Hello, yesterday I got stood up (sort of?) and I had way too much time on my hands in between shopping and waiting for my sister to come pick me up to think (yet again) about why I’m still single and I guess I’ve come to the realization one of the possible reasons for the same could be that I stick to a type of men always.

I most certainly have a type. I like ambitious, focused men with big dreams, massive guns, cute butts, perfectly groomed beards, moderately high (umm) levels of arrogance (I’d want an equal, after all of course) and high intellect. Of course men like this are almost too good to be true or turn out to be absolute assholes. Or they busy hustlin’, and have no time to date. (why do i have so much time on my hands, i need to be doing more things goddammit)

But doesn’t every one have a type? One type of person you’re almost always easily drawn to?

So how does one develop a type anyway?

I believe mine has emerged from the first man I ever seriously dated (tall, hot, ambitious, arrogant, absolute asshole, the relationship pretty much went to shit in the end but ayyy, was I a happy clam while it lasted). It is beyond me why I still stick to this type despite it not having a happy ending for me. But I guess it gave me a few wonderful memories that I still fondly hold close to my heart. So I guess I’ve a type because it’s comfortable. I KNOW what it’d be like to date someone like that again (the happy part y’all, I’m no masochist) (or am I? Mm hmm, I’d have to ponder on this next).

Anywaaaaaaay, the point of the rant was for me to put my thoughts on paper and basically understand I’m being an idiot by sticking to a type. I guess, there’s not much I can compromise when it comes to intellect and ambition (because really I’m hella ambitious and I personally think I’m smart as hell, no Shireen stop laughing fuck you I’m smart, and yeah so basically I couldn’t ever relate to someone who is not like me) but physically, definitely. Not all men are gym freaks and really, I don’t understand my intense attraction to the type (when I myself no longer work out, highly hypocritical yes I know. SIGH) but I’m aware I’m missing out on a lot of men who simply have other priorities like work, uni, family or goals that just happen to take up most of their time (but not pot, definitely no compromise there, I’ll never seriously date a regular stoner nuh uh simply because I can’t enjoy it, and I’m yet to come across a high functioning person on pot and I find addicts to anything weak, and hello I need someone I’ll grow stronger with)

At the end of the day, am I going to want to go home to a good heart or a good body? Both seems ideal (heh) but really I guess at the end of the day I just want to be loved and have someone to lean on when things get tough and so good heart, it is.

But then again, I urge you to never settle for anything less than what you absolutely deserve, and I’m telling you, you deserve someone who’s head over heels in love with you, who makes you abso-fucking-lutely happy, who gives you butterflies every time you kiss, who makes you a priority and never has you insecure about your place in a relationship and who makes you want to be a better version of yourself every single day. Now that’s one type of partner I believe everyone should stick to.


Happy birthday, sunshine

As long as I live, I will never forget how you came over and introduced yourself on the first day of eleventh grade with the warmest of smiles and I so clearly remember how we got close, you practically dragged me away from that random Commerce chick on the steps, and spent the rest of PE with me just talking for one hour straight. Then we started to sit together, and eventually, I found my best friend in you.

That’s you. My best friend. And everywhere I go, deep inside I know all I try to find is someone just like you. But that’s the thing, no one can be you. No one I’ve ever met in the twenty years of my existence is as fiercely loyal,  adorable and selflessly kind as you. No one I’ve ever met has a heart as big as yours.

And every day, I strive to be a warm, sunny person like you.

Life sucks sometimes, but I know I’ll never ever truly be alone. Because I’ll always have you and you’re just a phone call away. And a conversation with you has never failed to brighten me right up. I absolutely love how there’s never a dearth of things to talk about. That reminds me, I really have an insane amount of important news to tell you and god, I need to meet you soon. Kerala trip, coming up.

And thank you, for sticking around. And never giving up on me. And for forgiving me when I acted like a total selfish bitch (remember our first and last fight in twelfth grade? good lord, what the fuck was I doing) To this day, I do not know what I did to deserve you, but I’m eternally grateful to the universe for letting me find you.

You gave me my happiest memories in Trissur. Every day with you was an absolute joy. I’ve never been the kind to miss school, I was more than happy to get the fuck out of there, but if there’s one single thing I do miss, it’s sitting with you and just talking non-stop, laughing like a lunatic at the stories you’d tell me (remember the little kid who was annoyed with sunlight in your school bus? It still makes me laugh when I think about it, jesus), reading those Health magazine sexology columns with you and Kiran in the library ahahahahah, ayyy. You see, the only parts of school life I miss, are the bits with you.

Good heavens, I sound gay.

