When April ended, I was determined to not let anything at all stand in the way of me and my recovery. It is now no secret that April was a doozy; it forced me to stand and deal with a lot of things that I had done absolutely everything to avoid (especially the murky areas of my own mind), and while it was necessary, it was also difficult as hell.

Fast forward to now, six days into May, and it feels like I’m…empty. There is nothing concrete left to hold on to, and without an anchor, I feel weightless. Normally, I would have found something to focus on by now, something to at least get me by for until after exams get over, if not any longer. I know my history and my cycles. I know that there are certain same phases that I need to go through every time something major happens.

The first phase is the Fake Acceptance, where I try to talk myself into being optimistic and repeatedly tell myself that this is okay, this is good, this is for the better. On an average, this phase lasts anywhere from a week to a month, depending upon an array of myriad factors involved. This is quickly followed by Rage, where everything is just another reason for me to be mad at things and people, and no matter what anyone tells me, I just cannot calm down. Once the bloodlust subsides and I can stand to talk to people without yelling and/or making snide comments (that aren’t always unwarranted), I move on to the third and final phase, which is Compromise. I try to make peace with the changes, and learn to live with them, after doing an extensive search to identify the silver lining (however faint) in this situation.

These phases are familiar to me; it gives me this twisted sense of relief that at the end of all this, I will be fine. But this time, while I waddled through the first two phases pretty quickly, the last phase is nowhere in sight. Every time I think that I’m finally okay with things being the way they are, something shakes loose, something shifts, and I find myself alone and frustrated (possibly even crying), desperate for a solution.

The thing is, there is no way I can glorify my scars or my insecurities to make them sound like they are the result of heroics or anything that could inspire anyone. My scabs are not wounds won on the battlefield; I have no reason to be proud of them. Some might object, saying that “we acquire strength in what we overcome”. To them I only want to say this: in my 21 and a half years of being alive, I’ve overcome a shit ton of stuff, and what use is the strength if it can’t save me from my own self?

Ever since I’ve had this blog, I usually post when I have a problem, and more often than not, the following post goes up when that problem is solved. This may be the first time ever where I am going to admit that I’m struggling.

There, I said it.

I’m struggling with my own self. And I have talked about this to people, but it has done very little to help me deal with this situation better. The emptiness is not just there; every morning when I wake up, I feel like its expanded a little more inside of me, and soon it will be all that I can feel–nothing. In my mind, I’ve made peace with all that hurts me a thousand times over, but it hasn’t changed anything.

I have accepted that we can’t force people to feel or not feel something.

I have accepted that while getting passed over sucks, it truly is better than being a Plan B.

I have accepted that not all relationships have to last a lifetime, but that does not mean we shouldn’t cherish and respect them while they do.

Every time I say these things to myself, I feel like I’m fine again, which I should be. Right? And I am, until I go to bed, wake up the next morning, and start to feel all the things that I can’t do anymore. I am just tired, I think, and there is only so many distractions that you could fit in a day.

So here I am: sitting alone in my room, already wondering what all I can do tomorrow so that I can regain whatever sense of normalcy I can. Honestly, I am just disappointed; I always believed that all the hurt and the pain and the perseverance would count for something, you know? But, guess not.

Also, while this is sufficiently terrifying and frustrating in equal proportions, I still do think I will be okay. My life is bigger than my fears, which is something I realized a few days ago when I started working on my new novel. It is called The Next Logical Step, and while I still don’t have a confirmed outline yet, it is about Samantha and Troye, two people who have no business even existing in the same universe, and definitely no business falling in love; but they do.

Personally, I’m looking forward to discovering how people can truly rise above a world of differences, and accept each other purely for their hearts. It’s my guilty pleasure you know, creating characters that are brave and never give up without a fight, especially when people in real life always choose to just stop trying so easily.

Here is a part I posted on Instagram from TNLS:

Be back soon.




Four Down, Eight To Go

Hey-lo everyone!

Nope, didn’t die. I know, I know: I’m like, indestructible.

As indestructible as an engineering undergrad with severe control freak disorder could be, which is a lot.

So, April. I swear to God it feels like at the beginning of itself, every month is like ‘I’m going to bring about my own twists and turns, and they’re going to be more epic than the one before me!’


Not funny, months. Not freaking funny.

So, camp happened. A five-day military training camp that was mandatory for all students of my class to attend. Then mom’s birthday. If you’ve been following me on Instagram (@snigdharai5), you would have seen the pictures, but if you’re not yet subscribed to me there, no worries. Links are at the end of this post.

