19 till I die

A good first impression is easy to make, Sustaining it is the problem.

Waking up in summers across the world means different things. In Delhi, if you sleep on the roof in a mosquito net, you wake up drowning in your sweat. On a jute string cot in Khategaon district in Madhya Pradesh, you wake up at 5 to flies droning loudly around your face. The flies must've been explorers in their last incarnation. They love the uncharted territory of your nostrils. In Sweden, you can see the Sun. Isn't that nice!? The Sun is not much of a problem here, in Bengaluru like it is say, in Hyderabad. Waking up in Bengaluru summers can be like waking up in a season different from the one in which you slept. I remember my first day in the new flat I rented. The landlord overlooked putting the fans up. It was a sultry night. Opening all the windows helped with ventilation a little, at least from the sides where a building doesn't stand at a handshake distance. The one hallway in the flat, between the bedroom and living room seemed coolest. That's where I spre

Deeptanu admits it to me in confidence. He's lonely. One can only admit this over a drink and despondency. So do about ten other friends who are literally half a world away from home, who aren't married yet. He was morose over beers yesterday. Years ago, we'd sit around lustily admiring girls who're smart and beautiful from a distance. The distance has been self imposed and self enforced. Deeptanu, the stupid bum gets attached easily and blames Bollywood movies and shayari for carrying his heart on his sleeve. Hence the distance. Never having seen real romance between adults, he bit the bullet and decided to experiment with online dating, six months ago. Which may not have been a good time, really. He couldn't have known. It was a whirlwind online romance. They started talking on a Wednesday and Deeptanu had her phone number by Thursday afternoon. Deeptanu was suspicious of how quickly this had progressed. He in fact wanted to Skype to make sure he was talking t

Incidents, events, sights and conversations from the past, both enthrall and torment me. None more so than those from my time in Dallas. I'd say it was because they are the most recent, but I'd be failing to acknowledge their vast spectrum. My mindscape has seen seasons of all feelings. My brain tends to filter in good memories. I wanted to process and air brush Dallas in my head as soon as possible. The past couple of months in Kansas City with my brother have helped me unwind and given me that familiness I really needed. They say reliving and reinforcing memories can change them. I see nothing wrong in using this phenomenon to my advantage. By choosing to do my favorite things in Dallas, I reinforced the happiness they brought me. By omitting things I disliked, I'd bury those memories without an obituary. Ze Milonga : Big D's Tango scene has remained pretty consistent over the years: Big, and fairly unchanging. I remember a new out of town dancer saying, she fel

Poema, She would lay on a page With infinite ease Crafted, coiffed and poised On a linguistic trapeze. She has a beat She has a rhythm She has style She has substance Her every syllable Lives in memory, indelible. She swings on emotions Giving meaning to being Cradling the thoughts I just wasn't seeing. Her words are warm Her words are kisses  Her words are dreamy To all she caresses. Don't hide in my mindscape, Let me give birth to you. For this page is barren, With no semblance of you. Her form is delicate, Her form just fits. For a thought remiss Just kills the bliss. My perfect Poema, I yearn for you. You float in the ether Amidst the stars somewhere. Come here from the heavens, And be forever near.