Love and Other Flukes.

Love and Other Flukes.

I finish smiling at the phone and hang up. My cheeks hurt from having to fake it. I’ve been faking it since forever now. I turn off the phone and put it away.

I hate being weak. I hate it that every time this routine phone call happens, I feel dumb and I feel like a compromise. Why would he pick me anyway? He’s perfect. I’m far from it. And we’re also in this long-distance thing where we talk everyday on appointment-basis. Which means, he calls and talks to me for twenty minutes on the daily. And that I’m supposed to be thankful for it. And he says I’m supposed to be happy he doesn’t cheat on me, even though all the women at work throw themselves at him.

My hands itch to find a fresh new razor.

I kind of started cutting myself when I was with another man, before him. Stopped when I met this guy, but he turned out to be the exact same piece of trash in a different meat-suit, and the whole process started again. I don’t cut myself in obvious places. Only my thighs. We’ve never had sex with the lights on, and he’s never paid attention to my scars. And when we meet, once in a while, they’re almost healed anyway. Sometimes I feel like I’m an abomination that can’t be loved. That everything about me is wrong and dirty and unworthy of someone’s time. That men only ever want to be with me because I’m something that must be pitied upon. Hot tears blind my eyes and revulsion rises inside of me like bilious vomit for even daring to think of myself with so much self-pity – and at the same time, I ask myself why am I even here. If I had a gun, I would have blown my own brains out years ago. Nobody would have known. Not till the apartment started to reek and someone ended up calling the authorities to investigate.

I fantasize about death, a lot. An unhealthy awful lot.

I find a shiny new blade and start tracing the word LOSER on to my right thigh. I’m calm when I have open wounds. I’ve always been this calm when placing calculated obvious incisions at the morgue too. Cutting myself is a whole different rush. And it heals me and it calms me down. I look at the clock. Two hours have passed and I’ve been exactly a year older for two whole hours and I never noticed.

I pat LOSER dry but she continues to bleed.



I’m supposed to be correcting my students’ papers. I can’t focus. There’s a horrible dull ache right under my tits and it’s driving me nuts. Why’s cyclical mastalgia a real thing? Why do I have to deal with it every month?

Premenstrual syndrome is a nightmare. I know Aunt Flow has almost reached V-town – I’m bloated, craving chocolate at three in the morning and my husband is still out. On a Friday night. That lousy, cheating scum.

I know he’s cheating on me.

I can’t even correct these papers anymore. I want to rip out my hair, all my hair, from the roots. I want to scream bloody banshee screams, and I want to throw boiling hot water over whoever cow he’s shagging at three am on a weekend night. I’m gonna cry.

I definitely know he’s cheating on me.

So he has a piercing in one ear, right? And I got him this little stud to wear and he’s switched it up. I remember him replacing it with one of those guy hoops that f*ckboys wear. Oh, he’s cheating on me. I’m sure some girl gave him this hoop thing. I hate it. I hate the little stones on it. I want to beat her into a unrecognizable pulpy mess. The nerve.

I hate this. I hate being home alone and working. I’m craving chocolate mousse.

I’m just gonna walk to the fridge before my ovaries and my brains split. And awesome, there’s only health crap in there. Who wants a freaking salad at this time of night? UGHHHHHHH.

Oh look, he’s FaceTiming.

Okay, so he’s at work and he’s going to be home in fifteen. Definitely not cheating. Just working. I looked carefully. He’s in office and there’s nobody around. I made him show me around. Poor thing. Must be so hard on him, you know? All of this. This marriage. To this crazy witch.

The Rise of The Anti-Vaxxers

The Rise of The Anti-Vaxxers

Vaccine controversies have been around for almost a century. People that don’t believe in vaccinating their children or don’t believe in being vaccinated themselves, are called the anti-vaxxers. There’s been a sudden spike in the numbers, even more than the numbers last year, according to this article I found.

That’s crazy, right?

2018 has seen a lot of anti-younameit so far. There’s anti-Christ, anti-humanitarian, yada yada yada. And now we have Kat Von D join the bandwagon. She’s a tattoo artist, who injects her own body with chemicals but won’t vaccinate her baby when he’s born, because she’s vegan and refuses to pepper her child’s body with vaccines. Wow. There are hypocrites and then there’s Kat Von D. Why she going in and standing her ground is yet another piece of dumbass information – the Lancet published an article saying vaccines cause autism because of the aluminum that accumulates in your brain.

