust home tonight,

For I confess I see no hope in sight.

About Ben:

Ben is a wonderful person and a great friend from WordPress. He is one of the earliest readers i have from here, and he has been more than a support system in terms of everything. No, i am not exaggerating. He has done a guest post before and i am more than glad to have him here again. You must read his blog here.


July 6, 2013 § 8 Comments

Each one of us lives
in our own deep dark hole.

There are those who jumped
into it, and there are those

who were thrown into it, and
some accidentally stumble into

it. Like i did.
There are those who see themselves

in a hole and don’t want to come
out of it. Aware, that there is a ladder

that’d bring us out. But we’re
afraid. Sometimes of the light outside,

and sometimes of the darkness
within our own poor, wretched souls.

But the truth is: There are no holes,
just illusions. Self inflicted pits in

our lives, which we prefer over our
sanity. Once we see them, there

are no holes anymore.
And we are whole again.

On women.

May 23, 2013 § 2 Comments

Women are ever ready to bestow their heart where sorrow cannot but be their lot. They will either string their garland of acceptance for some brute of a man who will trample it under foot and defile it in the mire of his passions; or dedicate it to some idealist, on whose neck it will get no holds, attenuated as he is, like the dream-stuff of his imaginings.

When left to do their own choosing, women invariably reject ordinary men like me, made up of gross and fine, who know woman to be just woman, that is to say, neither a doll of clay made to serve for our pastime, nor a transcendental melody to be evoked at our master touch. They reject us, because we have neither the forceful delusions of the flesh, nor the roseate illusions of fancy: we can neither break them on the wheel of our desire, nor melt them in the glow of our fervour to be cast in the mould of our ideal.

Because we know them only for what they are, they may be friendly, but cannot love us. We are their true refuge, for they can rely on our devotion; but our self dedication comes so easy that they forget it has a price. So the only reward we get is to be used for their purposes; perchance to win their respect.

~Broken Ties, Rabindranath Tagore.

Where Am I?

You are currently browsing entries tagged with Life at Rants..

%d bloggers like this: