I had a dream, maybe it is god's way of reminding me that its not so easy to let go of the past. Especially a past for which you should be ashamed of. Sometimes you do things that are beyond your own understanding capabilities. You hurt the ones you care for the most. Why do we do that?? Why do we have to hurt someone whom we absolutely and terribly cannot dream of living our lives without? And then, when its too late, things still dont make any sense.
I had a dream, about someone who's always been there for me, who's always protected me, has been my guardian angel for so long that I cant even recall. He was the smartest, funniest and the best person I've known. He still is all that to me. And a month ago, I cut him out of my life, simply because I was scared of hurting him further. He is a self-proclaimed "punching bag", as he calls himself. The thing is, even punching bags burst someday, and I think I stretched him to the limit. And when I was entering one of the worst phases of my life, I decided that I dont want to hurt him anymore. He is someone who genuinely cared, maybe still does, and he will not admit it, but sometimes it feels that he'll be much better off without me.
People used to say I am a good friend. That was four years ago. I am not the same person I was back then. A lot has changed around me. A lot has changed within me. For the worse. Sometimes I go into the forgidden territory and look back to what I was and what I have become now. I try too hard to go back to old times, be the old me, but the new me is so powerful that it defeats the old me without a whimper.
Future is what scares me sometimes. Only my "punching bag" had a complete idea of what goes inside this stupid, naive brain of mine. I cut a lot of people from my life, who called themselves my "friends", but never really cared. I didnt regret that decision. But my punching bag. I thought what I did was for his own good. He does not deserve my occassional blasting. He always took it with a pinch of salt and finally hit a point when he started to lose his cool, occassionally, not always. But he always stood by me.
I dont know if I am making any sense now. I dont even know why I am writing this. Maybe coz I had a dream, and dreams are supposed to be a sub-conscious state of what you are thinking while you are awake. The other day, while driving back home, mom asked me, "How come you don't talk of him anymore?". I was silent. "Is everything ok??". I said "Yes". Maybe she noticed me struggling to wipe off tears, and she did not prod further. He did not deserve the treatment I gave him. He has always been one of the most important peices of the jig-saw puzzle that is my life, but let's say for the time being I hid the piece coz I had handled it so badly that it was tearing at the ends. Maybe I am being protective, maybe I am being stupid, as always. But as he always said, "It has always been you who has decided how our relationship goes".
I dont want to be the one who hurts you anymore and I think you are better off without me in your life. Am I better of without you? ....... I dont find myself equipped with answering that, coz till now I thought this was for the best for both of us. But if it was, why do tear drops dampen my cheeks as I write this?? Why do I feel like the most loathesome creature when I hear your name?? Why do I still look at your name is my cell phone when I feel really low and I need some strength??
I dont know the answers to all this. But I know one thing for sure. I am not willing to be the one who hurts you anymore. I dint think I can live with that. Saying THANK YOU will be an insult to whatever you have done for me. I hope and wish for the best things for you and... I am finally out of words.....and if this ends abruptly, let it be so. Coz every story doesnt have an ending. Maybe ours doesnt either...and I'm hopeful that its still being written.
Two months....Almost!!!
Gosh, I cant believe I've been out of action all these days. :(( I wasnt gonna write today either but then when I visited my blog I said, "Hey, its awefully long since I wrote about anything...chhaa!!!"
I am running a slight temperature and tomorrow will be my last exam. Its burning hot here and I've started to look like the charred remains of one Ms.Smriti Srivastava. So, lets get started once again then :)
It was my birthday on 3rd May...I turned 22....Yay!!! :D
I hadn't expected much since exams were coming up and I had got used to getting my birthday ruined last three years running...all coz of exams. I thought this year will be a similar affair, with me sitting in my room and studying. No friends to meet. No celebrations. No cake cutting (although I dont like the whole cake cutting funda...its mandatory as a family tradition...will explain soon). And No gifts.
I share my birthday with an aunt of mine (Kanak Bua) and we have been celebrating our birthday together for ages now...well 21 years to be exact :P. Big brother Rahul and everyone else in the family insisted we meet up at Kanak bua's place and just have a quiet dinner. All arrangements were made. Food, Ice-cream, cake...etc etc and people to eat all that stuff.
