This post is being made under the influence of alcohol. Therefore, it may have more information than I would want to be out here. However, I do promise that I will not edit any of it off. I know you guys deserve a bit of gossip. After all the whining, especially.

So.

I am thinking about the time you and me were at the club and we were at two different ends of the club. Me with my friends. You with your friends. And you kept looking at me. From right across the floor. Every twenty seconds, literally. A friend's friend asked me if you were my guy. I was like yeah and asked him how he knew. He said he could tell.

I am thinking about the time you circled nothings on my back while I was sitting on the bar stool right in front of the bar stool you were on. And you whispered silly stuff into my ears. And all the mushy details that I will refrain from going into. And then you asked me, outside, to show you my feet. I still wonder why. I need to ask you that the next time I see you. Why.

I am thinking about the time you kissed me when we met that night. And then, right in the next moment, you said Strawberry Daiquiri. I said Singapore Sling. I thought that was sexy. Really sexy. And up on the top floor, I waited for you at the bar. Next to me was this fhirang lady, who I helped grab a drink. And you joined me. The fhirang lady told you, "Don't you ever dare let go of her!" You didn't listen to her, did you.

I am thinking about the time I came back from home with all this baggage on my shoulders and my back and my mind. We met after almost a month. And you took me in your arms, holding me there for what felt like forever. I was glad I had you to hold me then. I really needed someone to hold me.

I am thinking about the time you called me up in the morning hours. You never do that. And I felt extra loved. And then you broke up with me that very afternoon. I don't know what you were thinking. But I know you had your reasons. Reasons which you could have phrased in a better way. No one likes surprises. The bad ones. Shocks.

I am thinking about the time when we met after six months. When you called me and I sorta forced you into meeting up. And we were there. At this place where we hardly knew people. Only a few of them. And the chemistry. Oh my holy fcuking lord, the chemistry that was flowing between us. It was insane. I remember us both trying to hide it underneath all the chilled out talk. But it was surfacing up and over again and again and again.

I am thinking about the time you said we have no future. I know you were right. I know you are right. We do not have a future. Though I liked that you said it in that way. It was like you wished so hard that we had that future but we didn't. I still love you, you know. Yeah you do. Not in the lovey-dovey way, but I do love you. As a person. And I hope we can make it through all the chemistry and some day be the bestest of friends. You're the kinda friends I want to have. And I am the kind of friend you want to have. So give it a go boy. I know you can make it happen.

This was the ex. Not THE ex. The rebound guy ex. I know what you must be thinking. If this is what was with the rebound guy, was she literally in heaven with THE guy? Well, the news is that the rebound guy is getting married this week. And I don't know what to feel. I am happy for him, yes I am. I would have never married him anyway. He was more fling material, you know what I mean. But I did like him. So I don't know what exactly to feel. Especially after knowing that all the chemistry and the attraction and the blah blah is still alive. Yes, till date. We're gonna work on it. We have agreed.

Whatever. Let's talk about THE guy. THE guy is now happy. In his life, where he was unhappy and he found me and we became happy and then I realized he had to be happy in his own life and not mine, and I left him. Yes. THE guy that I left. THE guy that I have moaned about all through this blog. He is happy. Good for him. I am happy that he is happy. Isn't that what I wanted anyway. For him to find his happiness in his own sweet life. Then why am I wondering? Makes me wonder.

By the way. Have you noticed that I am generally happy for everyone around me?

Oh! Why does Bollywood have to come up with these totally melt your heart kinda love songs every once in while, which make you reminisce and become all nostalgic about that perfect, mushy, gooey love that was once in your life and feel like shite and void and empty and horrible. Ohhh, that sucks. It sucks, sucks, sucks. Totally!

As complicated as the world can get, the laws of attractions definitely leap one notch ahead.

You have the crushes and the infatuations. The stupid gooey feeling you get just by seeing someone, talking to someone, interacting in anyway with that someone. There are the short lived ones. The ones that get boring, the ones that simply die out. The ones that you need to bring you those little bouts of happiness when your down and dull. And then there are the ones that just last forever. The Richard Gere kinds. The kinds that you know will make you weak in the knees even twenty years down the line.