The doctor that published this also had his license taken away, because the connection between autism and vaccination is completely non-existent. There’s no solid proof because the whole thing is completely dumb to even talk about. You need to be vaccinated, period. Medical sciences have brought us where we are today, with longer lifespan and better lives, because vaccinations make it possible for people to not be prone to a lot of life-threatening diseases. Polio. Measles. Diphtheria. Tetanus.

I posted a comment under a Facebook video of a child getting vaccinated and people went off like crazy. But here is the thing: pathogens don’t seek permission to enter and infect your body. Pathogens don’t seek permission before setting up shop and making you sick. Pathogens just don’t. They won’t. So what’s the point, you know, of saying things like:

“Parents do whatever they want with their children and vaccinate them because children are incapable of giving consent.”

Right. That’s very sensible, yes? Because pathogens definitely ask oh hello, can we please live inside your body? Jesus, this whole thing gets me so mad. It makes me even more so because Kat Von D is super influential, and she says things that people tend to believe in and I’m scared epidemics are going to make a comeback super soon. The beauty community acts like the Roman mob from Julius Caesar every time something like this happens. I’ve gone ahead and boycotted the brand (it makes me very sad, because I did love the KVD liquid eye liners) and I’m not alone – other people are doing it too.

Combined with the rising number of people that believe in the earth being flat, and that vaccines cause autism, I don’t want to live on this planet anymore. This is why we are undergoing serious retrogressive metamorphosis and soon, we will go back to the stone ages and the human race is going to die out. Just you wait.

Things I Learned on Vacation

Things I Learned on Vacation

I’ve been away for a good while. Not gonna lie, I missed blogging terribly. I missed being able to sit down and pour my heart out on my freaking keypad and I missed being able to talk to you guys.

To answer your question, no, I’m not dead. Just on a hiatus. And extremely happy that I got to think about a bunch of stuff, because going someplace with no cellphone reception is, like, liberating. This was a learning curve. A whole lot goes down in a week’s time, you know?

Here’s what I learned on my getaway:

1. People stay in your life as per their convenience.

I had this friend. Really, really, really good friend. The 3 AM SOS kind of friend. I go away for a while, bam, I get unfriended – literally. Please note, that this was the person that would text me at ungodly hours and I would always be down for a conversation, no matter how tired I would be. You can tell a lot from the way a person’s text pattern changes and one word answers and weird emojis are a big no no. I asked if she wanted me to stop bothering her – she replied, without missing a beat, “Yes”, no punctuation. Which also goes to show that two women can never stay friends for ever. That ship sailed way back in 500000 BC and it’s a lost cause.

2. It’s good to disconnect.

I had no idea I would feel so good with no cellphone reception. I was happy without having to FaceTime, text or call people to assist them when they needed help with something. And people usually call when they need something, we all know that. It felt really good. I swear.

3. It’s not the place, it’s just how you feel, that actually matters.

You don’t have to go to Bali. Or Peru. Or the Bahamas. You could just take a random road trip or go trekking and feel so much sadness lift if you just let things go. You’ll end up noticing so much. And little things do make the most amazing memories to cherish. Look at this amazing heart shaped stone I found while walking around to go see this waterfall. In the middle of nowhere.

Changi falls, Rishap, North Bengal, India.

4. Fur babies are beautiful.

I was at this hill station called Loleygaon, and the place we stayed at had a few highly trained, pet dogs. Meet Whitey (I’ve to be honest, I hate that name), Bobo and Bailey. I may not be ready to have kids just yet, but fur babies? A million times yes.

5. Food is bae.

You don’t have to constantly be on diet and punish your body. Letting go sometimes, feels really good.

I’ve never had as many dumplings my whole life. And guess what? I didn’t feel guilty at all. I know I’m not a photographer but here’s what I’m talking about. Momo and Thukpa on a cold, rainy day. That’s what I’m talking about.

Does anyone want me to do a travel blog post? About the places I’ve been to this past week? Let me know!