Ay, but who cares. And I miss you terribly today. And I wish I could’ve been in town for your birthday, but I’m going to try and come in October and I shall bring your birthday gift along. But I’m glad you had a great birthday yesterday.

I think I’ll tell you the rest when I call you next.

I love you, baby girl. Always, always stay happy.


Dear K,

You awe me every day 

I think of you and pride fills my heart. Life has been particularly onerous from when you were far too young, but you’ve battled and risen past each bump in the road, risen like a phoenix from ashes.

You’re a fighter. And you inspire me every day.

I’ve traced the scars on your skin and they only tell me you were stronger than everything life has thrown at you to bring you down. Souvenirs from battles won.

And suddenly it feels like you’re going through a particularly tough phase and it breaks my heart. And this letter is to remind you to stay strong and keep fighting.

The day is not far when the past will stop clawing at you, causing this ache in your heart. The day isn’t far when it’ll finally stop hurting. But you need to hold on, and baby, as quick as the fix is, whisky is but temporary solace.

You’re a dreamer. But even better than that, you’re an achiever. I genuinely cannot wait for the day you get commissioned and I get to see you in uniform. I think I’ll weep with sheer joy.

(also 18 inches, ayyy)

So hustle until then. Hustle until one day you sit back in an armchair, memories replaying in your mind and there’s a peg of the finest scotch whisky in your hand, and you smile. You smile because you don’t drink to escape reality anymore, you drink to celebrate it. You smile because you’ve achieved every single goal you’ve ever dreamt of achieving and life is exactly how you want it to be. You’ll smile because the hustle has been hard but it’s been worth it.

And lastly, (hah this is of course my favorite because love is fantastic and I’m a romantic 4evzz and despite my already having said this to you 38795 times, I’m going to say this again) never give up on love. Some day in the near future, you’re going to find a beautiful heart that’s going to feel like home. And for the first time you’ll know what it’s like to be loved unconditionally, without the slightest trace of doubt. There will be no more pain, you’ll create a million new memories, pure, happy, absolutely beautiful ones, the past won’t hurt you anymore, it’ll reduce to mere blur. You see, you’ll be deliriously happy. Love is a choice, and she’ll choose you every day.

So believe it. You are going to be okay. You are not alone. And you’re going to achieve every mfkn dream you’ve ever had.

Now, hustle.

You’re a beast, boy. Never ever fail to remember that.


Much love xx



For N and S, 

This letter is for all those times I couldn’t vocally express how much I fucking love you ladies and how much you mean to me and how much my life would absolutely suck whale cock if you weren’t in it.

Thank you.

Thank you for the hugs when I was breaking down and weeping like a fucking sad fuck and complaining about how much I despise being single and alone. Thank you for taking me seriously when I was in my fucked up hate phase and promising to always be there, and most importantly, thank you. For being there. Every single time.

Thank you for patiently listening to my endless rants about stupid boys (especially you, N), terrible dates and my countless insecurities and always saying nice things, encouraging me to feel better and love myself and always making me feel good.

Thank you for understanding and never taking it personally when I’d PMS like a bitch and snap like a stupid, immature fuck (I’m sorry guys). Thank you for coming along for my spontaneous shopping moods (especially you, S) and never complaining even if I left buying nothing new. Thank you for not rubbing it in my face when I had my hypocritical smoking phase.

Thank you for all the appreciation, motivation and compliments, if only you guys knew how it has helped my previously non-existent self esteem.

Thank you for being my shoulder to cry on through unhealthy, toxic relationships, fuckboys and always asking me to put myself first and helping me learn to fucking love myself. Thank you for spontaneous last minute clubbing-partying plans, sleepovers, photo sessions and cuddle-snuggle sess’s.

Thank you for Unicorns, PowerPuff ladies and all the other names we’ve previously designated for ourselves. Thank you for never judging my terrible decisions/ lifestyle choices. Thank you for being the Carrie and Miranda to my Samantha. Thank you for all the feel-good bitching and gossip sess. Thank you for being the sole reason why Uni doesn’t suck and being the only reason why I’m not a fucking loner in class. Thank you for the coffee/egg puff/nandini chai/movie runs. Thank you for being yourselves and existing. Thank you for being so absolutely awesome.

Thank you for making me feel important, like I’m a part of something.

God, I so fucking love you guys.





I’m trembling.

He holds me in his arms.

I’m shaking, my mind is exploding with emotions I cannot contain.

I’m a mess, a broken mess but right now in his arms I’m starting to feel safe again.

Please don’t let go.

There is nowhere else I’d rather be.

