Blues.

April 13th meant nothing to me. EVEN though my boards got over *indifferent shrug*. I still have to crack the big C-L-A-T, to decide which college Im going to ..
And once the I finish these entrances on the 20th of May, Im gonna be greeted by the ever so awaited (NOT ) board results.. So basically, Ive not been able to have REAL fun since the 1st of February because of the constant pressure of doing well. Well, not parental pressure, just my own What-if-i-fail pressure. Dum dee dah.
However, JUNE is one month im waiting desperately for. Im not entering my room unless its for sleeping or getting ready. Parties,movies, FOOD, and RISHIKESH bitches :D
SO its kind of crazy how EVERYONE packed their bags and rushed off to Goa as soon as they got over with their exams. So jealous -.- And now my news feed is spammed with pictures of the beach and all those people. And Im literally like, they know him? She knows her? They met in Goa? EVERYONE MET IN GOA? *sigh*
I wouldve gone too (sly smile) but then I kind of care about my college a bit more, since I REALLY NEED TO GET OUT OF DELHI NOW.
Gaah, I never realised how much I'd face this year. From exams, to college, to friends. EVERYTHING slapped me accross my face all together, oww. Give a girl a break please. Ive just been rushing to my law classes, cramming up stuff for my exams yet again, having serious talks with my Math and General Knowledge book as to how they shouldnt give me such a tough time and just accept me as I am. But OH NO, they HAVE to make me struggle dont they? i though i was done with math back in class 10th, but it came running after me -.-
Anyway, I should go get back to my books. I'd be back hopefully. Till then, everybody shout out.. LAWYERED B) kay bye.

My Bucket List

My best friend and I had made a pact to share each other's Bucket Lists, or in other words, " Things to do before I die" list. We promised to complete one before college and even though it took me a long long time to jot down the points right from my head, here it is :D ( In no particualr order)

• Make a change in the world and help people/animals by becoming a successful lawyer
• Eat every flavour of ice cream ever invented
• Get someone to write a song for me and actually mean it
• Build a home for the tortured and wandering stray animals
• Live in Paris
• Re-buy my granparent's old house for them
• Travel to Venice, Rome, Hawaii and Australia all in one year
• Spend a night in a haunted mansion
• Own enough money to improve the living conditions of my country people
• LEARN A ROUTINE FROM STEP UP
• Own a beach house
• Change people's lives. A good change.

Yeah so I think I missed out on a lot but Ill add on as soon as I remember.

Daddy's Not So Little Girl. (3)

Please read Part 2 here http://surabhix.blogspot.in/2012/04/daddys-not-so-little-girl-2.html#links before continuinggg :)

She clutched his hand and sobbed, wanting him to hug her, to make her sit on his lap just like he did when she was a little girl. She bawled and screamed, shaking him awake. " You were always so busy turning your little baby into a woman, but look what youve done, youve turned a woman back into a baby", whispered Lydia. Her tears ran dry as she lay against him, whispering her forgiveness for all those times she'd cursed him unknowingly for having taken away her beauty. She thanked him for being her friend, her guide, her first love and her idol. "There's no one like you Daddy, said Lydia as she slowly got and up and reached for the door.

The doctor asked her to go home and come back later. She drove calmly, her eyes blurred. As she reached home, she went straight to her father's room, basking in the comfort zone of the two people who had left her to be on her own.. an orphan. She curled up on the bed, wanting to hibernate, to go far away when her hand brushed against something under a pillow. She lifted the pillow and found an envelope addressed to her. Her hands shaking she tore it open and pulled out a letter. It read :

My dear Lydia,

Its been a while since Ive called you that. I was the one who chose your name when you were born and your mother readily agreed. It means Sunshine and you were our very own. When you came into this world, my life was forever changed. I became a home dad, wanting to hold you close and breath in your warm milky breath as you tumbled and rolled all over me, giggling and showing off your beautiful little smile. As you grew into a beautiful damsel, I got scared. Scared that one day, this daddy's little girl would become someone else's and i might lose my title of being your first love. But then your mother died and the whole world shut around me. I felt caged and helpless. My only support left me alone to look after you, to educate you and send you away on a white horse. She entrusted you to me, and I failed. I became sad and lonely and resorted to drinking and drugs. I knew I wasnt doing the right thing, but I lost all control. I hit you, and made you cry. Something so unforgivable that I will curse myself long after I leave this world. Last week, I went to the doctor, he told me I had destroyed my health and one day i might not wake up. So I decided to write this. I hope one day, you'll forgive me. I want you to know that I love you. I never wanted to see you sad. Your old dad apologises to his little girl.