How I Effectively Waste My Holiday

How I Effectively Waste My Holiday

Most people just take vacations instead. They pack their bags, and some sunscreen, and get on a plane. Some of them do road trips. Me? I invest in a lot of ish to keep myself busy. Here’s top ten ways I while away my time.

1. Watch Box Office Flops.

I’m watching Our Brand is Crisis today. While Sandra Bullock looks stunning when blond, ah, the whole story about being a campaign manager for a politician is so BORING, even Bullock’s brilliant acting can’t save it. The movie had a budget of twenty eight million dollars US, BUT made only eight point six million at the box office.

2. Watching The Bachelor reruns.

Not gonna lie. My whole time is spent on the couch, binge watching crap on the telly. And I got fascinated by Nick Viall. That man is more than a decade older than I am and his strive to keep going and find love gives me so much hope, I can’t even.

Which also makes me wonder what’s the point? You fornicate with a million people on TV and pick one in the end, and you break up. Why would you do that to yourself?

Beats me.

3. Guilt tripping myself.

When you’ve got nothing to do, it gives your brain a lot of room to contemplate eating healthy, for example, because that’s when you guilt trip yourself the most into maybe eating a salad five times a week. And soup. And green stuff.

4. Texts. And panic attacks.

I’m going to crack a complete joke and say that this is what a real panic attack looks like. When your man says he’s gonna call and you’re like OMG I AM NOT CUTE AT THIS POINT. So you put on concealer and lipstick and mascara at 12:25 am and get on video call.

5. Drive randomly.

The beauty of the planet lies in the fact that you’re supplied with so much to explore. Where I come from, for example, there’s a huge forest belt. And I bet Nat Geo would go crazy if they were to find out.

6. Overindulge. And then, regret.

I go online and buy crap I don’t even need. For example, a new watch just because it looked fancy. Or a new pair of heels that I’d never wear. And then my bank suspects someone of having stolen my card and it ends up getting blocked. Which makes me regret my whole course of action and I cry and wish I hadn’t bought so much crap. That. I. Didn’t. Need. And now I’m on a no-buy till the end of the century.

7. Stare into space.

Amazing exercise, by the way.

This is literally me.

8. Catch up with my best friend.

Which I actually do everyday: and we talk about stuff that would make Amber Rose feel violated. Heh heh heh.


9. Wear makeup and wash it off.

Because I have an Instagram account to take care of. No one really cares, but I love to think that they do.

I’m a pseudo-beauty blogger, you see.

10. Try to actually blog.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I’ve been feeling so lackluster lately. Like, I feel like I need a vacation alone and to really reconnect with myself. Maybe then I’ll get some stuff to actually talk about. Such mechanical lives we all lead. Sigh.

Maybe then I wouldn’t be googling stuff like…

Anybody else on a break? Who am I kidding, I’m constantly on break. Ahahahahha.

“Good Morning Texts” – How Pivotal Are They?

“Good Morning Texts” – How Pivotal Are They?

Disclaimer: It’s kind of sad that I have to put out a disclaimer before I start ranting about this um, very sensitive, topic, but this post isn’t meant to hurt people. Or to bash anyone. Now, with that being said…

I was on Quora the other day, and chanced upon this question:

Is it superficial of me to expect good morning texts from my boyfriend?

And this instantly caught my attention, so I looked through the thread. While some people seemed to think it was childish and the person who asked the question seemed to be clingy, dramatic and yes, was expecting way too much, this one answer with a ton of upvotes stood out to me. This person said:

I’m reading all the answers and I can not believe what I read. It feels like everyone is saying, that expecting a good morning message from your partner is a bullshit.

No wonder this world is so ……up. I mean what are your priorities people? It is not about the “text”. It is about the “thought”. How you keeping the spark and romance in your relationships?

There should be always that one second, for that sweet thought of your partner. Even just to check up if they actually alive. Because guess what? Waking up in morning is not given. Same as is not given you will survive your day. So make time for people you love, and even if its stupid good morning message, make the effort. Make effort to be creative and romance each other and give each other love in every way possible. Because that what’s really matters in this world. If you can not find time for someone else then yourself then just don’t have relationships. If you can not do something out of your box to make your partner happy then don’t have relationship either. That’s why there are so many miserable ones.

