RassMalaai Rites

When I come to think of it, it doesn't seem that simple. This summer, when I came back home and saw Mom all hustled up about behen’s shaadi , the preparations she has already started, I was highly taken aback. Not at the moment, but after sometime when in the night, after having consumed a lot of Nutella and watching random Friends’ episodes, I was about to fall asleep. It was the music that made me think. Not immediately, though. It first made me think of a partner for myself. You know, boyfriend types. The one for me. The one I would hang out with. The one with whom I would have long chats on the phone or anywhere else. But I guess, a lot of that feeling is induced. A lot of it finds its way into me because I see other people doing it. But somewhere, I do want it too. Who that will be, is a different question altogether. I know I have friends. I know they are there for me. But then, you always like to have someone special. And much of what resists me from going into a...

What do you do in such a situation? You have, at one hand a bundle of enjoyment, all what you want, all what you seek for, all what you wished for, all what you desire and on the other hand, you have your parents. Looking at you with a smile. With all the trust in their eyes. The sun shining behind them. Trust. What are they trusting you for? I guess, every parent trusts their kid. It’s just that none of them including mine give a hand out of guidelines as what to do and what not to. I guess one would feel guilty of having broken a parent’s trust when one is not very sure of doing a thing. There are many things which seem a bit not do-able when you come to think it from your parent’s point of view. But then, there are a few things which if done, some other things are put in jeopardy, then comes the question of breaking that trust. What is right for you in such a situation? It is not enough that your parents trust you and place their confidence in you. This process of placing tru...

Sometimes, like now, I wonder why do all of my posts seem like confessions, venting-out, anti-depression self help guides. There has been no actual employment of an effort to make it so. Does it necessarily imply that I remain vexed all the time? Am I like this pathetic vermin who has no other better job in the world than cribbing?  See, I am treading that line again. Well, let's make a conscious effort of not being so. Let's try not making this forum a discussion about the anxieties (sexual or otherwise) of my life. Like right now, I feel very light and buoyant. You know where I actually derive this buoyant feeling from? Getting down to specifics, it is that plain texture of the cloth on that perfectly plain and tender torso. You know, the feeling you get when you see a very casual loose shirt worn by someone who has a flat stomach, a well, not well-built, formed chest, so that the shirt does not fit tightly on to him but hangs loosely around his body. It's like h...

Date: 15 th February, 2012 Time: 00:09 A.M. **, I have no idea that you have ever had an idea of what I am about to say. Maybe, you had but it must have just been a passing idea which you must have shrugged off in disbelief. But I do believe, that you have had atleast an ounce of the belief, at least once, no? Please, don’t insult my intelligence by a denial. Let’s start with the facts. Place: ****’s house at ********, on the roof. Moment: That song, on which we danced, hugging, closely and you whispered into my ears – “I wish I was [it should have been ‘were’, though] ***”. (there were many such moments to follow) Aftermath: A warm feeling inside me emerged, to continue holding you tightly and never let you go. I rushed to the loo and sat there for half an hour thinking, I don’t know what. I coughed, felt nauseated and nostalgic the very next moment. I know, nostalgia is something that is a remembrance of something long back……but it did seem a...

I know, to a certain extent, that I am not going to meet him again. Is it for good? Or was it stupid of me to miss the opportunity? One thing is sure, he wanted it and he knew that I somewhere wanted it too. He knew it. Obviously, if anyone else had been in my place, then he would have reacted, and reacted vehemently. But this was new, something completely new!  I was terrified, to be completely honest. I was excited too. I wanted it too. He was hot, I mean in the rugged sense though. But I don’t know. Maybe he had some other motive. My heartbeat was running at some speed I didn’t know. The tickle was the inception. I was aroused at that very moment. My trouser zip would have burst if he had continued. First, I thought it was just an accident and he had no intention. But then he stared. Continuously. As if he was waiting for a reply. Some reply. In some form. Maybe a smile. Some affirmative eye movement. Something! I was too confused to reply. In any form. I tried looking at him...

A multitude of opinions streaming through from everywhere, from everyone, from unexpected quarters, from unknown corners, from someone I didn’t care about ,about someone I have come to care about. In this muddle, lies the innocent choice. The choice slashed at by these opinions but a choice that still remains. A choice that gives me some amount of pleasure at some undefined moment, a choice that comes up with a surprise, a choice that makes me look forward to it, a choice that gives me the hope that I have made the right choice. But the opinions. Opinions presenting something contrary to my perception. Not always contrary because somewhere deep down I know the opinions are true but the choice? What’s true and false about a choice? What’s wrong and right about a choice? Isn’t a choice a choice and only a choice and remains the choice despite the decreeing of value judgments on it? But is it this simple? Is the choice completely unperturbed by opinions? Do opinions have no value? Re...

It was a moment of pride. A moment of validation. A moment where my choice was given authentication by one of my kind (It's as if we're some species about to get extinct). But it was also a moment which I had anticipated. Also, a moment I had feared. A moment where my envy would begin. A point of time, after the passing of which, I wanted to be possessive. But that's when all I wanted to be and do, came crumbling down. I sound terribly romantic, but the fact is that I don't feel all that I thought I would have. It's good no? <Do blog posts have to be short?, I mean I don't feel like writing anymore, but I feel as if it's incomplete> Today at 10:15 P.M., my love for him increased all the more, reached a point wherefrom I could not view him from the angle I had viewed him and had been viewing him since some time. I think its the music that's pushing the feeling all the more. And it is the music that makes me say, " I love you, m...