A box of old pieces of paper. I have no idea why I saved them.

A letter I wrote to my grandfather when I first moved away. "I wonder if my language is different because I am writing to you" I wrote. "I don't know how formal I must be since I have never written an actual letter before." A few sentences before I read that, I think the same thing. I am surprised I don't remember either writing the letter or thinking that thought. I can't even remember where I wrote it; whether I posted it or handed it to him when I saw him. Did I write it so that I could find it later? Was this something I did so that I could be nostalgic about it later? I can't remember.

A notebook. There are less notes in it and more conversations with friends in class. "Lunch after?" "This is boring." "Do you have balance on your phone?" These seem to be staple conversations I had then. Most of the conversations are one-sided. I imagine that my friends' books are full of these as well. In some places, there are other people's handwriting. Loopy, clear and beautiful. A chicken scrawl. Large, child-like lettering. Long, skinny lettering. I know exactly who these people are. I miss them.

A postcard from a friend in a foreign country. She loves me and she misses me and she hopes she could have made this trip with me instead. I remember calling her when she was on this trip. She was washing her socks and underwear. "I ran out! I didn't want to buy new ones!" I laughed at her. What a thing to be doing in Barcelona - wash your socks! Significantly, I washed my socks on my holiday to Barcelona too. This postcard makes me want to call her.

A note a lover passed to me in class. In Hindi, it says "Don't call me dirty, Sitay!" I remember this day. My whole class took about a hundred photographs, and then went out for lunch after. I remember trying not to giggle when I got the note. I remember our professor admonishing us with a stare. I remember not caring. I remember sneaking into the toilet in the break to kiss. I remember laughing because our mouths tasted of too much bad coffee. When did I save the note, though?


day 21

Sunning in Bundelkhand!


vday 5

(alt title: day 20)

happiness is a corporate scam.  (there, i said it.)

i don't mean to make vikram seth's poetry a yearly tradition, but this felt like this year's theme.

here's to loving differently.

Through Love's Great Power 
by Vikram Seth 

Through love’s great power to be made whole
In mind and body, heart and soul –
Through freedom to find joy, or be
By dint of joy itself set free
In love and in companionhood:
This is the true and natural good.

To undo justice, and to seek
To quash the rights that guard the weak –
To sneer at love, and wrench apart
The bonds of body, mind and heart
With specious reason and no rhyme:
This is the true unnatural crime.


(find older v-day posts here: 2013, 2012, 2011 and my favorite, 2007. :) )


day 19

today was an accept-your-hair-the-way-it-is day.

(which translates into: shower/shampoo, auto, no comb, no scrunchie, sun, air-conditioning, auto, frizzzzzzzz-ugz.)

not sure if it made me happy, but it didn't make me sad.


loves me (not)

the anticipation
of a kiss.

(i might leave
lipstick stains
on the insides of your
white, collared shirts)

you leave me breathless.

(like i've climbed
four flights of stairs
just to hear
you laugh)

let's do something
stupid together
so i can write



day 18

ComicCon Delhi tried very hard to make me very very grumpy and irritable.

I'm glad to say it failed, and I am a happy beaming child.

Say hello to my signed copy of Daytripper by Fabio Moon and Gabriel Ba. :)


day 17

List of Things That Made Me Grumpy Today

1. Dear Delhi (cold and grey), did you really have to be this way?

2. Photocopying is so fucking expensive at Teen Murti. (Also, Book I Wanted, may be you could be available for download?)

3. Getting my already-wet-from-my-shower hair wet in the rain.

4. Not getting any writing done.

List of Things That Made Me Happy Today

1. One Whole Bar of Hershey's Milk Chocolate.

I feel like this happiness project is getting on my nerves. I'm going to be normal and grumpy for a while, okay?


day 16

Postcard Love! :)



why do we love,
may i ask you?

poetry leaves more
inside than full,

wounds that can never
really be healed:
that will never

why do we love,
i ask you,

and what of us
who don't?


day 15

Party time!

(Sometimes I amuse myself by being full of shit. This was not one of those parties.)