So no it is not superficial from you. Explain to him,that it makes you happy and it is something you need. If he really truly cares about you he will make more effort. If not, you are not compatible.

And I agree, 💯.

I went on google to do some more digging of course, and a million images popped up. All saying – surprise, surprise – the exact same thing. That it’s not the text, but the thoughts, it’s about priorities, and that waking up everyday is certainly not a given.

I’ve also noticed a pattern. Men say that women become clingy, nagging and demand far too much. Let’s talk examples, shall we? I know this person who would get Good Morning texts every single day, without fail, at the initial phase of their relationship, with her boyfriend of six months. And she was so happy, she thought he was the one – because no matter how busy he was, he would wake up in the morning and call and text her and tell her he loved her. Every time, before they hung up. He would call her once he got home each night and treat her like every girl deserves to be treated in a relationship. There were no fights back then. And when things changed and this same man wouldn’t bother to say good morning, goodnight, the regular love yous, and when the call frequency dropped from several times a day to just one every week, that’s when the problems started.

This is a real life example, people, and my acquaintance isn’t the only one.

So what happened next? She began to nag. She started to feel insecure. He would say be right back, and never call back (“BRB”) and she would stay up waiting. He would be online, and not text her, and it prompted her to wonder if she wasn’t good enough. So she did the only thing she thought was prudent at this point: she started pulling away. And when two people pull away equally, there’s nothing left to be in a relationship for, right? You’ve GOT to meet halfway. No matter what relationship you’re in, if you want to make it work, you’ve got to meet halfway. You can’t start out all perfect and then suddenly drop the act. I mean, just be 💯 you from the beginning. Don’t make fake promises if you can’t keep them, just to make someone love you, because that ish hurts like a pinch to the ‘tipples’ (something DanIsNOTonFire says).

Some people never know loneliness until they get into a relationship.

Some people never know love until they’ve experienced some form of hate broken relationships bring to the table.

Some people never know pain unless it’s from someone they love.

Which brings me to Good Morning texts. It takes a few seconds to type three words. If you’re a man, in love with someone, and you know you want her for the rest of your life, and you are the kind of person that sends good morning texts now, don’t stop sending them later when your relationship is a few months old. Unless your girl asks you to stop sending them. You’re lucky, you know? Most girls don’t expect a ton, they just need some love. And when men show love and stop showing it suddenly, that’s where all the problems arise. Imagine your life if you were in love with someone like Anfisa from 90 Day Fiancé (a stupid TLC show that YouTube keeps recommending and it’s so scripted, and so pathetic, you’re oddly tempted to watch even though you want to slap people across the face).

And now, GOOD MORNING, Everyone.

My Love Is Different

My Love Is Different

I never really had a ton of friends growing up. No siblings. No cousins would come over to stay as much, because we were all based in different cities. To say that I didn’t have a happy childhood would be a bit of a lie, because I do remember Barbie dolls in my favorite cousin’s room, I do remember a trip to the hills with this cousin who’s almost my age, and I do remember that funny haircut we all had. And then puberty stuck and things changed.

The older cousins went off to college and eventually, got jobs. The younger ones got busy with school. And I, being that awkward one aged fifteen, got stuck somewhere in the middle. And every girl needs her mother, you know? But the cracks in my relationship with my mother only ever grew wider. At some point, it became unfixable. When you’re fifteen, you have a lot of schoolwork. And when you’re fifteen, overweight by a good thirty kilos, myopic and pimply and retarded-looking, plus a lot of schoolwork, you don’t really have much to do, except study and wallow in self-pity. I wasn’t allowed to watch TV, wasn’t allowed to have internet access and wasn’t allowed to go out. I was schooled and homeschooled when not at my actual school. But no, I don’t expect you to feel sorry. It happens in most brown families.

So anyway, I grew up, craving my mother’s approval and her love. I never got it. It’s been a decade. I don’t have any happy memories. At this point, I’m convinced things won’t ever change. I’ve had nearly three decades of trying to convince my mother to please, love me, but it hasn’t happened, and it’s never going to happen.

