Friday, March 28, 2014

Leave me bruises, leave me breathless.

After a while, you get somewhat addicted to the pain. Not that you would go and hammer a nail on your palm, but you strain out a certain painful pleasure thinking about it. You are repelled by your growing temptation towards pain. You think that you can't take the pain anymore but a part of you knows that you can take much more than this. Patiently you listen to them telling you it will work out, that it will be alright. You nod your head in agreement. Somewhe deep inside you a voice questions, what if.. it doesn't work? what if.. everything don't turn out the way you want? what then? Your stubborn belief for a happy ending, a positive outcome trembles ever so lightly.
Many a time you think your heart cannot take it anymore, that it will explode unless you vent it out. You think of the last time you cried your heart out and you can't remember when. Every now and then, your eyes brim with wasteful briny tears threatening to wreck the walls of your sanity. You swiftly wipe them off because you are too practical and concerned about your congested nose later on!
So you don't cry. You dream of good times..make fervent plans, too far in your future. Then, retreat back fearing what if they don't come true. Then just like that, you are overshadowed by despair and what ifs. The despair pushes right through you. Just for a second, you let it seep into your cells. It feels so good to wallow in self pity. You have been through so much. You deserve so much better. It feels almost blissful to just sit and pity yourself. Snap out of it, you think. You heave three long breaths and convince yourself, you feel much better. You push them all out. Out of your system, the good thoughts and the bad ones.
You float through it all. The pain, the sorrow, the disappointments, the paranoia becomes a part of who you are. You can no longer separate yourself from them. Some days you let them consume you, leaving you breathless. On good days, you wear them around like battle wounds. You dream of a day the wounds and violet green bruises would just be a faint scar. You would trace your finger on the scars, reminisce your battle days. You also dream to miss the pain pulsing through you. You long to look back and think you were strong even when you thought you were weak. You were persistent even when you thought you couldn't go on.
You wait for all that to happen. While right now, pain flows freely through your veins.


Saturday, March 15, 2014

Reading Minds

It would be a blatant lie if you said you spent every waking hour thinking of her. You didn't. You have a life, your own things to worry about. At the same time, it's not that you didn't think of her. You so did. She had this knack of creeping into your thoughts. Unannounced and demanding, she would enamor your whole being. It never ceases to amuse you how even the most mundane things seem to remind you of her.
A long forgotten song would straight away take you to the sleepless nights you both spent talking on the phone. Time spent simply listening to her voice. After what seems like minutes, she would fall asleep and the call not yet disconnected. You do not disconnect, you spend some more time listening to her light snoring. She would deny it with a vengeance if you ever told her about the snoring. A random fragrance would remind you of her scent. You were not sure whether it was her perfume or her shampoo. Heck, you didn't even know how to describe the fragrance. Was it fruity or flowery? A whiff and you had her gushing through you.
You would be going about living your humdrum life, when your mind is bombarded with her thoughts. It would suddenly and  inevitably light up every cell in your being, like fireworks on a moonless night. You would smile, shake your head in slight disbelief. How can an unassuming girl steal your mind and leave you aching for the next time you meet.

You realize that you are an absolute cliche when it comes to her. You would be reading and before you realize, you had been reading the same line for the past five minutes. Yet again, she has come and conquered your thoughts. Her laughter, her insecurity over her laughter. The way she averts her eyes when she catches you staring. You love how easily she blushes. Little pink splotches on her pale face. She is a shy girl but pretends otherwise.
You could barely hide your surprise, how easily she took your hand for the first time and held them. Taking the 2 steps between you both, she had held your face, smiled self consciously and proceeded to take your breath away by kissing you. You had given so much thought about your first kiss and never expected it the way it turned out. Thinking about the kiss you wonder, whether it was you who was the shy one! You wonder how you both clicked. You were both as different as night and day. In your mind, she would be the night. A starlit night in the woods with the moon in all its glory.
 She asks you, do you ever think about me when we are not together? You almost laugh out loud at the absurdity of the question and answer yes, ofcourse you do. You notice that her smile has faltered. She has most likely misinterpreted your lame grin. She remains quiet, silently urging you to continue. She expects more than that. You don't say anything more. She is obviously disappointed. If only she could read your mind.