Be safe. Show the world that you are strong, because that's what you really are. You're a miracle.

Love

Papa.

Lydia broke into tears....

The End.

If most of you were expecting something else, Im sorry to disappoint. While writing this, I constantly kept my own parents in my mind. Our arguements and our playful fights and all this while I couldnt help thinking how impossible life would be without our own parents.

The joys of parents are a secret and so are their griefs and fears ; they cannot utter the one and nor will they utter the other.

Daddy's Not So Little Girl. (2)

Please read Part One http://surabhix.blogspot.in/2012/04/daddys-not-so-little-girl.html#links if you havent read it as yet :)

Lydia woke up to the sound of the lawn mower, squinting at the window as the sunlight poured into her spacious bedroom. As she yawned, she heard her name with a loud grunt. She wondered why her father was calling her at this time of the day. He usually left her to herself till he got back from the tea house that they owned. She pulled on her robe and flew down the stairs hoping that he hadn't found out about her being out last night. Timidly, she peeped into the garden and screamed.

George, her father, was lying on his back, a stream of blood pouring out of his nose. She rushed towards him and shook him fiercely. She yelled for help but no one seemed to hear her. Her neighbours were long gone to the farms and Mrs.Turnhouse was off to her sister's place in NewEngland. " Wake up Papa, please wake up", cried Lydia. She felt helpless till she remembered someone at the bar mentioning a new hospital that had been inaugurated last week. It was 13 kilometres from her home. Leaving her father to the hands of God, she ran inside the house to get the car keys and some money.

10 minutes later, she was struggling to lift him into the car. Her once slim and fit father, was now as heavy as 10 bags of stones. Sweat poured down her face along with tears of helplessness. She murmured consoling words to herself, her father would be okay obviously, he must have fainted due to the heat. She drove furiously, almost rashly, knowing that every minute, every second could kill or save her father. As she reached the hospital, she yelled for someone to help her lift her father out of the car. Nurses rushed towards the car and Lydia ran alongside till the reached the intensive care units.

Overcome with stress, Lydia broke down as doctors rushed in and out of the room. She tried to understand their conversation as they spoke to the nurses but the sound was blurred by the fear of losing her father. She prayed hard, wishing that she had her mother with her at this moment, enveloping her in her arms and whispering calm words against her hair.

She sat in the waiting room, numb and lifeless.. Drug overdose and kidney failure, the doctors had said.

The nurses brought her tea and biscuits, they asked her if she wanted to see her father. Lydia didn't respond, she looked at them and down at the floor again. Her whole world had come to a standstill. Her head throbbed, the tears were long gone. She was a mixture of emotions but none showed on her scarred face. She slowly got up, indicating that she was ready to meet her dead father. To say goodbye. One of the nurses guided her towards the room where her lifeless father lay, as if he were sleeping and was oblivious of what was happening around him. She dragged her feet till the hospital bed, taking in the unwanted aroma of the million medicines and chemicals.

She sat down at the edge of the white linen bed, staring at her father's face till tears finally escaped her eyes.

To be continued..

Daddy's Not So Little Girl.

2 a.m- She walked hurriedly towards the bus stop, hoping that she'd be lucky enough to reach home before her father woke up. She didn't want another night of bruises. Every time she snuck out of her home, an air of freedom surrounded her. Ironically, she felt comforted being amongst strangers, cheerful to talk to random people who took interest in her. Lydia wasn't weak, she wasn't afraid of her father either, she just wanted to protect him. She was worried about someone seeing her bleeding face and reporting to the police. She loved her father, of course she did. They had been best friends since her mother had died 12 years back. But then.. he fell prey to the evils of alcohol and drugs. He came home reeking of the cheapest drinks, almost as if he'd bathed in them. She wished he'd settle down with their widow neighbour, Mrs. Turnstone. She'd always been a mother figure to Lydia and as the rumours stated, her father and Mrs.Turnstone had been lovers long before her parents got married.

She knew that her neighbour heard her cries of anguish. The agony she went through every time her father threw her across the floor for being too late. The sores on her legs and arms and the deep cuts on her face that slowly changed colours from red to blue to black. She tried to muffle her pain as well as she could but sometimes they came outas sobs, which made her father give her a dirty look and walk out of the room.