When you come from a loveless background, you tend to have lots of love stored in your heart because it doesn’t get reciprocated. Between the fights, the abuse, the struggles, the clawing at each other parts, I was rather happy to leave home when I eventually made it to college. I guess college felt more like home than home ever did. Not one to believe in horoscopes, I eventually came to believe in it when it said I would never get along well with my mother. In fact, I would never get along with her at all. No matter how hard I tried. So I lived through my college days, with all this love in my heart, wasted it on a lot of dates, and never got anywhere.

But then I met someone.

And I realized, that he loved me too. Maybe, just maybe. I’ve craved approval, craved acceptance and craved affection with all my heart, and here he was, all broody eyes and no smiles, and beautiful, and he loved me. At least he said he did. He wanted to get married. And I gave him all my love. I did things that are typically cookie cutter roles laid out for men to play. I compromised. I overlooked the frequency of calls, and texts. Overlooked the fact that he wouldn’t wish me on New Years’ and Valentine’s Day. Overlooked the fact that he thought I was a manipulative, attention-seeking, sly woman. And that he said that to my face. Overlooked the fact that we never really talked about serious things. He made me feel like I was a rebound, and I didn’t let that bother me. He put me on the bottom of his priority list, but I was just happy to be on the list.

You see, my love is different.

You give me one percent, I give you my all. You stay busy and you act rude, I make excuses for you. I convince myself that this is how love works. My love, it’s different. It’s crazy. It’ll consume you, whole, and I know that. If you’re ignoring my texts and making it look like I’m talking to myself, I don’t feel bad. There was a time, when I was very young, when I fantasized about someone putting a ring on my finger. Cushion cut, platinum band, that was me. I’d pray someone would get me flowers every Birthday, every Valentine’s Day. Get me chocolate just because. I had such high expectations. And when none of that happened, but a man finally reciprocated my feelings, I was happy to settle.

Earlier, I would wish someone would treat me like other men treated their girlfriends – I wished to be included, you know. I wished to be loved back, I wished I would get goodnight and good morning texts without having to beg. I wished someone would want to talk to me just because they missed me. I wish, I wished to be someone’s priority. But not anymore. Because my love is different and I’m just happy to be on his radar.

Based on a true story.

The Bliss Point and Some Frills

The Bliss Point and Some Frills

I was watching this amazing video by Matthew Hussey the other day. He talked about something called the bliss point in the world of “food vocabulary”. He said that we never can have enough of things like Nutella, for example, because of the optimal amounts of salt and sugar in it. So no matter how much we eat it, we don’t feel satiated.

Mr. Hussey said that while texting a guy, every woman needs to know the bliss point and keep it optimum, and apparently that’s how you keep a guy interested.

Pretty sure that Mr. H forgot that Indian guys don’t work that way. They don’t understand optimal values. They don’t understand what a woman needs, and they think that no one is worth chasing after. How do I say this with so much confidence? My own mister man and I failed miserably while trying out this kind of texting. And just so we’re on the same page, this is a long-distance thing. And what exactly do LDRs survive on? Yep, you got that right.

Communication. Video calls. Phone calls. Whatever the shiz.

Okay, all sarcasm aside, I think the actual bliss point is meant to be complete lack of overthinking. When you’re all chill like Tim Chung despite the rumors that he may have fathered little Stormi Jenner, I think that’s when you know you’ve found your bliss point. Mr. Chung certainly seems to have.

Do you see what the Internet means? Aha.

In other news, POPxo suspended my account. And to be honest, I’m glad they did. Even though they said that I’d get it back, and I still haven’t; it’s nice to finally have some peace of mind. That place is riddled with negativity and I’m uncomfortable knowing that the makers of that app have my Aadhar card details, and not to mention, my older posts are still active. If I do get my account back, it goes straight into the bin. Which goes to show, they don’t even verify and women are 💯 jealous of other women.

Which brings me to the frills.

Did you know that Facebook is super unsafe? This person from POPxo found me on there and sent me a DM. THIS IS TERRIFYING, you guys. There’s no privacy anymore.

I’m losing my chill.

Maybe I should go breathe into a paper bag this Sunday. The whole day. What say? Ooh, and by the way, I had my AIIMS exams today. Which I bunked because I knew I wasn’t gonna get in. Tra la la.

This post was completely meaningless but I hope you smiled for at least three seconds. See you guys tomorrow!