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Book Review - Etched On Me

Title: Etched On Me.
Author: Jenn Crowell.  
Publisher: Simon & Schuster | Atria Books.
Year of Publication: 2014.
Format: E-book.
Pages: 336.
Source: Publisher | NetGalley.
Genre: Realistic Fiction, Contemporary, Women-Fiction, Adult-Fiction, Psychology.
Blurb: Here.

My Thoughts:
I'm trying to form the right words to describe this book. Etched on Me is not an easy read. You can't just sit on a comfy chair and read it with a million other things in your mind. Trust me, the pages won't turn. This book demands your undivided attention. Reading this book is painful. A book which does not shy away from the all too real problems. Etched On Me is about the journey of a young girl, Lesley Holloway. Her life is anything but normal. Being subjected to repeated sexual abuse from a parent to whom a child is most vulnerable is a beyond doubt horrifying. This knocked the wind right out of me. Many a time I had to close the book, take deep breaths and urge myself not to be terrified by the rawness of the book.

Lesley lives with her abusive father and her mother who turns a blind eye to these horrors! With a trembling resolve she decides enough is enough, takes a huge scary step and runs away from her house. To my complete relief, after Lesley escapes from her house she finds herself with a wonderful support group. An empathetic teacher Mrs Kremsky, her case worker Francesca who fights for her case to name a few. The author does not present Lesley as a perfect girl. To cope with her abuse, she starts self harming which lands her in a rehab center. Here, love blooms for young Lesley in the form of Clare. It's not rose petals from there on just in case you thought, this was the happy ending. The writing, thankfully was not too graphic. The little the author did describe left burning welts in my heart. The writing is very realistic to say the least. It's like the author is shaking you by the shoulders and demanding you to listen.
I loved every bit of Lesley. I wanted to hug her. Everything about her made the book come to life for me. It rarely felt like a story. If the author had portrayed Lesley as a perfect person who jumped right back to normal, the book would sounded pretentious. Instead Lesley makes mistakes. Sometimes she is ungrateful and bitter to the people who are there to support her. Sometimes, she dwells in self pity, aching for her old bedroom and its familiarity. 
An unexpected pregnancy takes Lesley by surprise. Now the same people who saved her from her abusive father have become her enemies. What would happen to her unborn daughter and Lesley? 
Without giving away any spoilers, I can say that this book is unapologetic, emotional, dark and ends with hope. It will make you cower in fear along with Lesley, it will make you bask in the warmth of Mrs Kremsky's love. It will make you cry with joy.  If you like flawed characters who had to go through hell and still rise like a phoenix from its ashes, then this book is for you. Personally I feel every woman should read this book.

 My Rating:
Rating Policy


Sunday, March 9, 2014

Happy Pills

Blow soap bubbles.
Swing lazily on a swing, enjoy the wind in your hair and reminisce your childhood.
Watch a rare starlit sky with no street lights or car headlights to hinder the view.
Walk barefoot on dewy grass.
 Wear a flower wreath as a crown and own it like a boss, no matter how weird you look.
Sing a ballad and manage to sound decent.
Ride on a carousel.
Lie on the lush grass on a sunny day, soak in the sunshine and for once not be bothered about SPF or a bad sunburn.
Rejoice. Spring is nearby.
Wear a pretty nail color and it doesn't chip for 3 straight days!
Eat cotton candy.
Read a book in the shade of a tree.
Harry Potter.
Dance like a klutz.
Have a good long cry fest.
Laugh heartily. Who cares if you don't look dainty then?!
Forgive yourself.. you are too hard on yourself.
To know how to cook atleast one of your favorite dishes.
Barbecue with friends.
Food, period.
Have a drink or two. Just enough to give you a buzz and not a heavy hangover the next day.
 Stare at the ceiling / wall  and think nothing. 
Long skype calls with Mom & Dad.
The rare time-zoned screwed, midnight / midday calls with your bestie.
Old bookstores.
Steaming hot coffee TheBetterHalf makes every single day.
Books. Stacks of books.
Songs like these.

P.S - The look of the blog has been tweaked. Notice anything ?
Pardon the randomness. It has been a long and severe winter and I can't wait for Spring. Temperatures slowly creeping above zero degree Celsius. Excited for longer days, colorful tulips, lot of green and warmer climates.