2 30 am- Lydia carefully latched the door behind her and crept up the creaking staircase of her 2 storey house. She could hear the loud snores coming from her father's room as she walked up. She heaved a sigh of relief as she shut her bedroom door. Relief at not being tortured by her father for the first time in 3 weeks. She went to the dressing area and carefully examined her face. Tears of dread poured down her once radiant face. The cherry red cheeks were now a dirty shade of blue, her lips were swollen, and her eyes looked sad and helpless. How she wished that the girl who was once the most sought after in the village, would find someone who looked beyond her cuts and bruises . She wanted to escape, but she was stuck in an ugly position.. of leaving her father behind, afraid that he might succumb to the diseases caused by his cohesive alcoholism.

To be continued..

First newspaper article :D Hindustan Times,2011.

While casteism , corruption and lack of civic sense constitute some of the evils in our society, I think the one evil that stands out is the status of women in India. Despite the fact that the right to work and education has increasingly been in the favour of women, ever prevalent instances of dowry killings and rape continue to make headlines.

Inspite of modernisation and the increasing role of women in all walks of life, instances of domestic violence have risen manifold over the years. Ironically ‘Lakshmi’ is killed for want of dowry. Sacrificed on the alter of honour and forced into sati. Rape, sexual harassment at work and the spurt in number of honour killings show that the ten headed demon still continues to suffocate and stifle the lives of women. How are women, teenage girls or even small girls supposed to live in a society considering the ever prevalent feeling of insecurity in their minds?

SOMETHING THAT LOOKS BETTER WILL SELL BETTER

The hit Gossip Girls series star, Blair Waldorf, quoted ‘’whoever said money can’t buy happiness, doesn’t know where to shop’’. And to the million shopaholics in the world, she became an idol of worship. And whoever said something that looks better will sell better, is correct in every aspect. Who doesn’t drool and immediately fish out their credit cards with more or less no guilt of spending their own or parent’s hard earned money on a pair of shiny Jimmy Choos, A Cartier watch, or an expensive Gucci one piece. Non branded items bought from the roadside carrying fake brand names don’t go unnoticed either. If they’re in fashion they’re in your wardrobe, as simple as 123. People these days hardly look for quality. Mainly because dresses aren’t meant to be repeated and shoes aren’t meant to be worn again once they’ve been seen in public.

Fashion knows not of comfort. All that matters is the face you show to the world. Imagine walking through a street with names like Stella McCartney, Dior, and Ferragamo .Looking at mannequins covered with cashmere sweaters, scarves, LBDs and long pointy heels. Who wouldn’t sacrifice swiping their credit cards through the machines, only to own the best looking attires in town? Of course, only international brands do not attract the public’s eye. Fab India, Cottons and other Indian brands, too, have become a rage in the shopper’s world.

Neatly stitched dresses and perfectly fitting jeans, glossy shoes and attractive shirts, the adjectives are good enough to magnetize the million shoppers. Manufacturers are fully aware of the needs of a customer and make sure their produce is eye catching and irresistible. Human psychology is such that, someone who looks at a conspicuous product is bound to purchase it, not bothering about the purchase. And the benefiters are not only the customers but also the retailers who are able to earn big bucks by wooing customers simply by displaying dazzling designs. Budding fashion designers these days not only display bouts of passion in their work but also hint their monetary demands. Being a shopaholic myself, I know what kind of things catches a customer’s eye. One would undoubtedly choose something that is exquisite and fashionable in every aspect over something that causes a customer to think twice about buying it.

Moving away from retail therapy, gastronomy is the other area where the look of the product matters majorly. The advertisements of McDonald’s or Pizza Hut, Gelato or Hagen Daasz instantaneously catch the customer’s eye. They are all drool worthy and hence become credit worthy. No, the chain owners are not foolish to only focus on the look of their products. Customer satisfaction is their first and foremost priority and they make sure that the taste compliments the look of their product. Advertising is the science of arresting the human intelligence long enough to get money from it.

Apple owner Steve Jobs quoted,”you can't just ask customers what they want and then try to give that to them. By the time you get it built, they'll want something new. ‘’ Apple was declared a hit among all genres of people. With a sleek body and incredible features, it immediately attracted millions of those who are now proud Mac owners. Valuable products like laptops are not bought just by looking at its advertisements, but once tested; days and weeks are spent by customers to choose the correct and best design of the product. Maintaining the status quo is of great importance in the 21^st century. Even if you can’t afford a product, you put in your heart and soul to shell out cash to compete with your next door Richie Rich neighbour who can’t stop talking about her endless trips overseas and the number of Prada shoes and bags she owns. An immediate adrenaline rushes through your veins, wanting to show that woman your worth. Credit card safely tucked in your wallet and the new slippers slipped into the freshly manicured feet of yours, you make that much needed shopping trip. Trial rooms stay empty as you swipe your cards after entering a store for barely 3 minutes and choosing the outfits that look the best. And the result is a happy you, happy salesmen, and a red-faced neighbour. Bliss, isn’t it? What more would a retail owner want than bundles of cash trying to push their way through the lockers , just because someone bought clothes worth 50,000 without even bothering to try them own or think twice about whether it would look good or not?

