Quarter life crisis and sexy-sexy (non-existent) boyfriends!

My pumpkin pies!

I think Quarter life crisis has struck me bad! While it's obviously one of the worst things to happen, a teeny tiny part of me, loves how filmy it makes my life sound. Well, Chic-flickish to be precise. So grab a bowl of popcorn and listen to me rant rather dramatically about why the feeling of dumpey-ness has been shamelessly following me around.

Well, I used to think I was the 'girl with the plan'. I'm suddenly not so sure anymore. If I don't spend the rest of my life writing, my soul will die and disintegrate. But if I spend my entire life only writing and nothing else, then my self worth with die and disentegrate. I will wake up every morning, feeling like a useless, worthless, potato of a person who has done nothing. Achieved nothing! So I have a long list of other things that I simply have to do. But the list is so long that I don't know how I'm going to do all of it. If I pay more attention to one, I'll feel like I'm neglecting the other. If I try to do the thing I'm neglecting, there will be some fifty other things biting me slowly at the back of my head leading to a serious cause of mental explosion. And if I try to do justice to all of them, my entire being will die and disintegrate. All that and more before I'm old enough to suffer from mid-life crisis!

Omg! This system! So much pressure! I don't even know what PG program I am going to do next year. Or which Universities I should be looking at. Should I even be doing a PG program next year or should I jump to join the first company that offers me an amazing job? Should I work and then study? Study and then work? Or should I work, study and handle being a bag-wali side by side?

What about money? Will I make enough to live the life of a splurgina? Will I find happiness in whatever I do? Will I be healthy at the same time? Or will I find a desk job that swells me to the size of a char bacho wali ma? Will I find a hot-as-hell boyfriend? Will I move in with him or get married right away? Will I find a sexy-sexy husband or will I have to depend on my folks to hook me up with a rich balding guy who'll throw a lavish wedding in return for pressing his feet for the rest of my life and running towards him with a glass of water everytime he screams Lajo-Lajo(or whatever shady name he'll come up with) ?

So as of now, I basically feel like the dumpey protagonist, who is sitting on an arm chair wearing pink sweatpants, stuffing herself with her 48th bowl of chocolate ice-cream and listening to some very melancholy music, worrying herself sick about how and when and where and if and but , everything will fall into place.

But but but, since it is a chick-flick, everything has to get sorted out no? So let's say the gorgeous actress will wake up to find a swanky pink car in her garage, an appointment letter from Vogue sitting by her bedside and drop dead gorgeous boy, who has climbed in through the window to confess his undying love for her. The two of them will break into song and dance. The heavens will bring forth rain in the hot Summer. Everybody will live happily ever after!


And that my dear friends is the end of my story.
So long!
More wishful thinking later :D

Of Nostalgia and the rains

On most days, I feel like I'm pretty strong.
But on days like these, I marvel at how I manage to fool myself.

All I want to do right now, is curl into a big arm chair with a steaming cup of hot chocolate, so I can have you sit next to me and talk about all the things I love, while watch that rain go pitter-patter from my window sill.

Funny thing this nostalgia.
It makes the most disconnected souls crave for familiarity and for love.

Do you remember that day?

Do you remember that rainy Monday afternoon.
It wasn't just another Monday afternoon was it?
It certainly didn't feel like that.
Not after what you told me the night before.

It was also the day I wore my new jeans with my Scottish pinafore.
I couldn't stop ranting about it.
It was so easy to talk to you about the most random things.
So easy infact, I don't think I gave you a chance to talk at all that day.
I knew you wanted to say something.
I wish I had let you say it.

Then we stepped out for a bit.
It was a break from the study session.
Never mind that the 'studies' bit was an just another excuse to see each other.
I had the irresistible urge to grab your hand and pull you into the rain.
I didn't know what I liked more...
The thought of feeling the rain on my skin or walking by your side in what seemed like the most magical rain of the season.

But you grabbed my hand and pulled me into the car instead.
You said something about not wanting me to wander alone in the rain.
And then you looked at me like you were about to say the same things you did the night before.
I know I wanted you to say them.
Though I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear them yet.
I don't know why we were always so unsure of ourselves.

I keep wondering till this day if things would have turned out differently, had I grabbed your hand and taken you away instead.
The 14 of Feb, is just around the corner, and I don't know if I should say this, but I'm going to miss you a little even if I deny it.