Nostalgia.

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Met in the library
I gave you a pen
Became my best friend
I didn’t realise when

You stuck by me
Through thick and thin
We became a team
like Tonic and Gin

That Mumbai attitude
That gujju mind
Another one like you
Where will I find?

Those Preeti outings
And the late-night walks
our intense discussions
And the non-sense I talk

Those three days of Waves
with "limca" in my bag
your endless work
and the Co-Co tag!

Your ENI courses
my chemical Labs
the HQ brunches
and the Media cab

You were a priority
Like amazon prime
I’ll say “Always”
After all this time.

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All time highs

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Turning Twenty-five

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The stolen shot glasses

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The winter refuses to end. It gets warm for a couple of days, I declare that winter has finally come to an end, and what do I wake up the next morning? Ahh! It has rained again, so crawl under your blankets people. This touch and go winter game, has caught up with me. Unable to go to work, I decide to work on my blog today. I was going through my older blog posts and came across one called Clutter, where I talk about how all the clutter/junk we have in our lives is not non-sensical junk but actually tidbits of memories, each telling us a different story. This post reminded me of a very sweet story, that I think deserves it's own post. So here it goes. I call it "The stolen shot glasses". I think it was my 4th year and I was hanging with a couple of my friends. It was the four people, three of us dual degree students and were always neck deep in assignments and labs and projects and whatnot. Chemical engineering put a serious damper in our college lives!  So yeah, one...
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ज़िन्दगी है चौराहा नहीं भीड़ नहीं चाहिए इन रास्तो मे मुलाकते तोह हुई मुलाकातों के संग थोड़ी बातें भी हुई रोकेगे न हम तुमको कुछ यही समझ कर जाईये ज़िन्दगी है चौराहा नहीं भीड़ नहीं चाहिए नेक हो अगर इरादे तोह कुछ पल तुम रुक जाना वरना जिस रास्ते से आये वही वापस चले जाइये ज़िन्दगी है चौराहा नहीं भीड़ नहीं चाहये
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"Doing our own thing, together"

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