Then come the more complex ones. Love. Lust. These concepts are much more complicated. And that brings about all the confusion, the gray areas. Do love and lust always go hand in hand? Probably not. That is not the right way to phrase it. Lust can obviously exist on its own. Repeat. Does love always come along with lust? Does love need lust for it to be the real love? And we are talking about the opposites attract kinda love here, not the mother/friend/whatever kinda love. The partner kinda love. So do you always need the lust to sustain the love? How much of which do you need to get the correct mix? What if the lust over powers the love in the equation, you know, if there is love but there is much more intense lust along with it. Do we call that love or lust? What do you do with the oodles of chemistry if you do not have enough love to sustain the chemicals in the long term? Just as you can't let love go to waste, can you also not let lust go down the drain?

Someone needs to write a book. The book of love, the book of attraction, the book of whatever. The one with all the answers. And I need to buy that book.

mai jaha rahu, mai kahi bhi hu, teri yaad saath hai
kisi se kahu, ke nahi kahu, yeh jo dil ki baat hai
kehne ko saath apne ek duniya chalti hai
par chupke is dil mai tanhaai palti hai
bas yaad saath hai.. teri yaad saath hai.. teri yaad saath hai

mai jaha rahu, mai kahi bhi hu, teri yaad saath hai

kahi to dil mai yaadon ki ek suli gad jaati hai
kahi har ek tasveer bahut hi dhundhli pad jaati hai
koi nayi duniya ke naye rangon mai khush rehta hai
koi sab kuch paake bhi yeh mann hi mann kehta hai
kehne ko saath apne ek duniya chalti hai
par chupke is dil mai tanhaai palti hai
bas yaad saath hai.. teri yaad saath hai.. teri yaad saath hai

kahi to beete kal ki jadein dil mai hi utar jaati hai
kahi jo dhaage toote to maalein bhikhar jaati hai
koi dil mai jagah naye baaton ke liye rakhta hai
koi apni palko par yaadon ke diye rakhta hai
kehne ko saath apne ek duniya chalti hai
par chupke is dil mai tanhaai palti hai
bas yaad saath hai.. teri yaad saath hai.. teri yaad saath hai

mai jaha rahu, mai kahi bhi hu, teri yaad saath hai

Yet again I'm drowning in you. Desperately drowning, and not even trying to save myself. It feels good. Its feels like I'm paying back, for what I did to you. It feels like I need to drown. In you. I wonder if you hate me now. I hope you don't. I hope you have been your kind self, as always, and found a reason to justify my behavior. I hope you still love me. And I hope you believe that I still love you. Coz I still do.

I'm losing it. The bubbly-ness. The chirpy-ness. The lively-ness. The charm. The confidence. The spirit, of everything, including living.

I mean, what's the point. I was always a strong believer in the "love hai to life hai" philosophy, still am. It was fine before when I was bumping into random people and the love kinda love didn't really exist. I may have thought that it did, but it didn't. And I came to realize that sooner or later. Life went on then, with the hope that someday the real deal will come along. And then love bhi hogi and life bhi hoga. But ever since I wrecked the love that was love, actually, I don't see the point in living really. And it's not like there is a chance here and things may work out and I should just hang on in there for the right time to come. There is never gonna be a right time. Even if there could be a time, it is never gonna be right. Not for me. No. That is not how I want it to be. It'll be like building your dream house over a graveyard. Of the other people who wanted the very same dream house. You kill all those people, bury them and then build your dream house above it all. I don't wanna be living over the dead. I don't wanna be starting the right thing with something that is so wrong. So utterly wrong.

I admit I did go down that wrong path for a while. I took a few steps down that road. I just wanted to have a taste of the journey, of the love. The love that was what I had always hoped for but its existence was beyond my imagination. Literally beyond my imagination. And I have no regrets. At all. I am in fact so glad I took those steps. Whatever had come over me and made my feet go in that direction, God bless it. I believe it's one of the best things I've ever done. One of the best and truest things. True and pure. Dil se. Like the real dil se. Something so right. But you know sometimes you're strolling around in this gorgeous place, and suddenly you realize that you're in a place you shouldn't be. A forbidden place. A place where any trespasser gets prosecuted. And once that realization hits you, you go beyond all the gorgeous and just run away the fastest you can, run for your life, not looking back.

