It Was Always Him

I tried holding my breath – careful not to disturb his slumber. Both of us were extremely exhausted from all the day’s work. We weren’t the only two assigned to this project but in that moment, nobody else mattered. I knew about his insomnia, the very first thing I learned about him. For this guy to sleep soundly in my presence – shedding all the pretenses on the world made me feel… different.

He wasn’t the most beautiful creation of God neither was I in the most comfortable position to be lying down. This calmness running through me, while I studied his face, was enough to keep me quiet even through the physical discomfort I felt.

All of his features were elongated; tad longer than what the world is usually accustomed to. His carefully styled hair. Not a single strand of his hair was out of place and it was when he was asleep! The hairs otherwise reached below his eyes but right now were pushed back with a modern yet elegant style. The strained eyebrows resembling the highest mountains of this world. I had only met him a few times but it felt like those eyebrows were forever punished for some unknown wrongdoings. I had volunteered to massage his eyebrows – a trick I learnt back in college to impress boys but it worked wonders even on worried souls looking for an escape. After what seemed like an infinity did he let all the worries go and let all his facial muscles fall into their rightful place to rest. His long eyelashes belonged only on doctored photos of supermodels on cheap housewife’s selection for magazine covers. The perfectly straight long nose and half a face covered with well kempt beard and handlebar mustache made up the rest of face.

But what stood out the most were the scars. Small scars evident of a carefree childhood and reminders of happy memories. What happened to him? Did he lose all the reasons to be happy to become the man of controlled mind? I tried to guess what different childish activities may have given him these finer details that made his face… his. The one on the nose was definitely from a football accident. Small freckle-like spots on his cheeks spoke of an awkward teenage. The one, barely visible little fully healed gash on his right eyebrow – my favorite of all – demanded kisses and love. Before I could try to go more into the making of that scar, he opened his eyes in one swift movement.

Those eyes stared at me, right into my soul. I had never felt so naked before. I wasn’t ashamed of how I felt, I felt confident. This, sudden, unfamiliar, raw feeling was something I couldn’t place. As I tried to speak I saw him slipping into his usual guarded state. His impenetrable shield was up and nothing said henceforth would reach him. The true him. Had I lost the only possible chance of knowing the real him? His lips moved calculatedly knowing full well what they were about to say. His husky, earthy voice hit my ears and in that one word I heard the universe sing: “Amber.”

Excerpt from the Book I Will Never Write

I leave the room internally upset that getting some time alone with him may not be possible. I excuse myself to change into my night cloths. Travel sickness and the stress of living in a hotel has always been bad but the butterflies in my stomach made everything bearable.

Coming back to my own room, I quickly changed into my night clothes. I was so divided whether I should go into his room. Everyone from our team was sitting there planning for the big project. I wanted to stay in my room long enough for him to call me back there but the wait was excruciating. Even in my room I could hear everyone having a good time. I made my way back to his room.

All four pairs of eyes turned to me but three of those didn’t matter. I saw him sitting on the floor with his glass of whiskey, tousled hair. He held my gaze such tenderness all I wanted to do was rip his clothes off and make love to him.

The butterflies were almost preparing to fly with me in carriage when he said my name: Amber. The sexy raspy voice was the best suit for my name.

Letter to Beloved

Dear you,

I imagine writing to you in my old age, dying, finally confessing my feelings for you and you reading my letters and crying.

But that’s not happening because I’m just 22, in the best health and I’m fairly sure you don’t feel anything for me. However, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind and believe me I tried. My daily routine somehow finds a way to remind me of you and the advancement in technology made it easy to look at your photos online.

I see how frequently you change your photo and status on Whatsapp and I imagine (wrongly) that it’s for me. That maybe you want me to message you and talk to you. I know I am wrong in thinking so.

Just today I was talking to your best friend, I glanced at his watch and it reminded me of the playful banter you and I had over your watch. The nostalgia! It seems almost unreal that less than a month ago I had found myself lying beside you and feeling…naked. I was fully clothed but for those few moments I didn’t put up a charade. I was me, I felt more connected to me than ever. And I felt so connected to another person – you.

It was almost like a Zing! But maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just me.

I remember your level of ease with me. I remember you not saying anything knowing full well that laying beside you I did nothing but stare at your face. I remember you telling me you knew it even though your eyes were closed. I remember both of us disappointed to see the rest of our friends return to our room because it meant our time together alone had come to an end. I remember you mocking my fear for darkness but not once did you try to test whether I was lying!

Ah! The moment when you opened your eyes and looked at me, I didn’t feel ashamed to have been caught staring at you.

I remember tracing the lines on your rough hands. Somehow my soft hands belonged in your rough hands!