Go, see. Revel in my glorious life.

Okay, so about the top three lessons that April taught me:

  1. My notions about love are ‘unrealistic’.
  2. I pretend to be the ‘ideal daughter’.
  3. I never have time for my ‘friends’. There is always work to do.

Surprised, are you? Well, don’t be. The above lessons were taught to me by my very dear (now, former) friends, although they didn’t mean to do it. But I’m very, very glad they did.

You know me: always about the intentions, never the facts.

To this, I don’t owe an explanation, because it’s nothing I haven’t heard before (except #2), and it’s nothing credible, considering the sources.

#1 will be decided by the one I’m in love with (or will be).

#2 is my parent’s discretion.

And #3 is completely my choice.

So, you know, these and the million other colorful qualities of mine that were enunciated by the said people, they basically stem from one thing, and one thing only: weak arguments.

Also, the thing that completely annihilates the purpose of trying to put me down is the fact that these things were not said to me directly. They were said to random people who I don’t even personally know, and have no intention of knowing ever in the near future. I mean, if you’ve got a problem, valid or not, talking behind my back ain’t going to get you anywhere, sweetheart.

If you’re really as brave as you claim to be, or you really want to get that problem solved, this is definitely not the way of doing it.

But. But.

Thank God for people who act their age, and just the general goodness in the world, that this terrible night is just one tiny black spot on an otherwise fantastically bright and cheerful memory. A big, roaring shout-out to everyone who stepped up to the right thing, and to those who stood their ground.

And of course, there isn’t a damn thing in the world that great friends (old and new), and a mad night spent dancing can’t solve!

Anyway, now that the horror story is over and done with, let’s move on to happier things.

Mom’s birthday was a hit. Check Instagram for the complete idea, but it’s safe to say that she enjoyed herself and liked all the numerous little surprises me and my sister had put together for her.

Of course, the warm fuzzies that you get when you make someone really happy are always a bonus!


I told you April was a doozy.

Anyway, now for the actual top three lessons that the month was kind enough to teach me. Here we go:

1. You learn a lot more when you walk in uninvited. Man is most himself when he talks without the fear of being heard.

2. Confidence doesn’t necessarily come from achievements. Many times, it also comes from facing shitty situations without stooping down to being a lesser person than you are.

3. Love is the key to happiness. It is, really. It can turn the worst of days around, with no effort at all.

And oh, it is never unrealistic: it’s just transient, always changing. What is love for someone may not be so for someone else. Instead of judging someone else for their choices, why not pay attention to yours?

Fun fact: I did find an explanation to accusation #1 on Buzzfeed. Here:

You, first. Always. #LibraInLove

Yep, blaming the stars. 😛

It’s time for me to leave, but before I do, here’s the link to my Instagram:

Be sure to check it out, and while you’re at it, follow.

I’ll see you guys soon. Remember, it’s now, or it’s never.



Gravel Is Gravel

There is very little in life that is susceptible to change. Once things take form, it takes a lot of effort and immense persistence to bring about even the slightest of change in them, if at all. The truth is the truth, and it may necessarily not be pretty: but we deal with it. We have to, because there is no other choice.

I don’t know where this thought came from, but it has now taken over everything in my brain, and I know I would not be able to think of anything else without first getting this one out of my system.

And what better way to do that than poetry?


I don’t have to twist the knife further,

I don’t need to anymore.

All I must do is remind you, time and time again,

Of all the mistakes you ever made,

That leave behind bad memories galore.


Call me all the names you want,

Shut the door right in my face.

Do it, shun me out of your life,

If that is what will keep you sane.


You could hate me to the ends of the earth,

Or embrace the truths I say.

Because gravel is gravel,

And the truth is the truth,

Even if you decide, every time

To pointedly look the other way.



Disclaimer: This post is not aimed at anyone at all. Please, for the love of dear God, do not take it personally. If there is any ulterior motive behind this poem, it is that I’m trying to perfect the art of writing rhyming poetry (reasons later, expect a post on Sunday).

Let me know what you guys think of it.






Day 299

Today, October 26th, happens to be the 299th day of the year. Everyone, go right ahead and pat yourself on the back for making it this far into the year. Just 66 more to go, and 2016 shall greet you.

Time got new rocket-propelled wings, I see. 😛


2015 has been a hell of a ride, honestly, up, down and sideways. But you know the thing about these terrific rides that get your heart pumping?

