Oblivion

As I make my way from the airport to Bangalore city, nearly six years after I departed from it, memories flood back to me. I reminisce about the time I spent here, recalling one of my closest friends who used to reside near the airport, close to that massive mall. Instinctively, I yearn to visit her - the version of her from back then, in that old neighborhood where I used to travel long hours over the weekends just to be with her. She was like a home to me during those times, always there when I needed her, whether it was after getting too high from smoking up or during moments of conflict with others. We would spend hours watching random TV shows and engaging in heartfelt conversations. Mornings would find us cuddled together, reluctant to face the realities of our adult lives and the responsibilities that accompanied them. I remember driving through the chaotic Bangalore traffic for two hours just to be by her side when she was sick and alone. Our bond was akin to that of family; in...

Last week, I had a really lovely dream and woke up nostalgic and happy, with almost a smile. Context: I took a week-long break from work, so my mind was quite at ease and not worrying about meetings and deliverables.  Alright, so coming back to my dream. I am in my college room (the one I lived in during my 3rd year). I was maybe visiting campus or coming back after a break, but that wasn't very clear to me. Alright, so I am in my room, and it is very cluttered and full of things such as books, photographs, clothes, guitars, harmoniums, pens, notebooks with a clothing line going right through the middle of the room, and whatnot.  As I took a closer look at the things in the room and checked the cupboard, it started returning to me. These are things that I have lost or forgotten about, all sitting in that room for me to discover and explore. There is a pile of books, and atop is a Manchester United book that I had gifted my husband last year on his birthday while we were in Goa...

I tear up every time I leave Goa. Life is so different from what I imagined it would be back in college. I can't stress enough how different people are, and not just how different I have become, for the better, of course. Life is not bad; it's half-decent, but just not what 22-year-old me thought it would be like. Goa is my innocence. I was a naive little kid, drinking, eating fries, and having fun. Oh, and cheese garlic naan. Can't forget cheese garlic naan. Goa and BITS, they are home. They hold so much and have given me so much. I am indebted forever. People often ask me, 'It's been three years since I graduated, and I am still that excited to go back.' It's just a different world there, a different time, a familiar yet different feeling. Recently, I have been exploring the mountains, going trekking, sitting by the streams, driving through those clouds—the whole thing. And I have to say, it's wonderfully different. I have been on a couple of trips, an...

Today I sat with my mom and cleaned my college room. And I realized I was a hoarder! I just have too much stuff in the small hostel room of mine. And most of it is pretty useless, just sitting in the corner, accumulating dust, occupying space. I did not have any reason to have them there, adding to the existing clutter in my room, but they just had to be there. My mom would throw these things and I would quietly put some of them back in my pocket. And she just could not understand why! At the beginning neither could I. While cleaning out my room, something I realized was that this junk, crap in my room, wasn't just random useless stuff lying around. It was memories I had accumulated over the last 3.5 years in my college. This "junk" was my college. I had a pair of broken sunglasses from a road trip I took with my friends a year ago, I had the department ID card from my first ever Waves (our cultural fest), a drink stirrer from one of the many many nights,...

"Trust is like a mirror, you can fix it if it's broken, but you can still see the crack in the reflection" Trust is something extremely delicate. It takes years to build and just a second to break. It is flimsier than a soap bubble. Just one prick and everything is gone, just like that. People say heart break is tough and devastating, but I feel it is comparatively easy to recover from, but if someone's trust breaks it is almost impossible to rebuild. Its like that one tiny crack that just keeps leaking no matter what you try to do about it. Plaster it, tape it or cement it, nothings works. It might stop leaking for a while but you know it is bound to come back.  You might try all you want, try to put things behind you, have a clean slate, turn over a new leaf, but that little smidge of doubt does not go away, it is always there. It is self preservation, and why not. It is in our nature to protect ourselves. Trust requires a track record, so you just can...

This semester I took a course called "Introduction to western music" with two of my friends and today was our last class. I wasn't required to but it seemed interesting and easy, plus I had already done music earlier so I assumed I would pretty much know most of the things and would get a head start. Within the first few classes only I realized, that I did not have much of an advantage because western and hindustani are completely different. The first few weeks were fun, we sang and danced in the class and I really had a good time. That was one class I would always look forward to and I tried never to miss. Things were all fine and then we were given the assignment to perform a musical in a group of 23 or so people. This was a huge turning point in the course. We performed the musical called "Mamma Mia" and somehow I ended up with the role of the main character.  While preparing for the musical me and friends had some disagreements which turned into a...