Miss Confused's Diary

I can write a lot on this, honestly. I have had my fair share of friends. While life moved on, friends that were just meant to be stayed on. The ones that were just meant to be acquaintances got weeded out. It's not just me. I am sure that's how it is. Life.  The ones who stayed behind are special to me. We have stories that are unique just to us. Ages go by without one single text message, no signs of any contact or being in touch, and then Padam! Dishoom! One of us will remember "Hey! I have a friend that I still love so much and I wonder what happened to them." It all starts with a message (or two!) and what ensues afterward is a barrage of texts- incoming, outgoing, loads of dings. In Hindi we say - Aur dekhte hi dekhte kaise waqt nikal gaya pata nahi chala.  I am always amazed. I am amazed at the magic there is in the friendships that I have and how cherished and loved these friendships manage to make me feel.  I am blessed. All the times when life throws curveba

 I went out on a walk with my Baba today. It was not quite 6 in the evening. These days we hardly go out, as it is sweltering hot out. But, "Indradev" promised some respite, and the welcome drop in the temperature in the midst of summer, felt like the "Jayabheri" for the upcoming rain. Having exhausted my metaphors, let's move ahead.  One moment I saw kids playing at this park in our colony, and the next moment the mothers in the park started shooing their kids back home. With them gone, we finally found a bench to sit on, Baba and I. I wondered why the kids were already back home. Was it the heat? Was it study time already! But isn't it summer vacation time! Suddenly, I got reminded of what my mother used to say when I was a teeny weeny kid. "Come back home when you can spot 4 stars in the sky!" It was my grandma's cardinal rule too, Maa says. Funnily I hardly went out to play, so I hardly followed that rule. But I loved to ride my cycle, a He

It is getting dark outside. But not quite. The yellow light of the lamp post is shining, and there is a pool of light below on the ground. As I said earlier, it is not pitch dark yet. Stormy winds are blowing. The storm isn't here yet. The lights at home are out, and I am outside, sitting on a weathered wooden stool; meditative music playing on my phone, Spotify setting the tone of the evening. I am sitting out, but not quite outside. I am still in the cocoon of my house, on the verandah, patio whatever it's called. The big gate is looming in front of me. Mosquitoes are humming to the anticipation of my blood. Nah, I know it's their wings flapping. They don't want to make a single sound, wanting to creep up surreptitiously, as noiselessly as possible. Yet here they are, betrayed by their own wings.  I am reading a book called Sputnik Sweetheart. I am on a Murakami spree these days. trying to give up my phone addiction. Am I there yet? Nah, not quite.  I feel like the mo

                      It is interesting how Ali Abdaal's video on " How writing online made me a millionaire" encouraged me to look back on this blog that I had created, 10 years back. Looking back, I realized how innocent I was and how it reflected in my writing - my naivete, my honesty, and my feelings. Many things have changed since. I am not the spunky kid that I used to be, full of dreams and hope. Experience and life occupied those 10 years. I studied at the University of Hyderabad for a degree that taught me how to be open to different things that life throws at you (Systems Biology- also Uni changed the name of this Course to Biology, which I find lame). I also enrolled in a Ph.D. program that didn't work out (I held out for as long as I could though, 4 years, my goodness!). A few days back, my friends who were together since school days, became parents; many others are marrying while many others are comfortably settled in their jobs, posting Insta posts of th