Things turned out very different to what I had expected. After a long time, Divya was with me on my birthday, and I think she got a little bored coz "the family" wanted a piece of me, every other minute. It was good to have Divya there with me coz only we know why. :)
The whole family gathered, including a new almost-member of the family. To-be-Jeejaji Rahul (yes, another Rahul), fiance of my cousin Maneesha, was in attendance with the regulars. The cakes were cut...two separate cakes for me and bua. Now we come to the tradition. Even when there's one birthday, two cakes are ordered anyways. Coz everyone grabs a little cake and smears it one the faces of the nearest person they can find. I escaped everytime, but today was not to be. Rahul Jeejaji the culprit painted my face with the cake and I tell you, I'd rather have it in my mouth than on my face.
Divya wanted to join in and put some on my face too but when I said no, she retracted. You'll have more occassions to do that Diva ;) I put a lil cake on her though....like a tilak :P
So all in all, this was the first birthday I hadnt been looking forward to and I enjoyed the most. Didnt need any gifts, had the happiest of times with my entire family and spent quality time with a dear friend. What else does one want on their birthday??? :)
Oh yes, I did get a few gifts...but the best one was by an orkut friend who wrote in "Hey Happy Birthday...Just a gift...You should be called "Kimriti" from now on" :D :) :) I couldn't stop the smiles all day.
Just wanted to post something so started out with this. Now I hope you will remember Kimriti's birthday...right??? :D
I am running a slight temperature and tomorrow will be my last exam. Its burning hot here and I've started to look like the charred remains of one Ms.Smriti Srivastava. So, lets get started once again then :)
It was my birthday on 3rd May...I turned 22....Yay!!! :D
I hadn't expected much since exams were coming up and I had got used to getting my birthday ruined last three years running...all coz of exams. I thought this year will be a similar affair, with me sitting in my room and studying. No friends to meet. No celebrations. No cake cutting (although I dont like the whole cake cutting funda...its mandatory as a family tradition...will explain soon). And No gifts.
I share my birthday with an aunt of mine (Kanak Bua) and we have been celebrating our birthday together for ages now...well 21 years to be exact :P. Big brother Rahul and everyone else in the family insisted we meet up at Kanak bua's place and just have a quiet dinner. All arrangements were made. Food, Ice-cream, cake...etc etc and people to eat all that stuff.
Things turned out very different to what I had expected. After a long time, Divya was with me on my birthday, and I think she got a little bored coz "the family" wanted a piece of me, every other minute. It was good to have Divya there with me coz only we know why. :)
The whole family gathered, including a new almost-member of the family. To-be-Jeejaji Rahul (yes, another Rahul), fiance of my cousin Maneesha, was in attendance with the regulars. The cakes were cut...two separate cakes for me and bua. Now we come to the tradition. Even when there's one birthday, two cakes are ordered anyways. Coz everyone grabs a little cake and smears it one the faces of the nearest person they can find. I escaped everytime, but today was not to be. Rahul Jeejaji the culprit painted my face with the cake and I tell you, I'd rather have it in my mouth than on my face.
Divya wanted to join in and put some on my face too but when I said no, she retracted. You'll have more occassions to do that Diva ;) I put a lil cake on her though....like a tilak :P
So all in all, this was the first birthday I hadnt been looking forward to and I enjoyed the most. Didnt need any gifts, had the happiest of times with my entire family and spent quality time with a dear friend. What else does one want on their birthday??? :)
Oh yes, I did get a few gifts...but the best one was by an orkut friend who wrote in "Hey Happy Birthday...Just a gift...You should be called "Kimriti" from now on" :D :) :) I couldn't stop the smiles all day.
Just wanted to post something so started out with this. Now I hope you will remember Kimriti's birthday...right??? :D
My First time....
What does the blog suggest?? My first time what?? Getting ideas?? Keep them to yourself. Today, with nothing better to write, I plan to let you have a peek into this leaf of my life, which is probably the reason why I am here writing this in the first place. Today, I'll introduce you to my first attempt at writing.
