3 Years in the making.

Life was different back then, I was a college freshman sitting in his hometown, feeling like I didn’t belong, like I was somehow better than the rest of the inhabitants of my beautifully deranged city, like I somehow needed to do more, to achieve, more. So I lay my fingers down on my keyboard and started to type, I kept typing, I kept on going till my eyes hurt, I dug deeper with every word I wrote, staring into my own soul, my text a mirror for my brain, a reflection in a turbulent river. I kept on going, the mundane became extraordinary, the more I wrote the more I fell in love with words, the prospects of my blog, every new follower that I gained, every hit that I got kept me going, observational prose turned to mysterious poetry, comedy turned to satire, slapstick became my weakness.

I typed away my thoughts till I had nothing left and then I dug even deeper and the deeper I went, the more I thought, scrapping every idea and opinion into a blog post and out of my mind, it kept my mind on edge, kept me wanting for more, waiting for more, Needing, more. I started writing professionally and realized I hated it, I started working on more experimental pieces, like Little Timmy, SSS and a few more things that never made it past the pages app on my mac.

I started writing a novel, about myself because I am after all a narcissist, I finished and deleted it. I wrote another one that sits in the recycle bin of my old Sony Vaio till this day, then I started working on another one and the process still works.

This blog has been a very personal journey for me. A journey that has changed me forever, A journey I wish all of you reading this text would undertake. Because sometimes, the only solution to your demons is to let them out into the world and onto the internet for all of eternity. I was a shy little boy sitting in my room when I started this.

I’m the man I am today because I started this.

Thank you for support, thank you for the love, thank you for the faith.

Bhavya out.

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Grow up. Get a job. 

I have been away from blogging for a long time now. 

Its been 2 months since I wrote something that made any sense.

The placements started in my college roughly a month ago and they’ve been heartbreaking to say the least.

I got through the first round to my dream program the IGrad at IHG, but slmehow there’s a part of me telling me, as I sit here in a steel tube travelling to my college,” you can’t make it man.”

“You’re just not good enough, the three of them are brilliant. Just look at them, they’re so great, what do you have thats even half as interesting as them?”

I try fighting this voice that just doesn’t believe in me. But apparently nothing I can do will change it.

I’m not saying I don’t believe in myself. I just don’t believe in the circumstances I face and as a result I inherently face the problem of just not being able to get over this 9foot tall mental block that tells a story to me everytime I try to cross it.

I don’t really remember the story but it’s something about this one thing I did so long ago. 

My karma is at an all time low. 

My confidence is out for dinner with my pride. 

Right now I’m not even sure if anything I write has any significance to the larger truth. 

It’s not like I can’t make it.
It’s just that I know that nothing I can do can be good enough. Nothing I believe in can probably be enough for a person like me to make it through to an elite program.
I’ve always been a fish that feeds itself at the bottom. 

But then I look at the people around me. The amiynt of faith they put into me, the way they look out for me, the envy, the jealously, that feeling of constant deliberation as to why they even feel the need to stand with me.

I look at the people around me. I look at my competition and I just dont want to fight anymore. 
I can’t. Fight anymore.

So this is a swan song to the man who wrote his destiny on the insude of a 1X2 matchbox drenched in gasoline and shot it.
Here’s my Farwell.

Here’s bhavya saying so long. And thanks for all the fish.

Spray on confidence.

So today Id like to skip the chapter of Timmy’s story and focus on something more relatable than a little boy getting super powers from a spider god. That is unless you relate to that, in whigh case you’re fucking weird. 

Anyways it’s been a very lively month for me mostly because of the best Goa trip EVER ( I had an accident, lost a lot of money, time and my friend lost teeth. Moral of the story don’t let people drive. ) 

But it was really lovely because of the fact that ive finally moved in with my grandparents. The decision to do so came as a shock to me and everyone around me because of my flat being  the go to party hub for all of us for a long time. The reason for this back track in collegiate freedom was simple, wifi. Lol jk.

It was my grandparents themselves, growing up without any grand dad or grand mom, is not exactly great for you in the long run, you miss out on a lot, tales of a forgetten era tht exists only in film and period dramas, stories and anecdotes so different from your own, art, literature, science, wisdom there’s just to much knowledge in being with them and id chose that over getting drunk all night in a heartbeat. 

Sure, i have a curfew and i travel a lot, but sitting on the dining table having the food my grandfather cooks and then sitting there watching the news and discussing everything with them is much more important than any amount of parties i might’ve thrown back when i used to live alone surrounded every night by 4 Walls and silence.

Sure travelling a lot gets really boring sometimes, but in the end. It is always worth it. 

You fell asleep in my car.

Voices that shatter the mirrors that matter, oxfordian commas, and gullible antique furniture shop owners. 

Loose change turning into a rhythmic flow of observation, i look into more pressing mattwrs like my own desolation. 

I wasn’t raised like a warrior or a priest, i was raised like a thinker, a lover of the breeze. 

I look into your eyes feinting a sense of prosperity, your problems are a beauty, you reach to my cupboard and bring the wrong choice.

Drinking wine in a brandy glass, you’re eating at me like a molotov. Look me in the face and challenge me to a race. Look at my teeth and tell me what you need. 

He spoke with a gravelly voice. He told me he’d break my bones. Im a wordsmith looking for inspiration, he gave me 8 reasons for flight. She gave me one to fight. 
I was looking for the key all my life.   But the door, it was already open.  Thats just something a poet said. 

The reality is that he owns the key. And the door is boarded up with 10inch thick stainless steel.

From noida with acne.

