Facade of Announcements

Sometimes I wonder, if people did all these great things and had no one to tell them about.. will it mean less to them? If you went to all the wonderful places in the world and had no pictures to show for it, will that be worth any less?

Why am I asking awkward questions? Well, here's what happened. I loved Twitter, and people on it and comments and all the wonderful wittiness that came along. Then, I got extensively busy in a project and had no time to tweet. Or check or keep tabs at all. The project got over and I went back.

It felt nothing like it used to. I just couldn't fathom how this is happening? I used to love this.. this that I now find irritating, shallow, prejudiced and prude. I used to love these people, those who I now find whiny and groupy-ish.

I find no entertainment in people announcing their being stuck in traffic, or getting new red lipstick, or complaining about Monday, or telling me what they're eating, where they're going, where they've been, who they fuck or that they dont fuck enough.

So bloody irrelevant. Honestly, I liked the liking twitter phase better. Like belonging to something. Having so many people know so much abut my life and opinions. One feels appreciated and even celebrity-ish. Now I feel like an outsider. Like being surrounded by a high school cult that I'm not a part of. But most times, I notice the positives that came out of this and I wouldn't trade them for anything. Like, valuing experiences for what they are and when they are, without feeling the need to let a 1000 unknown people know about it. The blessing of zero distraction. I don't even pick up my phone for anything during the nine hours I'm at work. I get so much done, work related and else. Like keeping things private. And keeping opinions unannounced. Letting go of the organized routine of venting about each and everything I dislike under the sun. I find that I let go much more easily now, and things genuinely bother me less now that I've refrained from #outrage (;) since  a while.

You want to get a perspective on something, step away from it for a bit and you might see it for what it is.

Anyway, I'm looking for new addictions, ideas anyone? :)   

A Long Lost Red Crayon

The greatest factor that keeps us all going in life is a possibility of a better future.

As I sit here and watch over the past few years in a fanatic speed of bollywood flashback reel, I had, just like everyone else, thousands of these moments. When the present looks so dreary you almost leap down to thinking of giving it all up, for a distant house, a secluded city, anonymity.

You secretly keep wishing that in time you'll fall asleep and the morning will hold a better note.

I didnt let Bhaiya and Bhabhi out of my sight the entire night. Actually, it was quite impossible not to notice them. Colourful, vivid, young, energetic, lost.

He slided a ring in her finger. It was a twin band, one gold and the other white gold with diamonds studded all around it. Feel nothing. And then it was her turn, a broad gold ring with some twelve diamonds fitted in a square shape. Eww.

My aunt kept staring at me. As if my standing there was some bad luck for the couple. I'll just blame the cinema (for convenience) for ->
'divorced/widow=bad luck'
Eh, she hates me anyways, who cares.

I tried my level best to get lost in the crowd. But something or the other kept happening. Your coke needed ice, people come up to you and want to know hows college, you get hungry, its too cold, its suffocating. Useless unavoidable things.

Suddenly, I looked around to see everyone and it was like being in pairs was an obligation. All you see are couples. "Where the hell are those loud, obnoxious little kids when you need them in the picture?"

You know when you were in fourth grade and you get invited to a classmate's birthday party at their house. Chole-bhature, cake and triangular flourescent green caps. And you get a 10 rupees 12 colour crayon set.

Years down the lane, you find those crayons in the study table drawer. You cant throw them away, cause some weird Indian mother voice in your head keeps repeating, 'You might need them someday'. So you chuck them somewhere in there and shut the drawer close. Dark. It might never see the light of the day, but then again, it might.

I feel like that long lost red crayon. I want to sleep.