The Other Woman 

The Other Woman 

I hope no one else ever feels this way

This uncertainty that never seems to go away 

The hurt that’s driving me insane 

This isn’t just some random pain 

It’s beyond that, beyond everything that crushes you 

It’s the worst case of the blues 

There’s no saving me because I’m in too deep 

Even though I know he’s not mine to keep 

Not that he ever was anyway 

Having said that, I’m done for the day 

Having him creep into my room at night 

Doing everything so right 

The world feels like a better place with him around 

All emotions heightened, all colors, every sound 

I’ve never been more aware 

I’ve never been more ashamed of having been pulled by the hair 

Sharing him with her 

She doesn’t know, because for the most part I vanish into thin air 

Just when morning comes

Just when dawn breaks 

Just when she calls 

When he goes home, to her

He isn’t mine to keep, 

All I can do is smile and then weep

Because it’s so much better, hating life with shared property

Than to be lonely.



Isn’t it funny how opportunistic friendships have become? 

It used to be nice. And selfless. And then turned to some sort of symbiosis. You gave, and you took. And now? You’re an opportunistic pathogen. I’m not even kidding here. Look at my friends. They ditch me all the time like I’m a freaking used wet wipe. Actually no. Worse. What’s with people and forming new cliques at the ripe old age of 25? I’d understand if we were all teenagers and we’d form new cliques everyday and ignore our ex best friends but at 25, it’s kind of unacceptable. 

Which leads me to believe that true friends don’t really exist and friendships aren’t forever. And I need to stop watching Disney movies and wishing I had a Winne the Pooh to my Piglet. ‘Cause that’s never gonna happen. 

I feel like there’s something wrong with me. My friends would rather get drunk or stoned with their friends than hang out with me. This makes me about as interesting as a dead booger that some rabbit on the highway left to dry in the sun. And they only ever remember me when they have financial crises. I’m not specifically saying it’s just ONE friend, because it’s the whole LOT. They won’t invite me to house parties because ‘your mum doesn’t like you partying’, they won’t call me over for movie dates because ‘oh we totally forgot’ and they won’t wish you on New Year’s or on your birthday because ‘how the heck am I supposed to remember your birthday when you don’t have a facebook!’ Also, I tend to notice that my female friends make most of these excuses. More than the dudes do. Man, am I uninteresting or what. I’m guessing I’m the ‘or what.’

This is why I’ve decided I’m going to stop talking to people that only ever remember me when they need something. Add that to my list of 2017 resolutions. 

Midnight Musings 

Midnight Musings 

It’s been eight whole days and I haven’t published a thing. Good going, woman. Great start to 2017! Insert dollops of sarcasm right here. 

I have no excuse. Really. When I started this blog I thought I could be committed. That I would stay committed to writing. But no, oh no. What did happen, you ask? Everyone knows that most blogs die out within the span of a year or so. Just look it up. I’m not saying every blog does. The ones that start out like mine, you know, all promising looking, they do actually die. I mean, when I started LilRant two years ago (WHOA. TWO YEARS. WHAT?) I’d actually manage to get like a hundred followers every month. I got about 200 each month mid 2016, I was producing hilariously bitchy content and even stories. I’m really proud of my Libby’s Diary series. (You can check these out – here and here.)

You know how they say an empty mind is the Devil’s workshop? Well, I have an empty mind currently, at 00 hours IST January 9, 2017. And no, it’s far from being the Devil’s workshop. It’s buzzing. Empty and buzzing. Sitting in a post op ward with patients and their families around. Surrounded, and alone. I don’t speak the language, never bothered to pick it up. I don’t and can’t and couldn’t be bothered to connect. The nurses don’t help because I’m the only North Indian here that’s basically sticking out like a sore, fractured, rotten, middle finger. I can’t complain. I brought this upon myself. Nobody warned me this would be scary and lonely. I can handle lonely and scary, separately. Both together, it becomes hell fire on my ass. I can’t do this. 

You know what sucks? Having people tell you you can count on them, and then they do a bunk. And having the same people claim they’re your best friends when in fact they aren’t. WTF? I’m having a very crappy 2017 already. Between sticking pills up patients’ butts multiple times a day and breaking phone cases – dropped my phone several times this week, and broke three cases in seven days – I have a crappy life. And yet, I’m thankful. This could be a lot worse. I mean, I could end up doing gynaecology and never be able to eat. Good Lord. 

Oh, and by the way, when did buying makeup turn into a competition? I can’t even. I know this was random, but I just wanted to talk to you guys. Thanks for hearing me out. 

Cherish Him

Cherish Him

To all you lucky lady ducks out there, those of you in relationships with someone that understands you, and knows what you want, and what makes you happy, without your even saying anything, cherish him.

He hands you his credit cards over, while you go berserk shopping – cherish him.

He takes your mood swings, loves you at your best and at your worst, never goes to bed mad at you – cherish him.

Buys you flowers, just because? Cherish him.

Gets the whole Becca X Jaclyn Hill collection, or whatever latest launch you’ve been drooling over, without your saying anything at all – cherish him.

Shows you off to the world, and treats you good – cherish him.

You don’t know how lucky you are. They say a relationship has nothing to do with buying your other half presents, and giving them little surprises – yeah, right.

Try sitting through Lemony Snicket’s and vegging out on pizza and avoiding looking at the clock and the empty inbox and the empty mailbox on your birthday. Alone. In the dark.

Do you feel lucky yet?

Always and Forever

Always and Forever

Lorraine looks at Jonah, fast asleep on the couch. He’s been doing that for weeks now. Resisting the insane urge to grab the console out of his hands and whack him on the head, she walks across the room. Turns off the TV, throws a comforter over him. He rolls over without waking up.

Lorraine and Jonah. Together for a while now. When he asked her out, all shy and hesitant, he seemed all right. And now, ten months on, and he doesn’t care. Lorraine says he’s tactless. Jonah says she pushes him away.

Do all couples have this lack of communication, she wonders.

She wishes she could sleep. Like Jonah does. Undisturbed. Peaceful. He forgets the world. He forgets her. How long has it been since she actually slept? She can’t remember. When was the last time Jonah bought her sunflowers, her favorite flower? Never, she reminds herself.

I bet love is nothing but compromise in disguise.

He’d promised her always and forever. Forever is thirty seconds long, I suppose, she tells herself for the umpteenth time. That’s the longest attention span Jonah has around her. He doesn’t like hanging out. They don’t do dates. They don’t talk. They won’t text.

She’s the job he despises and doesn’t want. But she pays the bills. He needs her. Always and forever.



I wish I knew what I wanted to do with my life.
One moment I’m consumed by depression, the next, I’m alive.

I wish I were less complicated and a little bit nice.
Try as I might, sometimes I can’t stop peppering my statements with white lies.

I wish I were easier to love, easier to be with.
One moment I’m calm, the next, I’m a crazy b*tch.

I wish I were hard to let go of, I wish I were indispensable.
But that’s impossible, because half the time I’m insensible.

I wish I had someone who’d fight for me,
But that’s just crazy because nobody would want a freak.

I wish I were happier in my own skin,
Not having to compete with everyone and everything.

I wish I had some peace.
I’d give anything. Just to have a bit.

Dear Santa, this is all I wish for.