They get over too quick.

Which leaves you thinking back to those adrenaline-pumping moments, but thinking can only give you so much satisfaction (which, let’s be real here, isn’t that much).

I feel the same way.

2015 was over too quick. Lots of work, lots of stuff to deal with, many people riding my last nerve majority of the time, you know, the works. I think we’ve established the fact that time is a world-class trickster, tweaking the rules and your life according to its own free will.

I’ll be really honest with you, I expected a lot more from 2015. Maybe not more, but different, definitely. But then again, maybe this is for the best, who knows? Does anybody ever know how what they are doing/saying right now may or may not change their future?

No, they do not.

The allure of life lies in these little uncertainties, the little surprises that keep bobbing up to the surface every now and then, encouraging you to get through this day and onto the next. Little things, people. They do matter.

So, in honor of today being Day 299, I shall share with you people some things that I’ve discovered about myself, with and without other people’s (read Nano, and my mom) help. Are you ready? Here goes:

  • I have an Achilles’ heel: if something is broken, I want to be the one to fix it, no matter how that thing got broken/disturbed/destroyed in the first place. Maybe it’s my fault, maybe it’s not, it doesn’t matter. I’ll stoop down, swallow my pride, and try to smooth things out.
But there’s only so much you can do to fill a bottomless pit. I’ve discovered that there’s a limit to which I try; beyond that, you’re on your own. Some people believe that I’ve ‘changed’ or whatever, but I’m certain that is more to do with me (finally) objecting to things that I don’t find appropriate, than anything else.
  • I sing a lot of old Hindi songs when there’s something on my mind, pleasant or otherwise. The songs work as excellent placeholders, and save me the trouble of conversation. If you listen closely to the songs I sing (read mutter under my breath, very faintly audible), I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t ever have to say anything at all.
  • If I love someone (family/friend), there’s very little that convinces me that they’re not worth the love and care and affection. I mean it. You could literally scream right into my ear about their million flaws, and I wouldn’t listen, no joke. My relationships with people are not dependent on anybody else’s views about them, but mine. This is one thing I’m proud of, because this way, my decisions are my own. I screw up, it’s on me. I run the show here, no matter who writes the script.
  • These are two separate things, but I always connect the two of them: my fierce sense of independence, and the equally fierce (if not more) issues that I have with authority. As far being independent is concerned, I’m extremely driven, and this is something everyone who even remotely knows me, will agree with. I have a single and solid back-up plan: me. I trust people, sure. I trust people a lot, like handing out free candies at Halloween or something.
But actually counting on someone? No, thank you. This is something I’ve never done. I don’t like to stand back and watch while someone else saves the day, because I’d rather be the one doing it. This is not only about me being a feminist, but just being responsible in general. Once you get the hang of it, of being in-charge, there’s little else that satiates you the way calling the shots does.
Of course, there’s a lot more that happened in the past 298 days, but hey, there’s 66 more to go, right? Let’s just let it all happen, and then maybe I’ll make a list. Who knows? 😉
This post is random and maybe even blunt, but it was a long time coming. Sometimes, words just flow right out of you. And those, ladies and gentlemen, are the truest of them all.
I’ll see you guys later.
Miss me while I’m gone.


If the entire summer was to be compressed in a week’s time, August definitely would be Sunday, the last day of the week.

The last twenty-four hours wherein we would all try and finish all those pending things that we had decided we would accomplish, and just try our best to tie all those loose ends, and well, hope for the best.

You know, of late, I have come to believe that when you stop thinking about all those what ifs, and just take the plunge, it gets way easier (or so I hope it would). Bearing an untold story inside of yourself is the heaviest burden of them all, believe me. And once you let it out, once you let the world know, your heart gets a lot of free space.

Use it to your best, people. Really.

So, third semester started two weeks ago. College is what it is, let us just agree on that. It’s just one of those things that you have to do each day after you wake up.

Another one of those things that you do after you wake up, is to accept the truth and gather enough courage to say it out loud. Do it today, do it now. It is an extremely scary idea (and even scarier thing to actually do), but trust me, once it’s done, it’s done. There are no assumptions, no guesswork, no nothing. It’s just you, and the truth.

It is actually kind of liberating.

Don’t wait for Sunday, or August, to say the truth like I did. Do it now, as soon as you can. Distances crop up when we hold back, things just go awry. Don’t let that happen.

Like I always say, it’s now or never.

You don’t live forever, but as long as you’re alive, make the most of the seconds you get.