Left with half a heart – #HalfGirlfriend

This is the story of a beloved friend of mine who knowingly lost the most precious man she ever knew. Her name is withheld for obvious reasons and the other two characters in her life have been given fake names. Hope you find her story to be agonizingly painful, just like I did.  

  

Pain pierced through her like fire licking her nerves, she stayed still for more than a minute and that disconcerted those in her company. James, her brother’s best friend since childhood and her unsolicited crush. He sat there in all his glory, with a dusky beauty on his arm and basking in new found loveClearly, he had moved on or she had become insipidShe blew her chance with the one man she cared about because she never had the balls to consecrate their relationship.  

Sleepless nights of wondering what they were and if it could remotely turn into something more were incinerated to nothing. She chose to remain devoted to being his half girlfriend although countless scenarios played through her mind. Now, she could cross it off the list as there was no more a significant ‘other’ to begin with. Her blanket of joy and comfort was stripped. Nothing would come close to the feeling of Jimmy‘s arms around her. He was no longer her human shield laced with love and ferocity. The dam of tears will break free and there would not be a single soul to wipe a drop away 

James Woods was man of honor, full of life and so much love to give. He was there for in her when she was in dire need of a shoulder to cry on, drowning in misery. A shield of protectiveness when her own brother had abandoned her. He was there to catch her fall, he was the one who pieced her family back together when all went to shit. The bridge between her wretched brother, Anthony and her bastard self. Why did he blame her, she had no idea! Their father was the one who opted adultery over a beautiful family he could have saved and cherished. When blames were being thrown around like dodge balls, Jimmy was always there, her half-boyfriend and the silver lining.  

Years of having indulged in a half relationship, she never once stopped to appreciate the bond she had with the exquisite man. He was a giver and she just gobbled everything he had to give. She had been his half girlfriend and she soaked in the comfort of that thought. The solace of his kisses and words were no longer hers to bear. Having beheld the sight of another woman fortified in his warmth shattered her soul. Alas, she had been as blind as a bat.

“I am sharing a Half relationship story at BlogAdda in association with #HalfGirlfriend” 

 

 

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#9 3WW – Abandoned, Babyish, Cunning

This week’s writing prompts for Three Word Wednesday are:

Abandoned, adjective: deserted, forsaken, cast aside/off; jilted, stranded, rejected; informal dumped, ditched, unused, disused, neglected, idle; deserted, unoccupied, uninhabited, empty, uninhibited, reckless, unrestrained, wild, unbridled, impulsive, impetuous; immoderate, wanton.

Babyish, adjective: childish, immature, infantile, juvenile, puerile, adolescent.

Cunning, adjective: crafty, wily, artful, guileful, devious, sly, scheming, designing, calculating, Machiavellian; shrewd, astute, clever, canny; deceitful, deceptive, duplicitous, foxy; noun: guile, craftiness, deviousness, slyness, trickery, duplicity; shrewdness, astuteness.

Fingers tugging at your hair,

seamless, needy, fragile,

the pads revelling rhythmically,

a cocoon of comfort,

abandon the night terrors,

bloody punches and purple bruises,

close your eyes,

think of me,

I am right here, darling,

focus on my fingers,

encase your babyish face,

kissed by the sun

beneath the sporadic clouds,

hear my sweet song,

lull you to sleep,

know peace, my love,

you are safe,

away from the cunning hands,

no one can hurt you now,

you are safe, with me.

This post is a part of  Three Word Wednesday (3WW)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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My Jug – #DearZindagi

“Life is an awful, ugly place to not have a best friend.” ― Sarah Dessen

459 friends on Facebook.

344 followers on twitter.

185 followers on Instagram.

Numerous contacts online on WhatsApp.

But there is only one friend who listens to my rants at three am in the morning and that ‘four am’ friend is Pooja Sathyanarayanan.

She is tall, geeky, bespectacled and has just the right amount of crazy in her. A psych grad who manages to squeeze boyfriends, workload and resolving my problems with magical solutions which help me liberate my emotions into her ultra-busy schedule. It may seem like a simple deed, but to be there for someone in time of their need is beyond anything you can hope for.

I have a nasty habit of verbally abusing people and underrating them constantly, just to keep them grounded. They don’t seem to realize the healthiness of the act and they fail to see that I reserve that kind of love for people I like. Pooja is mostly entertained by new ways I discover to abuse her and she laughs it off with a fake ‘ha-ha’. The best quips largely revolve around her ginormous frame and how uncomfortably bony her shoulders are that you can’t lean on them during desperate times.

Though it physically hurts me to say this, her levelheadedness and tranquillity serve as a voice of reason in my most desperate times. She is my one stop solution for all my psychological therapeutic needs. I have no qualms about sharing my deepest and darkest fears and insecurities with this nut head. In a sea of judgmental and derisive people, she is a refreshing breath of genuineness. Isn’t that what we all crave, a friend who doesn’t judge you and accept you for who you are! Someone who is always there for you and embraces the madness and blasphemous culture with your influence.

