Prose before hos

Post-nap, Pre-bed sedatives

Feels like 90s supermodel in my head; strike a pose

Milk Chocolate Matte > Nutmeg Lips > Candy Kisses > Stolen and sloppy

What would Ghungroo have been like and would I have probably met the love of my life there, or would I have gone there post-divorce? Should I run a google search to understand the interiors so I can imagine that solo-fantasy land better?

Would have been a different life if my parents were the socialising kind and would do Ghungroo dates instead of cheesy, intimate shit they did

Should I convert ~~letters to him~~ journal into a web series skeleton? Who will play me? Ugh, I hope it's not a moral lesson on being fat and being in love with yourself because nobody including myself is in love with me. Ugh.

Man, how do I break the ice? Should I even break the ice? Is he genuinely sick of me or what the fuck? Should I ask him? I don't want to be an ass.

A warm touch of nutmeg coloured lips on the cheek, kissing me, an expired bath-oil fragrance that I hunt for in every person's touch and rarely ever find in my comfort zone

Old houses in South Delhi, comforting to know love exists even when people cease to

Liquid eyeshadow triumps all but my eyes have aged, I can feel it when I use make-up

Almost don't want to use make-up cause I can feel I have aged, with the skin really not behaving the way I'd like to

What happened to Natasha Singh and why didn't anyone write scathing pieces on the people who compelled her to do what she did and why did they instead hyperfixate on an SSR to the point it made me want to give up on the internet?

Why and how have I sucked at F1 fantasy this bad?

What did I have to google?

Why do I think the birthday gift I got is kinda lame and shitty. UGH.

WHY AM I ACTUALLY BROKE THIS MONTH AND HOW DID I SHOP LIKE THIS TO BE AT A POINT WHERE I OWE MY PARENTS MONEY AND HAVE MORE EXPENSES LINED UP?

What do I wear to my old school friend's wedding? I can't believe she invited me, what a doll.

Ugh, can't believe my friend from college turned out to be a sour puss. Wonder what everyone's wearing at the wedding?

Ugh, do I have anyone from college in my life besides Sinner? How have I become the Anurag Kashyap of my group when everyone has Barjatya lifestyle?

Shaloo is a dumb name but Sheetal is a pretty name.

I wonder if kids with the name "Shit" are bullied at school?

Why do I think of my school so often?

Sister Joyce telling me, "your eggs are flying" will never not be legendary. Especially around Easter.

Should I crash without wiping my make-up off and brushing my teeth? I'm sick and not like my boyfriend is caressing me to sleep so I need to look good in my comatose after-life.

That 5 pm nap was solid but waking up to a dry phone was like someone shot me in my head, unannounced. Bet Mr G felt the same way.

I'll miss my sister and I barely spent any time with her.

I barely did anything except be fucking sick and give everyone a scare about my health.

I should sleep.

0Comments

, by Snobster

In angry, boy bye

Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

0Comments

, by Snobster

In memories like mammaries,

Fleeting Joys

I'm chasing happiness in moments that I know I can never live again.

There used to be a small Dhaba near my place. Growing up, my parents would take my sister and I nearly every Tuesday for years . We'd order the same South Indian lunch and the owner along with his staff would feed us lovingly. I must have been 13-15 when we did this, and we carried this tradition out until the restaurant shut. I remember trying the alternative, another Dhaba in the same complex that never hit the same way. It wasn't the food (though I still dream of the lime pickle they served with their parottas) but it was a sense of feeling safe. Like, nothing could ever change or go wrong and everything would be the same.

I believe my mum chased this similar feeling about her going to school. I've always found it odd to hear her say how she loved her school and everything about it. My mum's had a difficult adult life, in hindsight it does make sense when I put things in perspective. Perhaps school is where she felt safe and that nothing could ever go wrong. Even if it did, it was under control.