Been a while since i did something personal. Been a long tine since i actually talked to you guys. Im gonna take today’s post to do just that. 
As you know ive become somewhat of a better writer than i was when i started and my lovely audience has shot up to 1197 followers. My skills for imagery have gotten better and i can finally type on a keyboard that has the “H” key working.

Dare i say, its a good patch. But then again we all have our demons. Mine just happen to be happiness and my search for it. 

Its funny how the old me would get a tattoo to get rid of all the voices. Writing helps me out so much, anyway this post is meant for something no one in the world knows about me and whats a better way of coming out with my secrets than the blog that keeps me sane.

You probably wont pay heed to my words but just try to imagine this. You are thinking about something but not in your own voice. You have 3 different voices with 3 different personalities in there. And now imagine if they dint get along, EVER.

I have the privilege of having this. There’s me. There’s red and there’s the third guy.

Red’s the angry one and the third one is just sad all the time.

Now this may seem like a joke. But imagine having to decide what to wear or which word to use next and having two people giving you constant chatter, the voices scare me sometimes. Used to scare me much more when i was a kid. I did things, bad things, just to make them leave that didn’t happen, i tried to listen to them but god, they’re bad bad people.

There’s times when im a prisoner here, red takes over a lot. Says stuff i dont want to say. Now i get that this makes me seem borderline schizo but then again i have embraced them and i have made deals with them. Things im not particularly proud of at this particular moment but deals nonetheless. They have their vents. And i have my life. We all win. Still, the struggle gets real whenever red gets mad or the third guy gets sad. 

They say and do stuff i dont want to. Its hard to get them to back off sometimes. This might sound weird but this has always been there. They. Have always been a part of me.

Moving to the beat

They waltzed to the beat of destiny, sashaying away the realms of man, blowing kisses through the torrent of the fan.

He was headstrong and depressed, She was perfect and yet impressed. His whims and fancies dictated the world he lived in , it was one she wanted to be in.

A game of shadows and the gestures of a clown, their life together began in silence.

She looked on closely and saw another, with the face of apathy, occupying her space, stealing her rightful degree in winning this race.

Things can never be perfect in the life of a man with so many demons, He gazed upon the shelf and found hope in her dreamy eyes and her slightly blushed up cheeks. She looked at him and rejected the advances he made. The world turned into a bad place, childish empathy and fake sympathy filling up his bottle with drugs and gasoline.

She regretted the steps she had taken but the apathy in his life needed to leave, her life would never be the same, but a man doesn’t matter. its the thought that counts she supposed.

Breaking their promises, learning the acts of true companionship, they march into oblivion as the fade gathers into the mist veiling slowly the coating set into the abyss. Days bleed into hours as months turn into years. The threads of togetherness tore apart by the blades of a rusty pair of garden sheers.

They faced their demons left themselves into the sea of uncertainty for all of eternity.

The world however is a funny place, They thought they’d lost hope but fate entwined their ties into a sullen confrontation of lies.

A tale of two lovers that found each other in a festival of nerds, They found love in a place where you only found virgins.

Whiskey and emotional debts, her 18th birthday and a crooner in a fest. A train ride to heaven coffee drops and toffee pots leading upto the day he found his voice again. He laid it down on the line, He left everything to chance,  Her fingers began to dance.

Barinder and aakash are sitting behind my seat

So two people who talk a lot on a bus
Are sitting behind me

And talking
With their fake accents and fake stories
Their lives are so different from mine
So unrelated

Its funny how it drags you down sometimes
Knowing that everyone in the world is oblivious to you

Makes you think doesnt it ?

But sometimes especially right now

I want these pricks to please
shut the eff up

The prime.

It comes it goes .

Greatness is virtual .
Its all upto how you perceive it.
I started out as a guy crying about his ex.

That was a year ago.

1 year.

Wow.

Now im a guy crying about everything.

Very amaze
Much growth.
Such change.
Wow.

So Its been a great year
An absolute delight . I made a lot of promises to myself and completed them . I found someone good . And kicked a few bad habits .

I realised writing is something i love .

My goals changed . My life changed .

Im not gonna be thankful for all the good 2014 has done to me, id rather say goodbye and show the bird to the bad things.

Descend your baggage , forget the past and eat some cabbage.

We’re another year closer to the end .

So take a step forward , even if you wanna hold on to the past , you know you cant . So let yourself go Live laugh have fun party and use commas.

Go forth into the abyss , nothing is as seductive as the unknown

Soooo done.

Life is like a box of m&ms .
It might have different colours and shades , but inside it always leaves you with that same taste in your mouth .

For some people its the taste of achievement.
For people like me its the taste of bitter disappointment.

I am not even kidding .

Everything ive ever done has left me disappointed and dissatisfied.

Im sure its the same for a lot of people .

You try your best .
You get first prize .
But you just aren’t happy with it .

Never .

You talk to someone for 6 hours and in the end say something that makes them cut the phone angrily .

And you don’t even realise what happened.

It might be because mostly you hate people and everyone around you .

You start blogging with grit and determination and your phone says 10% battery left .

If given a choice between the old glass is half full or half empty . You freaking hate the glass .

Im no saying that this is a bad thing .
No .
Its actually pretty good .

The cynicism , the negativity kind of take things to whole new level .

I don’t know what that level is but im assuming its shitty.

So you know what . Damn you for taking precious time to read this .

Im not gonna make any sense right now because im angry and very very very nervous.
So eff you and your feelings .
God dammit i hate you .

And yes when im mad i say the truth.
And if hurts you well then boo freaking hoo .
I am not going to change .

Im sorry for the detour

But

Umm

Getting back on track …

And if you’re as cynical as i am .
Remember that its ok . Thats just who you are.

There’s probably a reason for you being that unhappy .

Find it.

And destroy it.

Watch it burn .

Peace out.