We Part, Only to Meet Again.

Just deactivated my Facebook account. It's the weirdest feeling ever. It's like breaking up with  your really long term boyfriend. It took me almost 40 minutes to push myself through the procedure. Yea, that bad.

Why wouldn't it be? I just realised that I've been on Facebook since 2008. Boy, that is a lot of times. And almost logged in everyday, barring those four five times, where I was in an obscure village, or my net was screwing us, or the curfew, exams (nah!) etc.

Nope. I was not really an addict. There were always those two-three days in a month, when I wouldn't just log in. I would come online, do random things, but not log in.. So, there, feels good to say it. I was NOT an addict :)

As the post title is self explanatory, I will go back. I just don't know when. To add, I hope that this 'when' comes as late as possible. It will be just stupid if I don't go back. It's the easiest way to keep in touch perfectly with everyone I've ever known. Ofcourse, I don't talk to even 10% of my friend list on a daily basis, but it's a good way to know who is upto what, and where!

Stalker much? ;)

I got off the big rat race simply because of one brilliant realization. It all started a few months ago, when my eccentric best friend just deactivated hers. I panicked, called her up, and asked her, 'DUDE, WHAT HAPPENED? I CANNOT TAG YOU!! WHERE ARE YOU, ,COME BACK!!' I was so hysterical that I almost didn't hear her gasping for breath in between her laughter bouts. I was livid. I asked her calmly this time.. 'Why did you go off? Did something happen? Did your boyfriend say something?' I begged her to return and told her that she would come back sooner. (no later). She laughed and said just one word. 'No'. I was quiet. Stunned. At the valiant display of courage. I knew better than to speak up. She then started with her side of the conversation. She told me that, everyday she logs in, with nothing better to do. She scrolls through the various updates, sees pictures, statuses, check ins about everyone's achievements, small or big and feels bad for herself. She sees pictures of fellow mates who are doing everything that they wanted to, and she lacks in her fulfillment of the dreams, in some trivial manner. She logs in, and realises how her guy had the time to play Mafia Wars or fight over someone's status for an hour, but hung up on her because he was 'busy'. And how all this keeps on piling up and start hurting in someway.

And isn't she a million percent correct? If you get off that train, the life at the train will just cease to exist. What you cannot see, will never bother you. What isn't out rightly told to you, isn't meant to be known by you! That is how god made it to be. And I'm trying to follow it.

Only people who do actually care to remember your birthdays will call or text. Not a horde of 'Party Hard Maann' or 'Wohooo! Get sloshed, dude' or the utterly abysmal 'HBD' on your wall. No more pictures of thinner-by-the-day pretty girls plastered all over your wall. No more feeling miserable over your boyfriend's weird priority disorders. No more check ins to places you've always wanted to visit. No more happy hoo-la-la updates from people who kicked you out of their lives, made you so sad that all you did was get fat, cry, eat fattening stuff, wipe tears, throw up, clean that shit to get over their friendship/love. No more of things which bother you. That makes me feel nice. When all you do is eat/sleep/study the whole day and stare at the laptop for company, and the high point of your day is your boyfriend's call, it's time to take charge and make yourself less miserable.

P.S. It's a nice way to know how many people stalk you.. They'll text you to know where did you go off to. ;) Ah Yes, maybe that cutie does too. ;)

P.P.S: And to people who call me weak willed and other things.. Do this for me and I'll bow to thee.

Deactivate your account for just ten days. If you do manage to deactivate, then let me know how many times you thought of logging back in in.

 If it's more than 50 for the entire ten day period..

Then, screw you. :)

Amor's Puppet

You walk past me,

The air impregnates your earthy smell,

Knocks me off my feet,

And, introduces me to my wobbly knees.

You discreetly hold my hand,

Draw circles with your thumb,

The grip is tighter than an elastic,

It makes me tremble,

Down right, till my bones.

You embrace me,

It’s like the whole world’s taking over,

I disintegrate faster than an ignited candle,

The feeling is akin,

To my soul being alight.

You spark upon a conversation,

Your  endearing voice infiltrates through me,

I swear, I do try,

But I hardly do ever understand,

The nuances of our discussions.

Since the day

My eyes met yours

My heart feels stronger,

With the pouring, over flowing love,

 But, It seems I’ve lost control over my senses

My body isn’t controlled by me

But is a puppet to your little gestures.