The eating out ritual for me was the closest thing I experienced to love and spirituality as a shared familial bond. I don't think I trust temples or places of worship as much as I do with restaurants and food joints. It means we are going to forge a new layer of love and trust with each other over things I love. My mum always tells me that food is more important to me than it is to her, perhaps it's because it gives me a reason to wake up every day and fill my heart with hope that my soul might be nourished with an emotional bond in there, somewhere.

Earlier today, I passed several school buses with school children dressed in their uniforms. Definitely seemed like they were headed for some event (private bus, at an odd hour). I don't think I've focused on a school bus since trying to track my erstwhile crush in his school bus since I was 15 but I did observe the faces today—overjoyed, carefree and in oblivion. I can't say they'd feel the same but I can speculate that the distraction of a field day out of school could beat everything.

I remember looking forward to school picnics, a day we could be ourselves and find joy in connecting with people we called our own. The closest I've come to re-living that feeling is when I'm out with friends I love, cherish and trust. I spent the day with an old school friend (who's featured in these now archived posts from '07) and later with girls from college. I trust these people with my life, they've been there for me when I was thrown out of a house in a different city (long story) and when I was dumped on a WhatsApp text in class (long story).

Today, while I lived through the sinking feeling that my relationship is past its expiration date I felt a sense of life breathing into me with the girls through the day. It was nothing out of the ordinary; a catch up over Boba, another round of drinks with a different group at a rooftop bar and later, an unexpected text from an old school friend inviting me to her wedding and pre-wedding function ("I want you to network cause why not"). I felt grateful for everyone who made me feel safe and secure during a tough, unexpected period.

I don't know why but that lunch hang with my parents keeps coming back to me. Maybe, that's the last time I felt like everything will be okay and that there's going to be people I love and trust around me. In the last 48 hours I found my safe space disappearing and since then I'm holding on to every interaction with a sense of gratitude. On the plus side, I'm looking out for myself, something I'd lost the sight to see but god, I'm going to chase this sense of love lost when I'm past the grief for losing it.

I'll fondly remember the shared dictionary of love and camaraderie we built over time. I'll remember getting called out for being cold and I'll miss the cold hearts we exchanged as we got to know each other. I'll probably miss it all.

0Comments

, by Snobster

In my boy only breaks his favourite toys,

Lifeboat

Days get presumably shorter after my birthday. It's the one event that marks the end of Summer and usually the romance it brings. I could have been looking out for my Winter cuff but I'm well-fed, or so I thought.

"What does he mean when he says this?"

"It just means you need to look out for yourself and this isn't good news."

I cried uncontrollably. My whole body felt like it was going to break. There was a cake interruption. "Your sister is in town so we should do your birthday together" seemed like a novel idea till I realised I looked like I'm at my funeral in the cake-cutting photographs post. "How was your weekend?" Just spent in emotionally regulating myself, how about you? How else does one explain this eclipse season.

The journal saw a return, the support system was invoked. "Man, I'm so sorry to call you at this hour" interspersed with snots and sobs, friends' "We are giving it another shot" was marked with my interruption of, "I think he's calling things off."

At some point I found myself getting short, "If you want to call things off, just go ahead and do it. Don't go around in circles." Cold brew is a lie, I slept for 8 hours straight and woke up feeling spent, like I'd pulled an all nighter. He slept like a log, I'm grateful for that. He once told me that he can't get much sleep and it's rare for him to sleep through the night. "Must be the biscuits," he remarked. Has to be me, bitch. I fell for that one, right there.

A few years ago, a man had said same things to me which led to our long-incoming break-up; not the biscuits but whatever else was said.

I was surprised at my response when I revisited that conversation in the light of what happened between us. In a way, I had been cruel, but not without cause. This time around I was measured; emotional reactiveness low and emotional support high. I wish I could do the same for me. Instead, I slathered my legs with Almond Shower Oil and threw in the most expensive perfume with a t-shirt and nothing else. Not about to wear expensive make-up if I'm going to be broken up with, lessons from my 20s I carry within me. Despite that, felt like he's almost glad to see me disheveled. Perhaps, I wasn't as proud of my choice when I saw two Brat summer chicks walking past me in fancy af outfit. A lot for coffee, if I'd done but not so much to show that I still got it. Another day, another slay.