“We Don’t Talk Anymore”

“We Don’t Talk Anymore”

Yes, it’s a smash hit. Yes it’s a Charlie Puth song (“Charlie Poof”, in Jade Thirlwall’s Geordie accent). No, I’m not talking about music today. Not today.

Even though it’s one heck of a beautiful chemistry, I have to say.

Moving on.

The commonest problem these days with many long-distance relationships would be “we don’t talk anymore”. So I did a bit of research, I asked a few people if they were actually doing okay with being miles away from the love of their lives and boy oh boy, did I find a few gems.

• People lose interest in their partners.

• People cheat on their partners.

• People fall out of love.

All of that leads me to believe, that no one really loves anymore. Everyone is just way too self-obsessed and way too busy and every sentence normally starts with an “I want or I need or I must” and there’s no we anymore. Here’s what your mama won’t tell you, specially if you’re a brown millennial:

Relationships take work.

It takes effort. It’s a relationship, not an untreated infection and it won’t grow on its own, unless you put in something. Women turn into nagging entities and men run away, and find solace in other things because mostly no one wants to be latched on to someone these days, unless that someone had something to offer. I’ll be honest, humans are selfish and there’s no such thing as “unconditional love”. Everyone has been lying to you. If you did love someone unconditionally, you wouldn’t be bragging about it. Nuh uh.

Then we have the cheating problem. It’s directly proportional to a few parameter. Your partner is obviously likely to cheat if –

• they feel ignored, or

• they feel under appreciated, or

• they’re bored with you, or

• they’re lonely, or

• they’re habitual whores.

It’s probably mostly just the whoring and good people get cheated on all the time. It’s so rampant it’s like diarrhea. Everyone faces backlash. Everyone gets affected. It’s not even a big deal anymore. You know what happens in a long-distance thing? One partner always loves less. The other ends up feeling unloved, unappreciated and lonely despite being in a solid relationship. I should be a life guru. What a revelation. Wow. Would anyone pay me to be a life guru, let me know?!

Which brings me to what I was talking about earlier.

You don’t talk to your partner anymore and there’s no communication, because you’ve run out of things to keep the conversation flowing. You know each other’s schedules so well, you’re okay with not talking to each other for days. You know when he says that he’s gonna call back, he won’t because that’s how it is. And at some point you stop feeling bad. It’s like a swollen painful bladder. It hurts at first and then it ruptures and poof, no more pain because the damage has been done but the pain is done too.

How to fix this?

You can’t talk.

You can’t text.

You’re scared of your partner because they are grumpy due to work stress and can’t love you at that point.

You’re lonely.

You don’t know what to do, right?

Go see them. Take a flight. Pop around at their workplace if you have to. Hold them tight.

Nothing would ever make you say we don’t talk anymore because trust me, it gets better once you see them, again, in person, and talk to them and it’s like self-healing. It forces your relationship back together again. Unless of course, you’re meeting to break up, in which case I recommend taking along body armor.

Have a good day, folks.

The Silent Treatment

The Silent Treatment

You’re sitting over here, with the phone in your hand, as he leaves your texts on read.

You’re left wondering what you may have done this time, and you break your head.

You give in, and you call him up, and he disconnects the call, doesn’t call back.

And you lie there on the floor, worrying, always worrying, almost giving yourself a heart attack.

You almost call his mother, but you refrain, because you don’t wanna look needy.

You almost text his brother but you don’t because you don’t wanna look seedy.

You’ve given this relationship your all, expecting nothing just one call, and it never comes.

You’re left wondering if he’s even worth all that blood pounding hungrily against your eardrums.

If he’s even worth all the tears you’ve ever cried, all the pain you’ve had to hide.

If he’s even worth all the lies you’ve told yourself, you said you’re happy, you know you lied.

Because nothing kills a woman faster than the silent treatment, the cold, unyielding hush.

Nothing breaks her faster, so give her the cold shoulder should you wanna kill her in a rush.

Break up without a goodbye, give her no explanation as to why.

Leave her stranded, emotionally stripped naked, don’t bat an eyelid as she starts to cry.

Leave her wondering, assuming, overthinking, watch her descend rapidly into insanity.

While you, basking in your male-ego glory, wrap around yourself, even more snugly, the cloak of inhumanity.