Bombay Rains

Dear me, I don't know how old you are and what you're doing but you're awesome.If you're ten, then relax. you're not fat; nowhere as fat as you will become. But it doesn't matter really. Once in a while it will hurt but ignore it, it will pass. And the summer of 2011 will hopefully change that *fingers crossed*. If you're twelve and trying to deal with the presence of Anurag in your life; don't. He's not worth it. He is not a best friend because like all the other defense kids, he leaves and doesn't keep in touch. This letter wasn't to depress you. Sorry. 2002 me; thanks for starting writing. That Russian mafia story is still good. Maybe I should start work on it again. You have two very amazing best friends who love you more than anything and will do anything for you; as you will for them. You're doing English Literature and you love it. You write and are actually appreciated. You are a person, people turn to for help and advice a...

On my tumblr; i'm doing an open letter challenge. i don't know how many will i write and how many of those would be truthful but still. here goes.

*write a letter to someone/anyone* When I first saw this on my tumblr challenge, I thought of writing this letter to my imaginary/future boyfriend; asking him to get here soon. just like all the girls my age i wonder if i'm normal to have not had the inclination to like anyone yet. then i decided i need to set things straight with my best friend whom i dont talk to very frequently. but then again, i can just call her. for the last one week i've been deliberating on getting you something. to thank you for the last two years in college. basically, a book. but you've probably read everything that exists. i thought i'd ask susan ma'am but she'd probably tell you and then you wouldn't let me. so i figured i'd write you a letter. when i joined this college i had serious doubts. i didn't want ot end up in a college in chennai, no matter how academically good it is. i wanted to go to bombay, to xaviers. i was anyhow doing literature. i didn't think...

*1987* "i can't believe we're pregnant together. I can't believe we're having our babies together!" "yes! best friends forever." "that will always be a lame term nitya.""i know. can't help it. it makes me laugh every single time pooja!"         * *1991* "cake!" "hold on vaibhav! it's not going to materialize itself!" "CAKE!CAKE!CAKE!" "VAIBHAV, AHANA. Stop it both of you!" "but we waaaaant caaaake!" "why did we ever have kids pooja? our lives were so much easier." "i know. i know. don't remind me."         * *1999* "mum, could you hurry up?! I have to go!" "ahana. you're not going to paris. you're going for ice cream with vaibhav. will you relax?!" "but muuuum! He's buying me ice cream! for the first time in so many years! and we get to go without you AND aunty! it IS a big deal!" "oh ...

"I don't like you." "who the hell likes you?!" and she walked off. One day. One day i will hack her to tiny little pieces and stand and laugh. and i will be the happiest person alive. That nauseating; suffering idiot will have died and i could then live my life in peace. yes, i hate her. and you probably are right now going: wha-? So i will tell you everything. starting with that floating piece of fluff's name. her name is namrata. we're family friends. now we study together. she detests me. i hate her with a passion i never knew i possessed. but why? one asks us, quite often. why? because that foolface is my best friend. and no one infuriates me more.                    * jackass. jackass. such a jackass! what the hell! I gets the highest mark, he fails. and it is my fault?! oh yes, because i study. and i'm supposedly a "floating piece of fluff". jackass!!!!! who? arjun. family friend and now "best friend". ...

see, the thing about love stories is that there is always a template. boy meets girl girl meets boy they fall in love might have a fight( if you're going for the indian version) one might cheat on the other (if you want to take a cheap shot at love) they work it out because of their all-consuming love for each other. but what if love wasn't so easily defined? so easily found? what if you passed that "one true love" as they call it; lived parallel lives but never met? In college there is a clear status order. wildly popular. mildly popular. not popular. aliya was mildly popular. arjun wasn't. not even a bit. He studied. got proficiency; and was in love with post its. she spoke too fast; had a zillion friends and never knew him. different classes; different lives, destined never to meet. but they did; one fine day. aliya was taking photographs of unknown people being really good at it. arjun, sitting afar was holding a discourse on vain people, tell...

some say death is scary. some say that when death comes for them, they will look him in the eye and tell him to bugger off. no one really does. most just sleep right through it. everyone close their eyes- no one wants to see death truly. death comes in many ways- stealthily, unexpectedly but no one ever expects death. no one but frank. frank simply put was an oddball. ofcourse he would take great offense at that statement. i can just hear him- "excuse me sir! i am many things, an oddball i am not!" who cares. frank was an old man who had been through all of life's circus. he had earned, worked and just when it was his turn to truly live- someone tried to kill him. it wasn't a very smart attempt i must say- scallops filled with peanuts. frank was deathly allergic to peanuts; he ended up spending a month in the ICU. but then on, he was on his guard, yes he was. not a waking moment was spent not alert. and the nights- yes.... the nights were spent in dreams. dream...