It was strange to hear the question that had been going in my head. One that I had cried answering earlier that evening, "because I don't think I could have done everything this year the way I did, without him," and when I heard that again, it took all the courage to not have my voice break. "Why do you look angry?" I don't know. I shouldn't have napped. I shouldn't have journalled so hard.

There were other questions, ones I wasn't prepared for. It's like going to school and finding out you have a surprise test, an oral recitation and you're grossly underprepared. I hadn't felt a lot of feelings nor had a chance to prepare a well-rounded answer. He was mindful to catch that within seconds, "getting fidgety, are we?" I could have hugged him in that second if I wasn't caught red-handed in my nervousness about not knowing an answer. Either way, seeing someone call me out and perhaps catch me unaware was refreshing.

Yet, there's a nagging feeling. I woke up feeling heavy. It shouldn't have been that way. I felt angry. If he knew he wasn't doing right by me then why was he still doing it? Was this a reminder that I deserve better or an acknowledgement that he hasn't stepped up yet? I should sleep. There was no cold-brew and I'm sleepier than usual. Maybe I'll wake up with another perspective, one that shapes this piece into the lack of editing and forming coherent dialogues and maybe I'll feel better soon.

Don't take things for granted, kids. One day someone's gonna come and take your lifeboat of hope away and you'll be floating with a unicorn float all alone in an ocean full of muck and dirt without anyone to save you.

Welcome to 33, you have no metabolism, no energy to give and no fucks left in you.

0Comments

, by Snobster

In airport, corporate hos

Robbie Williams & I just wanna feel

There's nothing stronger than the love confessions exchanged moments before your flight takes off. It's all you can think about when floating 44,000 feet in the air, munching on a day-old multigrain bread roll with cold Amul butter chiplet. Maybe, I'm a hopeless romantic, or maybe it's what I'm reminded of during PMS.

In my case, I was reading through Rafia's chat and her admission of love to the passenger on 4B. There was a moment where I felt genuinely lucky to experience love in close quarters, even though all of my heart was screaming at my share of admissions received moments before I turned my phone off, "you can have the burgers"

So much for carrying food and love back all the way. No takers, simply none.

Long ago, I'd asked him about airport romance. Having suffered a side-hug earlier that year with the man I was seeing and going back to it each time I wanted answers on closure ("It was right there and I was oblivious") his words rang tart, "Airport is one place where people are genuine."

Airports and hospitals.

I've seldom seen a prayer at a hospital and a love admission at an airport meaning otherwise. "Why couldn't it be me?" Had I run the stock of affection in my vault dry?

I came back fully exhausted, drained of life. I knew this was as good as it could get and that there was no way things would get any better. If anything, I felt my luck had run dry. Forget love, I couldn't get "come back soon".

But, life.

I came back to a humongous change in my professional life. A part of me was aware that what I'm leaving is what I'll see last of it, for very different reasons, and I came back to a whole different shuffle.

Everything the way I knew was over. Last year, I'd walked into the depths of hell unknowingly and this time, I've had a year to prepare for it. Everyone around me is thrilled and celebrating, but it's really just celebrating the beginning of the end. Last season of the show and we're walking to the penultimate episode.

Restarting a new profile professionally means a lot of things. You must give 10x the effort and 20x the patience to sustain and make new relationships.

As much as I wanna feel, can I please cherry pick what I'd like to feel first? Maybe, a crumb of emotion and affection like passenger on 4B had, or maybe, another opportunity to be in a flight and be grateful for all the times I've been by myself and experienced real joy.

0Comments

, by Snobster

In birthday, disasters

Calibrating Stars

At the cusp of 33, I've achieved so much and so little this year that it feels like there's been no movement when the rocket has actually run out of fuel. Agreed, most of this has not been towards tangible results but the lessons will go a long way, especially, the ones charted in holding myself together through really tough times.