Suddenly it doesn’t matter how my past is looming over my heart like a dark cloud preparing to come down as pouring rain and leave me drenched, it doesn’t matter how I detest the way I look, the million issues I have with my body, it doesn’t matter how I think I’ll never be good enough for anyone. My inadequacies are reducing to a blur.

Because suddenly all that matters is the solace the rhythm of his steady heartbeat offers, and his strong arms enveloping me entirely, cocooning me in his warmth.

Hush, baby girl. I’m here now. 

You’ve spent your entire life trying to heal broken people and fix broken things and you’ve ignored how much of damage that has inflicted on you for far too long. You put aside the fact that you were left broken too, in the process. Now let me help you fix yourself, help you heal all of your broken pieces. 

Kaya, he pauses.

I love you. 

I love you, Kaya. I love you with every fiber of my being. And I knew I was in love when I first saw you walking up to me your wild hair flying free in the wind, your stride poised and confident. You were so stunningly beautiful, in your own wild, bohemian way. 

I knew I was in love when you waved and flashed that bright smile and I knew in my heart I’d never get enough of it, and all I ever wanted was to make sure that smile would never leave your lips. 

And I realize now how much I love you when I feel your heart breaking and I discern, so is my own. 

Kaya, beautiful Kaya, I love you, baby girl. I’m here now and I promise to stay. I need you to smile again.

He kisses my forehead and pulls me in even closer. Never have I ever been hugged so tight.

My heart melts.

I’d managed to fight back tears until now but no longer can I hold them in.

They roll down my cheek. These aren’t tears of sorrow, they are those of profound joy.

I sit up and put my arms around his neck and I whisper in his ears, I love you too. My voice chokes.

There is so much I wish to say,  so much I need to express. I’m overwhelmed with emotions. For the first time in my life, my words will have to wait.

For now I’m going to stay wrapped in his arms, savour this silence and cherish every little thing about this moment. It is so absolutely imperfectly perfect, it makes me smile.

Lord, I’m in love, so unconditionally, utterly, desperately and madly in love. And for the first time, I feel just as unconditionally, utterly, desperately and madly loved.


You close your eyes and look away. You’re fighting back tears and it absolutely crushes me. It breaks my heart, you have a past so troubled. And it breaks my heart because you, my love, you deserved none of it.

A single tear rolls down.

No love, hush, you’re okay now. You’re in my arms and you’re safe. I’m going to hold you close and tight for as long as you want me to. I’ll rock you softly, wrap you in my warmth. I kiss your forehead.

I love you. I whisper and I feel your arms tighten around me.

But how could you ever believe me after being let down far too many times by those who whispered the same.

You’re terrified. You’re terrified you’ll let me in and I’ll leave you too.

But no, love. Open your heart, just one more time.

My heart brims with love, let it wash over you. I’ll love you until it surprises you and shocks you how happy you are; you’ve known pain and sorrow for too long, now let me show you pure, sheer joy. The past will soon seem like a mere blur.

I vow to fight for you, to fight to make us work, to fill your life with a ton of fond, happy new memories and experiences. I vow to always be your sunshine, to always ask about your day and to kiss you good night and good morning. I vow to never ever let you go to sleep upset. I vow to hug you and hold you close every chance I get. I promise to give you your space, never interfere with your boys’ night plans and game nights. But most importantly, I vow, love, to never ever give up on us, no matter how difficult things get and I promise to love you with every beat of my heart.

And all I ask of you is this, open your heart again, let me in, let me love you and help you heal.

Sleep now, here in my lap, sleep like a baby, soft, quiet breaths and thoughts untroubled, knowing I’m here now and I’m here to stay.


Monsoon is here and there’s nothing I’d rather do than curl up underneath the softest soybean quilt I can find, make myself a cup of hot cocoa and watch reruns of Sex and the City.  

I’ve never been a fan of the rains. I can’t stand getting wet in it. And I never could relate to authors writing about how romantic this season is and how absolutely amazing kissing in the pouring rain is. 

Monsoon is a depressing season. I hate how absolutely quiet it suddenly gets, how the sky is downcast and grey instead of its usual magnificent blue dotted with white cotton candy clouds. I miss sunshine, beautiful, joyful sunshine. I hate how the earth’s now permanently wet and slushy, how my clothes take forever to dry, how I can no longer step out with just my wallet and phone, now I’ve to carry an annoying umbrella which is a wet nuisance. 

Most of all, I hate how this season reminds me of you, of how we’d light a marlboro and complain about how much we hate the rain, how we’d spend chilly nights wrapped in each other under your ridiculously thick quilt, how you’d make me your signature coffee and I’d settle in your lap and we’d stay that way for hours, talking about nihilism, Marquez and Bukowski. 

The rains bring me memories of you and they’re bittersweet.