Here's the thing. I was strolling. I realized. I ran. After the running, there is supposed to be no looking back. But I am still looking. Still staring. At that gorgeous paradise. And it's killing me. Just the looking. I need someone to come by and slap me awake and take me away. But there's no one. Coz no one even knows that I'm staring. Nobody. The only people that knew I was once there and then ran away have been convinced, by me myself, that I have not looked back and that I never will. But I'm still staring. The staring, the looking, the gazing. It's gotten me exhausted. Tired. My eyes are tired. With all those eye bags and dark circles. But I just can't stop.

Save me. I know that love can happen phir se. Keeping in mind the statistics, probably I will have the love thing going again. Maybe not the same kind, maybe not not as good, but maybe even better. That's just me being logical and optimistic and all the things you should be in situations like this. Whatever. For now, please just save me.

kisi ke ishq ke vaade.. kahi hum tod aaye hai
magar yeh dil, yeh jaan, shaayad vahi chhod aaye hai

My first post. On my second blog. And I don't even remember what my first blog was like. I don't even know if it still exists, if any living being has ever read it. Or if it has been buried somewhere amongst the infinite blogs on the www. Who cares... this one's about this one.

So, why this blog? I've tried so many ways out. Alcohol. Partying like the world will end tomorrow. Dating. Corporate whoring. Studying again. Nothing works. I keep finding myself back at the same place, the same place where I left him. That moment in time when I said that I don't want him to be a part of my life anymore. When I decided that I was chasing an impossible dream and it was time to wake up and get real. The minute I decided to step out of my fairytale. Yes, this is another one of those blogs, of a previously-lovesick-currently-heartbroken soul. Another one of those attempts to let loose where no one sees but everyone listens, where people judge but you have the liberty to choose the judgments you'd want to give a damn about, where your heart flows but you don't drown. This is my attempt, to let go.

I don't want to let go. Although I say I want to let go, I don't. I don't want to give up. I wish someone could erase all that has happened in my life and his life and we could start over again and be with each other and live in unending ecstasy. The unending ecstasy he opened my eyes to. The unending ecstasy of being loved by him and loving him back. He was my dream. No. More than my dream. Much more than I could ever imagine to be mine. You know they say that when you have love you don't need anything else. I didn't need anything more than him. He was my inspiration, my rock, my passion, my fire, my courage, my determination, my ego, my pride, my everything. My love. My soul.

And why did I walk away? Let's not get there. It's complicated. Yeah, that's what everyone says. But it is. Complicated. What he was, where I was. The destination was the same. For me, the destination was like another galaxy. I didn't see a way we could get there. Ever. He did see a road to the galaxy though, but walking that road would mean burning down all the other paths and bridges we could ever get on for the rest of our lives. See, it is complicated. And probably nonsensical.

But I love him. Although I walked away from him, I still love him. My soul has loved his soul. And these soul things just don't disappear forever, do they. Even if they could, I would never want this one to. It is the most beautiful thing that has ever happened to me. Stupidly optimistic and lovey dovey still. Par kya kare, ishq kiya hai. I owe him an explanation. On why I suddenly turned into something he could not even recognize. Something that woke up one day and wanted to run away from everything. Something that would snarl and growl and bite and even devour anything that came in her way of escape. A monster. A monster his love could not tame. His love, that had been the most powerful thing over the same monster until just the night before.

Maybe she ran away because she was scared. Of the road to the destination. Maybe she wanted to get real. Or maybe she ran away because she saw no other escape from her beautiful misery. The misery of not being with him. The misery of not being able to feel his love beyond his words and his voice. The misery of dying with the thought of not being able to do it ever in her life. Her beautiful misery. I don't know. I really don't.

Told you it's complicated. Later.