This child of joy has been torn from my arms and cast into the chasms of the fiery pit called the U.S. However, she is having the time of her life, partying all night long and carving pumpkins for Halloween. I remember urging her to “see the world” because my maternal instinct kicked in and I couldn’t help myself but sound like a total mom. This is an appreciation post for my nerdiest pal, Pooja (and belated happy birthday to you, love). She is the sanest person I know, just a year older than I am, someone, who doesn’t shy away from trying new things, a daredevil in her own way, a fierce friend, and MY JUG. I love you, you wolf in sheep’s clothing, for being my jug for the past five years and having the heart to not quit being so.

 

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am writing about Jug in my life for the #DearZindagi activity at BlogAdda.

Zest for Life – #DearZindagi

 ‘A tree without roots is just a piece of wood.’ – Marco Pierre White

 Dear Zindagi,

My old friend, a comrade in arms and partner in crime, I finally get a chance to address this special letter to you. What a journey it has been! Twenty-three years and counting, there is still so much work to be done. The real enemy is time, though, ever so ready to snatch the treasured moments from right under my nose. But you were the true master, perpetually bestowing zen lessons through every encounter. You permitted my emotions to be ensnared and tampered with, just to enlighten me of the possible threats in the future. I believe I am in a phase of acceptance and understanding (not entirely though). There was always a reason, a motive or a valuable moral behind all those incidents which passed me by. Only I was too foolish and arrogant to see or affirm the truth.

There is a thought that echoes through my head, through intense pain comes power. Pain is an ally and a foe, it makes you do the inconceivable. Zindagi, you have given me more pain than pleasure and yet I stand sewn together in one piece. You have taught me that nothing comes without a price and that beautifies the experiences. I have asked myself numerous times, what am I willing to pay to put a smile on the faces of the ones I love. The answer is – pain, sadly.

Eons of searching

has led to this moment

I live and breathe

with a shred of happiness

impermanent,

flawed,

wedging a fire into my blood

let me run

and feel

life

so, beautiful,

yet catastrophic.

The morose events are not all that you are made of, Zindagi. I hope to God that it is not the inevitable end. Blissful memories do resurface now and then. Like the time when my first crush smiled at me and my heart palpitations enhanced tenfold or when my class won the Annual High-School Cook-Off by making prawn biriyani. It is the little things that matter, that makes you grin whenever you think about how daft you were. My past bosomed immeasurable recklessness, youthful relentlessness, and exuberant love affairs with celebrities, book characters, and random strangers (in my head). That was the kind of happiness I was exposed to, residing in my perfect bubble of oblivion.

The present, however, is a completely different scenario. Evidently, you know about my sole reason of existence, my eighteen-month-old daughter. I recall a powerful quote by one of the most hated characters on the show Game of Thrones – “The more people you love, the weaker you are. You’ll do things for them that you know you shouldn’t do. You’ll act the fool to make them happy, to keep them safe. Love no one but your children.”  There is so much depth in this quote, it depicts her true nature as a lioness (Of the House Lannister) and the fierceness of her love. Likewise, the love I have for my kid is unrestrained and pure. What more can I ask of you, Zindagi?

Thank you, for such understanding parents and a bratty little brother who never fails to disrupt my patience. I thank you for giving me an incredible husband, who would stand by me at any cost. The memories I have made with my beautiful family will be forever stagnant in my brain. The friends I have made in this short span called lifetime, ceaselessly love me from near and afar. I am glad to have you alongside me in this wild ride. Thank you, Zindagi.

 

Yours.

 

Check out the teaser of the movie – Dear Zindagi which stars the scintillating Shah Rukh Khan and youth icon Alia Bhatt. This tangy combination is all set to blow your mind and looks like a clear winner.

“I am writing a letter to life for the #DearZindagi activity at BlogAdda”.

Dear 16-year-old me

Dear 16-year-old me,
Hey girl, how are you doing? I should tell you that I am in a great place right now, even though it is not the one you had sketched out for me. You were such a romantic and borderline foolish, God, I can still see it in my head. It is funny how we are both the same person yet I dissociate myself from you and view you as another entity.

 

I can’t begin to describe how selfish you were, always looking out for yourself and worrying about your fate. It’s crazy that we don’t even live in Dubai anymore because all the while we thought we would stay there forever by marrying a certain someone with a lot of wealth. It was all that you ever wanted, to drive around in a fancy car with “him” by your side and make everyone jealous of your fabulous life. Knock some sense into yourself because he is just a boy and he will never grow into the man you want to be with. Dream big and you will reach a point in life where you find some purpose, sort of. Don’t determine your worth by latching onto another person.
 Swear all you want, love, but it is the bitter truth. One piece of advice, never let anyone tell you that you are not good enough because you are yourself and that is all that you need to know. You have a long fight ahead of you and you will have to make choices that will rip your heart out. Watch out for the faux friends and their ridiculous smiles. But I can assure you that I am still obsessed with T.V shows because no one can take that kind of crazy away from us overnight! Make mistakes, though, only then will you realise your true passion.

 

Yours sincerely,
23-year-old you

dear-16-year-old-me-wow-2

‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’