It was way back in class five, when I came to Harvard Public School. All students were asked to submit their entries for the annual magazine. As was my daily routine, I told my parents of the events taking place in school. I told them about the annual magazine. My parents, as usual, asked me to write up something and see if that makes it to the magazine (they didn't know that almost every entry made it to the magazine :)). The only problem was, I had never attempted at writing a work of fiction or anything apart from academics up until that time.
I shrugged it off saying it is not my cup of tea. I was more of a talker then, than the page-filler. Then it all changed on afternoon, not very long after the above mentioned talk with my folks.
My aunt was the principal at this school and she was taking her students to some inter-school competition. I had a holiday that day and I accompanied her to the competitions. I found the topic for the essay writing competition very interesting. So me, a non-participant, getting totally bored...what did I do?? I imagined a story in my head. I was good at it back then. My aunt, knowing fully well that I was bored, gave me a paper and pen, and asked me to attempt writing what I had in mind. I took the pen and paper, very hesitantly of course.
What was the essay topic??
"THE DAY I MET MARTIANS".
Why did I suddenly remember this??
I found that very same paper I wrote the story on that day, while cleaning out old stuff from the numerous shelves.
I remember showing the paper to my aunt that day and she had been very encouraging. She told me my story was cute but the language needed a bit tweaking. She asked me to start reading more books and start writing more, coz she thought I could do better than that. I thought she was trying to please me then. Nevertheless, I modified that story several times and gave it as my entry for the magazine. And yeah, of course it made it there.
Even though I knew that almost all entries were accepted, mine was nothing special, but to see something that I had written, in a book, printed and bound, something that will be read by hundreds of children and their parents. That gave me a real boost. A sense of pride I had never felt before. And I've loved writing (even if it is nonsense mostly) ever since.
I lost the copy of that magazine... but I can still remember my story with my picture and my name on that page. I can still remember the smile on my parent's and grandma and aunt's face when they saw the very same thing. Its something I guess I will never lose. That was my first attempt and writing... which has continued ever since... and I still continue to bore you with it. :P
Peace!!
P.S: Me and my sister were laughing our heads off reading that story now. I will scan and put it up for you guys ASAP!! :)
It was way back in class five, when I came to Harvard Public School. All students were asked to submit their entries for the annual magazine. As was my daily routine, I told my parents of the events taking place in school. I told them about the annual magazine. My parents, as usual, asked me to write up something and see if that makes it to the magazine (they didn't know that almost every entry made it to the magazine :)). The only problem was, I had never attempted at writing a work of fiction or anything apart from academics up until that time.
I shrugged it off saying it is not my cup of tea. I was more of a talker then, than the page-filler. Then it all changed on afternoon, not very long after the above mentioned talk with my folks.
My aunt was the principal at this school and she was taking her students to some inter-school competition. I had a holiday that day and I accompanied her to the competitions. I found the topic for the essay writing competition very interesting. So me, a non-participant, getting totally bored...what did I do?? I imagined a story in my head. I was good at it back then. My aunt, knowing fully well that I was bored, gave me a paper and pen, and asked me to attempt writing what I had in mind. I took the pen and paper, very hesitantly of course.
What was the essay topic??
"THE DAY I MET MARTIANS".
Why did I suddenly remember this??
I found that very same paper I wrote the story on that day, while cleaning out old stuff from the numerous shelves.
I remember showing the paper to my aunt that day and she had been very encouraging. She told me my story was cute but the language needed a bit tweaking. She asked me to start reading more books and start writing more, coz she thought I could do better than that. I thought she was trying to please me then. Nevertheless, I modified that story several times and gave it as my entry for the magazine. And yeah, of course it made it there.
Even though I knew that almost all entries were accepted, mine was nothing special, but to see something that I had written, in a book, printed and bound, something that will be read by hundreds of children and their parents. That gave me a real boost. A sense of pride I had never felt before. And I've loved writing (even if it is nonsense mostly) ever since.
I lost the copy of that magazine... but I can still remember my story with my picture and my name on that page. I can still remember the smile on my parent's and grandma and aunt's face when they saw the very same thing. Its something I guess I will never lose. That was my first attempt and writing... which has continued ever since... and I still continue to bore you with it. :P
Peace!!
P.S: Me and my sister were laughing our heads off reading that story now. I will scan and put it up for you guys ASAP!! :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