Oh darling, I miss it! I miss all of it. Please tell me it wasn’t one sided. Please tell me it wasn’t one of those times where I find myself as the one who felt more, saw more… loved more.

I cannot ever begin to describe how fondly I think about the three days I got to be with you, work with you.

I wish I wasn’t writing this letter to be never sent. I wish we were discussing those days holding hands – fingers interlaced.

I wish we were still talking.

Maybe one day I will move on, but that day isn’t today.

Till I find my happiness again,

Me.

500 Words for Update

Hello,

I have not been able to update my blog since a very long time. To update you and keep an entry for myself, my life has been… just like it was. I started learning French again. I must say I am proud of myself to have done over 20 French exercises!

My YouTube has been slower than ever. The main reason I chose YouTube almost a year ago was because I needed an escape. Life lately has been like pushing a car with flat tire uphill – A lot of hard work and very little regard. But then again it is MY car and I must push it. After trying to be sweet and stuff on my YouTube channel which no one watches, I as now use it as a vent. I will cry about everything that annoys me and everything that is wrong. I’m sure this is a good idea. Once I get all the excuses out of me, I may be more focused on things that will make me better.

The June wedding was absolutely fabulous and I looked pretty. The bride obviously looked pretty. The ceremonies carried on until 4AM in the morning. It rained. A LOT. It’s as if the Gods were too excited for my cousin’s wedding. I hope you guys are equally happy in my wedding. Although I want a beach wedding or a wedding in Haridwar but that’s a story for another day.

Me at the wedding

I still look at the skies and make up all kinds of stories about clouds, sun and everything. I’m not sure how to really put the feeling in words. I feel very small and very big at the same time.

Onto what I’m planning for the rest of the year. I’m preparing for GMAT. I’ve made up my mind to get into a badass school, get a badass job, travel the badass world. That and I’ll maybe make another video and vent out about everything in life.

Wow writing after such a long time is very difficult. I’m rusty! I guess I’ll let it be less that 500 words and maybe writng again tomorrow completing all 500 words.

So, adios amigo!

500 Words for a Wedding

A June wedding. That’s what has been decided so far. She is the happiest she can ever be. After all, Indian girls live for this day. For their new lives to begin with freedom. With love. She remembers her sister’s wedding. It was almost as if she could feel her sister breathing in her.

In less than two months, her parents will give her away in marriage to a groom better than the one of her dreams. She didn’t know so many butterflies lived in her stomach. Were they little caterpillars asleep in their cocoon waiting to come out as beautiful butterflies and take over her stomach on this day? She felt so light. Almost as if if the butterflies fluttered their wings with a little more force she may fly away with them.

Oh! The preparations! She has been to so many different stores but didn’t find a single wedding dress of perfection. Partially because she couldn’t get enough of her fiancée. They are always on phone. Their parents had arranged them to be married. An arrangement that turned to blind love for each other in a matter of a phone call. Yes, they have never met each other. They trusted and respected their parents’ decision to go with the flow.

Modern technology has helped them change the arranged marriage to one of love. Constantly exchanging pictures and messages. Pictures not only of them but also of their house after the wedding. Their home. The groom lives far away from his parents because of his work and his parents didn’t want to leave their home town. She will live with him. It is an exciting match that both of them have similar dream of their home. She thanked the Gods every minute for giving her the man who understood her like no one could till now. Not ever her parents. Some things are better understood by your partner, after all.

The wedding dress was still to be decided but she has begun shopping for her regular clothes for the days after the wedding. A sari? No. It’s very difficult to walk around in a sari all day. Okay maybe one or two saris. She doesn’t want to wear denims in the initial days. She has all her life to wear those. A few salwar kameez. Many, actually. A few sun dress. A few “fun” dresses too for the nights of togetherness.

I am next in line to be married. I can feel her emotions reflecting on me. As a pact from childhood, her sister, she and I had efficiently decided who will be whose Maid of Honor. She was her sister’s, I will be hers and mine will be her sister. We quite haven’t talked about if we will follow the pact or let her enjoy the days with her sister. The last of her before she is a missus to someone. I don’t think I will have any other choice but to step down because I am always busy with my work 100 miles away from her. Although a few hours trip, it’s hard to find that time easily. A June wedding. And then next me. 

500 Words for March

“What if I fall? Oh, but my darling, what if you fly?”

― Erin Hanson

Yes, that quote is not Freud. After a very long time I have sat down to write something from my mind. Write my feelings. Although not many people read my blog, I feel guilty for not carrying a good habit forward.

A lot is going on in my life right now and I think it is time to share it on my blog! Ha ha. No, I didn’t win a lottery or became a star overnight. These are just some little achievements which I am proud of. As mentioned in my earlier blog, I rarely keep up with a new habit. I have a really small attention span and that’s why I end up quitting 90% of the things that I start. However, since this year, particularly March, I feel I have tried to really get my life together.

