Sometimes I want to scream at the top of my lungs in a crowded place out of sheer loneliness. And sink on the concrete floor with my head tucked between my knees. I want someone to look into my empty eyes and read my story. Then comfort me with a hug. But I stand quietly in the corner of this posh restaurant smiling politely at the couples walking into it with their fingers interlocked. They wait for their table. I wait for mine. In the meantime, I stand there alone, a thousand thoughts run a marathon inside my tiny head. What have I done to deserve it -- is one such thought. Sometimes I talk to others. Those who appear to have it all. After 15 minutes of easing into the conversation, I find they are no less miserable. If I'm a Siberian desert - cold and barren, they are Sahara - few people come to visit them - a very few walk with them under the scorching circumstances. Deep down, we are all lonely. Terribly lonely. We all seek one person with whom we can share that
Like that cigarette slowly burning between your fingers, I burn too. Because you are addicted to Gold Flake and I am addicted to you. The only difference - you can buy your addiction - but I can't win over you in a million years. The only similarity - you crush both cigarette butts and my hopes multiple times a day under your feet. You are one cruel b*****d. Oh man, why I still love you so very much? I think about that a lot sober. There has to be a reason for this unwavering, almost God-like devotion towards you. For the life of me, I can't find an answer to that question. I don't know why I want to walk barefoot on a black beach with you. Watch the sunset - and - watch your features turn into a beautiful silhouette. As the evening would sink into darkness and we will lay on the beach to watch the stars and crescent moon - I want to smell the salty ocean on your skin. Then when you will try to light that f*****g Goldflake and put it between your lips, I will th
It was a ruthless day when I discovered my real identity. As a teenager, I struggled through hot girls, rich girls, and famous-for-nothing girls. I often felt like a lost puppy in the crowd of bitches. Amidst the ting-tong of Doordarshan commercial, finally, one day I found answers to all my questions. My ray of enlightenment was none other than - Nirma Soap Ad. This karmic journey started the day my cousin infused the thought that a soap defines you. He bathed with Dettol as he was a cleanliness freak. And I should choose a soap that fits my character. When I gleefully jumped at being Liril Girl, he looked with disdain. With one hand he pointed at Preity Zinta’s poster and with other towards the mirror. I nodded. I had no dimples or shorts to be that cool. Even the bottom of my skirt was triple folded to adjust my growing height and our middle-class income. On that day of summer vacation, my arduous journey began. If there is a soap that my fits my short-rounded-desperate