Midnight. 

It’s late, and I’m still thinking about you.

​”I am addicted.
She is my bottle of vodka.
She is my cookie crumbs.
She is the eighth colour of my rainbow.
The colour that’s everywhere,
Except inside the rainbow.
She is my three A.M.
The three A.M. pain I write about,
And the three A.M. calls I don’t make.
She is my happy ever after.
The happy ever after in a fairytale,
In those tales for my three A.M. kid,
In those stories for my four A.M. demons,
In those lullabies for my five A.M. drowsy eyes.
She is my sushi.
She is my ‘one eyelash – one wish’.
She is my 11:11 ‘Wish, please come true’.
She is my cigarette.
Here’s the fucking problem.
I’m addicted.
And she’s my nicotine patch.”


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Friends.

“Sometimes, happy memories hurt the most.” – Unknown

Memories can hardly ever be photographed. Will one picture and the thousand words it speaks be enough to justify what the memory means to you? It never will, for me. For the past three years, I have missed home more than it might have missed me. My friends have moved on and I’m stuck in a time loop of where I wish I was right now, and where I actually am.

As you might know, I shift a lot. Which also inevitably means I make friends a lot, but not for too long. I haven’t found that one friend that would last forever yet, but maybe one day? Until then, I make peace and sometimes get depressed, with the memories of these friends. Here is a small and brief glimpse into my memories.

  1. When I was in fifth-sixth grade, I made a friend in Dubai. We met every day and did crazy stuff (and also, stupid) like FunTrivia. We spent hours doing nothing except throwing a ball back and forth, and talking about things I barely remember. We played cricket in the corridors of buildings, and ran away just before someone could shout at us. Tried to throw stones at trees so that the Dates would fall off, and we could have the sheer joy of eating one this way. It was amazing, really.
  2. In India, I met three girls that I called the trio. They were best-friends long before I had come along, and still are now that it has been three years since I’ve left. Three extremely beautiful girls, with whom I share so many memories. Ice skating (and falling down way more times than I can remember), games of truth and dare, trips to crazy places or simply just strolling in a park. We became friends because all four of us loved reading, and also cause one of them came to eat the first packet of lays that I opened in school. I still love them so much, although they barely remember me.
  3. With the trio, was another person. He was one of the craziest and most optimistic person I have ever met. He still might be. We played cricket, football, tennis, basketball, and every other sport we could possibly find. We have stayed over at each others place more than a hundred times, to say the least. I was a vegetarian when I met him, he loved KFC, and the rest is history. I have had McD and KFC almost on a daily basis, and that guy still got abs before I did. Ughh. XD

My friends were not something out of a fairy-tale, because that would make it unreal and not fun. We weren’t something magical either, because that would make it too good to be true. We were normal, different, and a bit insane. I think they could make a good movie on the trio, me and the last guy. I promise you, it would be fun to watch.

This was another small attempt to let you see that I am as normal, if not more, as you. And I have a life that I love despite being the one that always has to let go. This is a part of the infinity that I am, the curve that makes me. Find your friends, make memories, and don’t be afraid to let go. Robert Frost insisted that life goes on. Be happy. Okay?

Bless this life ∞
Adieu.


Also, my domain is now myspirals.com. The old link will still work, but use this to make it easier. And go to the Contact page and tell me any changes you’d like, or anything you’d like me to write on. Thank you for your love.


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What were we like?

We were like two phrases lost in translation. We made perfect sense in a language that I spoke and not at all in the language you knew.
We were like two stars that almost seemed to be touching, but were light years away. You wouldn’t know if I collapsed before it was too late.
We were like two dominoes, stacked against each other. If you fell, I’d fall with you.
We were like an eclipse. When we were together, I saw you and they saw you, but no one could see me.
We were like champagne, perfect for fancy occasions only.
We were like two halves of a broken heart. We could complete each other but we didn’t really fit.
We were like two coins, that made a lot of noise together but had lesser value apart.
We were like two nights, one darker than the other. But both still, silent, and calm.
We were like magic. I thought we were real, but you called it an illusion.
We were like two flowers blooming to be beautiful alone, but we had a stronger fragrance together.
We were beautiful. But I guess only I see it this way. Because we were like two pairs of eyes always seeing things differently.


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Kiss me slow.

This is how you should kiss her every time.


“Kiss her. Slowly, take your time, there’s no place you’d rather be. Kiss her but not like you’re waiting for something else, like your hands beneath her shirt or her skirt or tangled up in her bra straps. Nothing like that. Kiss her like you’ve forgotten any other mouth that your mouth has ever touched. Kiss her with a curious childish delight. Laugh into her mouth, inhale her sighs. Kiss her until she moans. Kiss her with her face in your hands. Or your hands in her hair. Or pulling her closer at the waist. Kiss her like you want to take her dancing. Like you want to spin her into an open arena and watch her look at you like you’re the brightest thing she’s ever seen. Kiss her like she’s the brightest thing you’ve ever seen. Take your time. Kiss her like the first and only piece of chocolate you’re ever going to taste. Kiss her until she forgets how to count. Kiss her stupid. Kiss her silent. Come away, ask her what 2+2 is and listen to her say your name in answer.” – Unknown (Instagram handle : Ofwhisperedwords)


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Snow.

“We are like a snowflake. All different in our own little way.” – Unknown

  1. She wasn’t the perfect six-fold symmetry crystal. She had four white feathers spread throughout unevenly. She wasn’t a Polaroid. But she was what made you believe that you could be beautiful anyway. So when she walked towards him wearing a dress with flip-flops, no mascara and a messy bun, he fell in love. That was it. Love at first sight or whatever. He saw her and he just did. She was beautiful. She had small eyes, and a wide smile. She walked with heavy strides but her touch was soft. She was a beautiful paradox wrapped in glitter that spread.
  2. He was the ice crystal that you see in the pictures. Perfectly symmetrical and totally adorable. He had messy hair, the kind you want to play with. And deep eyes that you could look into and feel alive. His voice was music. He was the kind of guy that would hold the door open for you. He was perfect, really. Except he wasn’t for her. He had the perfect walk, and the right jokes up his sleeves, and long drives waiting for her. But it wasn’t it. He was the six-fold, and she wasn’t. Heart-break took a feather off, maybe.
  3. It was a six-fold. Because you know, dogs always are. So when I picked him up, and cradled him like a baby for the first time, I couldn’t help but name him Snow. “Woof”

A small letter for Santa from me. I have been naughty and it was worth it.

Merry Christmas. ∞


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