A friend suggested to me to change my background since a dull beige wall isn’t the best attraction for a YouTube channel that is trying to grow. I did something I have been planning since last 3-4 years. I made a photo collage. Earlier in the day, when we were kids, people had real cameras with camera real and the photos we developed from negatives. One didn’t know if the photo was good and bad and everyone had to wait over a week to get the photos back. I have a giant cardboard box with photos after photos as packed as sardine. Oh the memories. A lot of things changed this March and I’m just glad all are for the better.

1. Mum sold my bed off and she still hasn’t decided on a new bed
2. I made a photo collage wall decoration
3. Another decoration with fairy lights
4. Posted videos on my YouTube channel almost every week
5. Fixed my belly chain which had been broken since October 2013
6. Crossed my monthly view goal on YouTube
7. Got my laptop fixed MYSELF

That is my photo collage wall décor.

For a person who never completes anything, I think I have come a long way by achieving many thing out of which only 2 were on my list. April now feels promising. I have already started to wake up earlier than usual. Haven’t had junk food in a week. I’m trying to shed my belly fat till June because my cousin is getting married in June and I’ll be one of the bridesmaid. I need to restart jogging as well. The next thing on my list for today!

Really, getting off of the couch and DOING things is not as hard which you get in the flow. But getting in the flow gives you the most terrible feelings ever. It’s out of your comfort zone, now that you are working, chances of failing are as much as being successful but the end goal still stands there. Being. Successful.

I think I am getting a hold of the whole adulthood phase and boy is it a roller-coaster! And there is one more thing that is keeping me going forward. I don’t feel the “quarter life crisis” as frequently as I used to. I’m 22 and I’m finally catching up to what I should by as a 22 year old woman.

“It's surprising how so many people forget that once you've hit rock bottom, the only way is up”

P.S. I have many motivational quotes, comment blow and I may choose the best 50 to post here. They really help.

500 Words for Quitting

I have an interesting life. I just see it from a boring perspective.

--Arunima Sangwan

With that quote I have managed to successfully describe everyone’s life ever. Especially my own.

This is my 10^th try since the morning to write something… anything.  I had a start for each topic but I could never conclude any of the blogs. Why do people say the first step is always the hardest? I have finally decided on a topic and I was amazed how many things I did try. This is not boring. Boring doesn’t make you nostalgic.

Most of the people I’ve met in my life have not been afraid of starting anything new. They just weren’t sure how to take the second, third or fifth step. What I’m trying to say is beginning isn’t always the worst; it is continuing doing it that scares people. Today I’m just going to list the things I started but never continued:

1.Jogging 

(Started: March 31^st, 2015; Ended: Sometime in September)

The biggest regret I have is not continuing this habit. I got pretty good with it by my standards. When I started I couldn’t run for more than 10 seconds. Yes! 10 seconds! Had a thief snatched my bag back then and I had to run behind him, I’d be thinking of the color of my next bag.

I had to stop because my jog trail isn’t cemented and it used to rain… a lot. I used to run 4km/2.5mi without stopping.

2. Daily Vlogs 

(Started: January 1^st, 2016; Ended: January 8^th, 2016)

Eight days! Just. Eight. Days. I uploaded the videos on my YouTube channel which, by the way, you can visit by clicking here. I still make videos on that channel but the vlogs are now private. I really liked the first 4 days of vlogs I had uploaded but I was so ashamed of not being able to continue it, I made them private.

3. Daily Journal 

(Started: A thousand times throughout my life; Ended: A thousand times throughout my life)

My mother writes in her journal fairly regularly. She’s had this habit for the last 20+ years. I’ve always been inspired by her and wanted to write about my life and people around me. I still want to write a real journal and not just write on the last pages of my notebooks.

4. Playing Guitar 

(Started: January 18^th, 2013; Ended: August 15^th, 2013)

This is one of the longest standing habits I had. My best friend bought a guitar so that we could learn together. We played guitar on an Independence Day function in the college. I played guitar every day between Jan 18 and Aug 15. I did pick up my guitar a couple of times after that but I had gotten so bad I just couldn’t inflict the pain of hearing me play on my family. I wish to play again someday.

5.Learn Urdu/French/Spanish/Italian/Marathi

(Started: Don’t even ask; Ended: More times than I started)

I love languages! You learn a lot about world when you learn languages. Especially the similarities of words in different languages. Someday, I will start this journey of learning another language again and not quit.

The worst part about writing is you are full of ideas when you are away from anything you can scribble on but as soon as you pick up a notebook, everything seems to mix up. It’s like all the colors spiraling into just one big white.