Need for a Need

It's a straightforward question, really. When you are in a relationship, and it's been long enough for you to feel comfortable with each other's mannerisms, behaviour, humour, and most importantly, know that you love each other, does the need to instill it everyday, diminish?

Is is just okay to stop saying those three magical words..? Because you know that it's there?

Call me clingy, or just brand me with the typical life saver, 'oh! she's a girl', but I feel the need to let the other person know that he is still as important and dear to me, as he was on the day we started dating. Especially when we are in a long distance relationship and I cannot really see his reassuring smile everyday. (Skype be damned. It's not the same, and you know it!) He tells me that it's really obvious and he doesn't see the need to repeat it, or tell it to me everyday, or even once in two or three days.. I get his point of view.. What's the need to keep discussing/talk about things which are already established, loud and clear?

I don't know. I am a very loving, and someone whose life's main aim is to pamper the other person, so subconsciously maybe I start expecting a little of that slobbery, stupid gestures. I make those cards, little cutie notes and stuff and gestures. So maybe, those expectations arise. But really, is expecting an I love you from your beloved a little too much to ask for? I really don't know. To top it all, now I've started feeling all clingy and weird when I say it and don't get a response, or do sweet things. I've started cringing away, or holding my words and emotions back, to not to make him feel suffocated or obligatory to reciprocate. Because that's not what I want. Him to reciprocate just because I forced him into it...

And, I really don't feel good about the holding back part.

Sucks and just SUCKS.

I wish he felt the same way that I did. Ahh. :|

Weirdness all around.

A Seedling's Teaching..

Random scribblings.. I imagined being a little seed buried under the soil.. :)

I poke my nose

Trembling, out of the soil

It’s a beautiful world

Shining and growing,

Spreading, beyond my sight.

I gear up,

Go on further and stand tall,

Because the world is my oyster

And I shall make myself count!

Mis-un-der-stand-ings

The Dictionary.com app in my iPod announces that the word which defines the human ability to screw up perfectly normal things has five syllables. Irony, I say. Till the time you decipher, differentiate and break the word into it's root syllables, you tend to be dazed, and lose all meaning, as to why in the first place did you even start off with it.

Isn't that the same feeling which creeps in when we label something as a huge misunderstanding?

There is nothing in this world more psyching out than a jumble of mindless irritating garble, phrased to irritate and confuse you and drape your thought process in a huge, heavy, opaque curtain.

For the past year, I've been trapped in this booby trap of misunderstandings, and damn, is it spoiling my relationships, eating into my productivity and slowly but steadily killing my happiness and self confidence. Misunderstandings are like slow poisons. When they touch you, you do feel the slight irritation, but being the supreme species that we are, we over look it. It starts spreading slowly, showing itself in its first stage avatar; coughs, seizures, unconsciousness. The devil then starts hatching from the egg, and thus begins the organ failures and helplessness, and the ultimate failure of death. Mind you, the death doesn't come easy. The devil grows to its monstrous size, shows off its ruthlessness in all its glory, before taking you down.

 They say, love conquers everything. But, what do you do when the amour goes haywire, and the very root of the relationship becomes its trap door. Whatever you say, becomes ugly and uglier and is misunderstood in every despicable manner ever. Sometimes, I am forced to sit back and think, is love the only and the sole reason that drives a relationship? Should one call it quits if nothing else works out? True, people survive relationships through all odds and this reason is shoddy to say the least, to part ways. But the everyday banter and cussing and hating is getting a little too much for me to handle.

I'm an ardent believer of the power of love and would do everything to make that love felt. But what does one do when the doors to every single path is blocked and shut firmly by the person whom you wanna reach out to?

 

They say, communication is the key to the problems. But, whenever we communicate, problems arise. Things are misunderstood, underplayed or overplayed to such extent that one starts questioning his/her own existence. If I maintain distance, that is problematic, if I hang around, that is unacceptable too. My explanations and reasoning are never given a higher status than that of being pushed down the little choked drain.

Someday, in all my exasperation, I will pull out every hair of mine. Till then, I'll wait, run around the circles and the carefully chalked out trap of misunderstandings and jump and jive through it. The day I stumble, is the day of bloodshed, and the automatic, unannounced loss of the race. The race against oneself. 

Lose-Lose Situation, they say.