Fashion shows are a key tool to make designers collections accessible to its customer. Extravagant and expensive shows showcasing artistic and creative designs easily attract a lot consumer attention, whether the consumers view it live or on television. Looks are temporary and don’t mirror what’s inside and it is amazing how complete is the delusion that beauty is goodness. As fashion comes and goes, and style remains of constant importance, it is very clear that something that looks better: read, in fashion: will sell better, undoubtedly.

Fashion is what you adopt when you don’t know who you are. And when people refuse to believe in their own sense of style, they follow the fashion news like hungry dogs hoping to fit in. THAT’S when the whole troop of elegant people walk through the fashion streets hoping to look good and buy something that looks good, calling to fame, the treasurer of the fashion industry J

Smile your way through..

It's not easy.

Smiling when you're close to tears? The mask of happiness you cover your face with when you just want to curl under the blankets of hibernation. Laughing along with people, even though youre secretly irritated about how everyone is so happy?

Here's to all those:

• Who're heart broken, yet spend nights consoling their best friends
• Who're failing miserably in a particular subject, yet are at their friend's doorstep to help him/her overcome their failures
• Who're stuck amidst family issues and constant inter-parent fights, but manage to give "happy family" advices to those who show their sadness
• Who've been used roughly, treated like a puppet and thrown away, but have managed to pick themselves up
• Single moms and the single dads and their heartbreaking sacrifice for their children.

Breaking down is easy.. The tough part is holding yourself together when the easy part is not an option at all.

Mount Abu, 2011

Mount Abu, 2011.- I love sunsets. They’re beautiful, and so peaceful. But that’s not the only reason why I love them. They’re a treat to the eyes of city people like me, who need to go to the mountains or a beach to watch the stunning colours of the amalgamation of the sun and the sky.
Also, sunsets are a metaphor of hope. The rapid change of day and night offers hope to millions of hopeless people. Like after every hurricane comes a rainbow , after every sunset, comes a new day. The sun sets, taking with it, all the unwanted moments of the day, hinting us to start again

=)

People ask me what is happiness. I tell them, it’s a million things. And you? Youre the centre of it . Youre ecstasy, without whom I cant imagine life. Youre the power that pulls either side of my lips into a huge smile. Youre the force that makes me entire body shake with laughter when Im all low and depressed. That’s only the visible happiness. youre much more than that. You put my mind at ease. You make it stop thinking to much and act on something I should. You make my heart beat 18 to the dozen, making it moan. You give me a different kind of feeling in the stomach. A feeling of being complete and safe.

YOU define happiness.

One.

They sat under the moonlight
At the edge of the sea
Their fingers entwined
Giving them momentous glee

Her smile so contagious
Almost over shone the moon
Oblivious of the world
They know it’ll be over soon

He whispers into her ears
Words of love
She shows no sign of tears
her lips curve upwards

They weave memories
To be stored in their hearts
It’ll be long now
Its time to stay apart

His face looks calm
Inside he’s dying
He looks into her eyes
she’s no longer afraid of crying

They make promises
Of love faith and trust
Promises to never forget
Moments of passion and lust

He holds her close
Unable to let go
Of the girl he’s always loved
Inside out and from head to toe

She clings to him
Murmuring calming words
Hesitates to look at him
Everything seems blurred

What is love she asks
He smiles softly and turns
You , he whispers
When will you ever learn ?

She bursts into peals of laughter
As he ruffles her flowing hair
the next moment
He’s kissing away her tears with care

Shoulder to shoulder
They lay on the sand
Looking up at the moon
Watching it tease the land

They talk of times
Of each stolen kiss
The days when it got too hard
Or when all they felt was pure bliss

She reminds him of moments
Which he refuses to accept
They laugh together
Rolling in the depth

Its time to go she says
Not yet, not now
he feels his heart sinking
I need to make a vow

I promise to love you forever
He holds her hand and says
Everyday every minute
In every single way

She looks down shyly
Blushes with joy
Promising and vowing
To always love that boy

They part ways that night
Dreading the wake of the sun
No more closeness
Yet they’ll always be one

Helping Hands

” When you choose to forgive those who hurt you, you take away their power”…

It’s funny how a certain status can stir up emotions of so many people. Just day before yesterday, i had updated my Facebook status to the above quote at 3 am. It was pretty surprising when it got about 30 likes withing 2 minutes of the update. At first I was glad that I wasnt the only one wasting my time on Facebook at 3 am in the morning. But then I got to thinking about how SO many people actually relate to how I feel.