One of my biggest regrets this year is that I've been nicer than I wanted to; out of obligation and mostly to hold on to things that I know were bad for me to deal with. I should have said a lot more fuck you-s and walked out of things and situations that were clearly meant to exploit me and yet, I stayed till I realised I'm not terrified of those. Things I would have ordinarily quit or run away from, I embraced wholeheartedly and let my hands get dirty. Perhaps, it was to ask myself, are you really running away from it without trying or are you scared of failing again. That one belief to not give up, cost me a lot

I wish I had been more of my 20s self, but that version made her mistakes and it's time to make fresh ones. Maybe, in my 40s, I'd regret not telling enough people fuck off and hate myself for holding on to hope but today, it felt like the right thing to do. In no way is this over, but I know that I'm exhausting myself with all my repeated efforts and attempts to turn situations around where I'm not dealt with the cards fairly or even at a level playing field. This includes professional and personal boundaries being eroded and trying my best to carry on day after day.

Earlier this year, I was suggested an astrologer. I suppose when you're a woman in your 30s who is without a partner, a child and a promotion, that's the most conducive socially acceptable idea to pass. I spoke to her over an email, broken WhatsApp text messages and two calls. At the end of a two-week cycle of trying to communicate with her, she opened up, "I've never seen stars like yours. You get nothing in life and whatever you do, it evades you. But, keep trying and don't give up."

For the first time, in a long time, I felt sorry for myself. I'd suffered major career setbacks, personal losses and a crack of support system in 2020 and I don't think I'd felt that miserable, as I did when I heard her explanation of what had been happening to me. According to her, this is the "golden period" where everything is fine and it's good. According to her, this is as good as it gets. Among other ominous details, she talked about being childless; but in a way that I try for it and that doesn't work. "A lot depends on your partner's stars and whether he has kids in his chart. You don't."

I didn't need to pay thousand bucks to be told what I know about myself but hey, this could have been a dissatisfying meal and it wasn't.

The few friends I shared this information with lost their shit at me, or asked me for her contact details. I think that's also what happens when your friends are having a bad time and don't have any reasonable explanations for the same, while the others put together their lives. I'm not saying either is wrong; just whatever shoe fits you, there will be no questions besides ownership of the said set of footwear.

When my mother found out, she was livid. She tried to recount multiple instances of how astrology and astrologers are farcical and proceeded to bring up the convenient example of the last instance when I'd attempted something as silly around a difficult moment in a relationship. A woman I spoke to when I was in shambles, about the guy I was seeing, had suggested that I was gonna end up with him. He broke up with me the same week and it was followed by a dating drought in my life. We've not come close to meeting anything I've remotely had serious life/future chats with but also, there has been nothing else either.

The stars may have lots but apparently, they are unfolding the same goddamn things. I was approached by a man from many moons ago for a plan we made when we were young and I believed in him. Out of nowhere, bam, he tells me he'll be in the same city/country as me and how we should meet. It's the same godfucking guy, doing the same godfucking thing and turning the situation in the exact same way as he did in 2017, 2018 and left me in a place that was so dark that I'm where I am. On top of everything that audacity to say, "I hope it works out for you" when I brought up what's been going on with me and that I don't need his help/sympathy.

I'm told men respect men so talking about a partner may have helped ease the unnecessary drama but the response from folks in my life has been sickening, "you should have blocked him" is an equivalent to "you should have not been out in the night". Can't men behave themselves? Why can't I just be without having to block someone who doesn't touch my life in anyway and that the blame comes on me? I don't think stars have any answers for why men are the way they are but not one man is good enough or trustworthy to my existence here.

I wish astrology had quick fixes on how to cure life. While stock market and stars behave the same way, I think the government having some control on stocks helps men more than women who believe in tides turning over when stars move. I'm begging them to turn in my favour and shine on me, just fucking once.