Of Men and Love

There are two kinds of men that you’ll meet in life. One breaks your heart and your spirit, leaves you feeling worthless clinging on to the pain of loss and wondering what you did wrong. He promises you the world, makes you feel special, says that he loves you and calls you his. You’re on top of the world, you’re falling so hard and the increasing intensity of your feelings for him overwhelm you. You let yourself be his and give him your heart. And then one day, something goes wrong and it’s a downward spiral from there on. You find out about his lies; it shocks you how easily you let yourself be played. You’re angry at him, at your situation and most of all, yourself. You’re humiliated at the thought that all you were was a plaything to someone you thought was your world. It ends, he leaves and you’re left in a depressed daze; a shattered broken heart, a long journey of picking up the pieces and fixing yourself. The scars remain, they always will, but you hope someday you’ll make peace with them.

And then you meet the other kind of man. He helps you heal. He helps you pick up the pieces, makes you feel stronger, and makes you not miss the first man so much. He gives you hope, makes you laugh, holds you in his strong arms when you have those rare wild tears streaming down your cheeks and treats you how you deserve to be treated. You start to let down all the walls you built up because you’ve finally accepted all men are not the same and are ready to trust someone again, to just let someone in. You’re terrified of being disappointed again; you don’t know if you’ll be able to take it if that happens, but you’re brave. You’re brave enough to take a chance. And this is the best part. You’ll never regret taking this chance, because this man, he’s not going to disappoint you. He’ll make you happy, tell you the first man’s a fool and never deserved you, and you’ll believe him because you’re finally where you wanted to be; you’re with someone who does deserve you and you’re healed. This man, will be your best friend. And one thing is for certain I promise you, he’ll help you find love again.

Summer of ’16

Summer of ’16, changed everything.

I finally got over the man who broke my foolish heart and let go of everything I had held on to; my memories with him, my feelings for him and my deep sense of hurt at his betrayal. Summer of ’16, I finally forgave him in my heart and let him go.

I caved in to my deepest inner desires, I gave in to the lust that I’d always been too inhibited to act on or express. Summer of ’16, I let myself free, opened my heart and liberated myself.

I met a man who is nothing like anyone I’ve met before, who made me feel stronger than ever without realizing it, and we formed a connection I cannot put to words and nor do I feel compelled to. It is beautiful, it is comfortable and it is heart-warming. Perfectly imperfect, devoid of expectations or promises and yet filled with much joy and happiness. Summer of ’16, I realized tags are unnecessary and it is the fear of the end of something, anything that ruins the magic of the experience.

I wrote my heart out and found solace in the same. Summer of ’16, I realized writing is my favourite escape.

Summer of ’16, I found happiness in the little things.

Summer of ’16, I finally healed.



Hello, happiness

Maybe you were just looking in all the wrong places.
Maybe you forgot about finding happiness in the small things.
Maybe you forgot how blissfully calming that first sip of tea in the chilly mornings could be. Or how perfectly cozy you felt curled up and sleepy under your soft, warm quilt. Or the smell of old books, new books, books. Or your dog’s happy eyes when you come back home, having missed you terribly all day long. Your cat snuggling in your lap and falling asleep, a perfect fit there; soft happy purrs comforting your soul. Your mom’s cooking, a whiff you catch on your way past the kitchen. Your mom’s smile. Your dad’s rare, hearty laugh.
The excitement waiting for the pizza delivery man and that rush in your happy heart when the doorbell finally rings. Long telephone conversations with your long time best friend who’s miles away, the joy in telling her every little detail about the changes in your life. A new crush, hours spent stalking his facebook, that guilty pleasure at secretly storing all his best pictures. Candid pictures capturing genuine, heartfelt smiles. Old photographs. Walking by the tall bookshelves in an old library that has forever, its romantic charm. Walks under the moonlit sky in your favorite sweater, rubbing your palms to keep your cold fingers warm. Star watching. Star watching with a friend. In person or over the phone. The smell of the earth that follows the first rains. Dew falling off young, green leaves. Waking up to the sunrise. Falling asleep to soft music. The feel of coffee beans. Reading old, happy conversations. Pampering yourself, indulging in yourself, splurging on yourself. Brunch with your best friends. That perfect steak with that perfect barbeque sauce. That genuine, elated smile on your friend’s face on opening a carefully, thoughtfully planned birthday gift. Finding good new music. Finding an old favorite song. Finding an old birthday gift that you’d kept away in a secret place to come across later. Old journals. Writing with fountain pens on handmade paper, that beautiful light spread of royal blue ink. New, pretty  notebooks you vow to write all your wild thoughts and record all your favorite new memories in.
Creating memories. Travelling to a new place that excites you and your every sense. Taking risks, the exhilaration that accompanies it. Realizing how absolutely lucky and fortunate you are for just being alive and healthy.
And you thought being happy is difficult.


But you have what I can never have.
You have his heart.
And I may try, but he will never be mine. I can enchant him temporarily but that is all I will ever be for him, an object of lust, a lust that will fade over time and turn us into partial strangers, devoid of any real feelings for each other but with soft memories of uninhibited passion and good times till we grow apart and i can hold on no longer.
You ask me why I held on despite coming to realise the truth about you, despite finding out all his lies. Because like a fool, I’d never given up on hope. I thought he’d realise the intensity of my feelings for him and choose me over you. I had fallen so hard, so foolishly. But you are things I will never be, you are everything he has ever wanted and you are capable of making him happy in a way I never could. And he, is a darned fool.


I crave your presence.
I crave it, here, right now, this moment, as I stand here by this white framed window; moist breeze caresses my skin and I look out at the rain that pours down.

I’d have you sit in an armchair, hand you a mug of hot cocoa, settle on your lap, bask in your warmth and enjoy the vista outside this window, your arm around me and bliss in our hearts. We’d savour this in silence, our best moments together almost always are. Summer rains are so utterly beautiful. That smell of rain we spoke about the last time you were here, the whiff that follows the first droplets hitting the parched, brown earth; the air is replete with the same and I crave your presence.
If only you were here.


And when the tears roll down and you’re too sad to even speak, I’ll hold you to my bosom, cocoon you in my warmth. I’ll rock you softly, whisper to you that everything is going to turn out okay. Touch my lips to your forehead, plant a million soft kisses. I won’t let you go.
I’ll hold on tight till you drift off to sleep. And then I’ll lay you gently beside me, kiss your swollen, tender eyelids. I’ll put my arm around you, listen to the soft beats of your heart and feel your warm breaths till I drift off to sleep myself. It breaks my heart to see you sad, every tear that rolls down your cheek clutches at my heart. I’ll be as gentle as you want me to.
People with hearts as big as yours deserve a love as deep as the oceans, infinite like the universe. Let down your walls, let me in, let me help you heal.