There are times when the gloom in our lives makes us say ” You’d never know how Im feeling” but the reality is that, A LOT of people do. Maybe because they are victims of the similar hurtful actions and words of others. I took up the courage to ask a random person why he had liked my status? Was it because he thought it was true or because he had actually faced something similar. He immediately opened up to me and said, BOTH, because one can’t actually understand the depth of that quote without having faced such a situation in life. I thought about the truth behind his words.. realising that he was actually right.

What I really learnt? Everybody has problems in their life. No problem is bigger than the other. Someone might just genuinely want to help you out, and snubbing him/her by saying ” YOU wont understand ” may just ruin it for you because that person may have faced a lot more and might have a million solutions to help you =)

Sometimes, I wish people would love me by accepting my flaws. I try so hard to be perfect, but then I realise, I wasn’t made perfect for a reason. No one is. You aren’t perfect either. I try to be the perfect one for you and I know I’ve failed but then, maybe because I can’t be like that. Even if I try, what’s the point of me not liking myself, just so that you’d like me? It’s just gonna stop me, from being ME, in front of you. Conciousness is going to grip me everytime you look at me. I’d keep thinking you’re expecting things from me, and my heart would just sink, because, theree… I failed again. You might start liking me a little less because I’m not the kind of person you wanted in your life maybe because I lack that particular trait you want. But I DO try, I give everything I can. Why , then, am I constantly thought about in that particular way. Why am I complained against. Why do you expect and then feel guilty for doing so…but still expect. It hurts, it hurts tremendously when you don’t tell me, but tell others. It hurts when you can’t accept me the way I am, but want me to accept you, flaws and all that. It hurts when I’m constantly your taunt target , when your comments are like an arrow, stuck in my heart, making it bleed profusely. When one single comment of yours, is enough to ruin my day, JUST because I love you so much. Why can’t I say anything to you. Wait, I know the answer to that, because I love you. Because, YES, you have every right to expect from me, everyone has someone they should expect from. But why am I made to feel that what you expect is something that I never give? Is something, I completely deny you,? How about thinking about WHY I don’t? I do my best to be that perfect person. what if I can’t be?

nspirational. But it isnt easy enough.

Sometimes I feel, Ive lost myself. The person I was. The one who cried when she had to, laughed till everyone else had to make her stop, talk till her mouth had to be sellotaped . But now? I laugh just so that no one knows that I need to cry, and have few words to say to everyone. I know where I want to be 10 years from now, but how? I dont even know what im doing with my life right now. I have a million supportive people around me, the bestest friends, a real family. But things have happened which have drilled a permanant hole in my happiness. I TRY. I try to forgive, try to forget. Why can’t I?

Ive stopped trusting people. Not that I did that before too easily, but now, I need to think a million times. The hardest part is that its become hard to trust the people I love. Everyday, I feel guilty for having such pathetic thoughts that ruin my entire day. Every minute, Im overshadowed by pain, the ugliest feeling in the world. I need to be happy again. REALLY happy. Not the kind of happy I am right now.

Why can’t anyone see through me? My smile has got hundreds of words locked in it. And I refuse to let them out. Can’t hurt you, like you did, can I.

THE ONE.

Do you have that one person in your life…

The one who looks at you and you feel elated?

The one who holds you, and you makes you feel like the safest person in this sadistic planet?

The one who smiles at you, and makes you feel like youre on cloud nine? seventh heaven?

The one who kisses you with so much passion that you quiver with joy?

The one who say I love you, and looks into your eyes while doing so?

The one who fights with you ,makes unreasonable comments, sometimes pisses you off and makes you wanna hide in hole and you still cant stop loving them?

The one who listens to you talk endlessly about everything you know and never asks you to stop?

The one who promises to be there with you through all your lows and highs?

The one who laughs at you when you trip and whispers I still love you?

The one who earns your parents respect by being his original self?

The one who, with one look at you, knows how youre feeling?

If you do, dont let him/her go. He/She might not be perfect. But you arent either. And if you two can be together, then no force in the world is strong enough to separate you both.

Being with the person who accepts you and loves you is better than being with one who wants you to change so that he/she can love you. Life isnt about compromises . Its about opportunities. About who you can get when you’re the way you are. And when you do, there’s no looking back. Cherish the memories and respect the person you have. And the rest? Leave that to time. Dont they always say? Time heals everything.