Forgotten Trinkets

During my recent move, I stumbled upon this sketch I made over twelve years ago, and it made me smile and sigh at the same time. I smiled because it whisked me back to my teens when I’d lock myself in my room gorging on Harlequin romances, and sighed because it still feels just like yesterday!

Mills & Boon books were my guilty pleasure at fourteen, filling me with butterflies, and probably some of the delusions I carry to this day! I remember deciding to recreate the book cover of “A Wife in Waiting”, and grabbed my 2B pencil, then moved to pencil colors, and then to a black pen. Halfway through an overwhelming urge to draw skeletons (instead of the protagonists “Josie” and “Dacre”) took over me. I resisted at first, but let it take over eventually. I couldn’t put the black pen down again.

I usually keep most of my sketches private, but I’m starting to embrace my style more and more. When people look at my sketches, they often react with concerns or counsel. Yes, it’s dark, and moody, and might ruin your day. But, I think that’s what I do best. Not ruining your day I mean, but capturing the darker emotions.

It is harder to make someone smile or laugh, hands down. But I don’t think I chose the art, the art chose me. And if I’m being honest, I love how deeply I can feel these emotions, and translate them into my art and my writing.

Original book cover

Valentine’s

Last Friday, I wanted to write about love. But I had just moved into a new apartment, so the natural scramble to unbox my journal ensued. (Pen and paper? Yes, I’m old school.). I found it after going through five boxes and as I sat down on my chaise by the window, my gaze caressed the New Yorker building. “This is love too!”, I’d thought. So I got carried away into what became my last post. But oh well, let’s talk about the “love” love.

The song “आपा फेर मिलांगे” or “Apa fer Milaangey” has been all over social media lately. I’m not the one to keep up with the trends but recently a friend posted a reel with the song in the background, and that’s when it caught my eyes and ears. I looked it up on Spotify and I was not disappointed. I understand the language Punjabi just enough to get the “vibe” of the song and it’s different. It’s probably autotuned like every other song these days, but it does not seem “autotuned” right away, if you know what I mean. It almost sounds like a dude wrote a song for his girl and recorded it in his basement, and I mean it in a good way! Because that’s rare now, and that taps into something few songs do.

If you’re a Hindi/ Punjabi speaker, or just love to explore music from all over the world like me 🙂

One example is “Hey there Delilah” and I tried to think why these songs make me feel the way they do. Is it because they’re happy and sad and hopeful and hopeless at the same time? So my brain is basically scrambled, and I don’t know what to feel? Does it take me back to a specific time or a specific someone? I don’t think it’s either. Maybe the answer is it’s just heartfelt and simple. No frills, no bells, no whistles – just a slice of someone’s life; a love that was so great it was bigger than the people in it. So it got immortalized in the song, and continues to bring comfort to who it touches.

It’s been a minute I were in love, well seven years. And I only realized it recently. For even when I might have dated after, and even when they might have been long-term monogamous committed relationships, I was never “in love”. How is this possible! What is even love! Maybe I’ll think about that another time. But I’m glad I was in love once upon a time. I strongly recommend falling in love to everyone. 🙂

It was young love, and the best kind. Maybe because it was so innocent. Even though I was just seventeen, I knew I could fight every human on the planet for this man. And by the way, when you’re sixteen, you most likely pick the wrong man. But that does not even matter, you move on. I think love is the most selfless and the most selfish emotion. On one hand I would give my life for this person in a heartbeat, and on the other hand, I would not want to share them with anyone (and I don’t mean it in an unhealthy way!).

I remember there was always an “us” in every decision, even when we were nineteen and making plans for when we would be thirty five. Those make-believe scenarios from future family dinners, or family vacations, or imaginary kids. I remember dressing up in the morning for college and rushing back in to swap my red scarf with blue because he liked it on me. He was a priority even with all the craziness around, and I knew if the world was ending tomorrow, and if I could save only one person, that would be him, even though it meant I’d have to walk through hellfire for the next eternity. Every bone in my body, and every inch of my skin was in love with this human. Now looking back at it as I’m older and wiser, in all reality, it was probably the most incompatible match of everyone I’ve ever dated, but when you fall for someone, you just do. There is no rhyme or reason. I was all in, heart, body, and soul and I gave it everything I had. And maybe that’s why love has been so hard to come by again. It’s not like you get a set quota of love to spend in life, but when you see something so pure and great like that die, you start holding back. So maybe it’s only heart the next time or only soul or only body. And sometimes when muscle memory kicks in nudging you to dive in, you spend too long sitting on the fence. Maybe you overcome that eventually, maybe you don’t.

But if you’re reading this today from your fence, I hope you find the courage to make the leap one more time. One more time is ALL you need in this lifetime. Belated Happy Valentine’s Day!

This playlist is collaborative, add your faves 🙂

People watching

I grew up on books and media that perpetuated the idea that a person came with many layers; layers that you unravel slowly, gently, assiduously, and then, maybe, over time, when you’re worthy, and win their hearts and soul, they reveal their innermost, most vulnerable, and most intimate selves to you. And I believed in that notion like religion. So I believed when people told me this new neighbor was tough as a nail but gooey mush inside. And I’m not going to lie, I have heard a few people say that about me too. But this evening, as I was listening to Radiohead with some weirdly unrelated documentary in the background, I had a realization. And I got to typing my thoughts again.

You don’t strip a person naked; you don’t unravel them, and there are probably no shells to break, no layers to peel, no yarn to be undone, and no codes to crack. People are seeds when you meet them, and they grow around you. People are probably the greatest receptors. They absorb your gaze, they read your lips, and they watch your fingers as they move. They are taking everything in, and subconsciously you are too.

People are probably the most vulnerable when they make that first eye contact with you. It’s a conscious decision to let you in from there on, and it starts with a blank slate. I want you to think of that first moment when you met someone important in your life – maybe a friend or a foe. You had no idea, did you? That first conversation, that first eye contact, the first spark that becomes the fuel for the rest of your relationship, whether you are friends, lovers, neighbors, or work buddies. It always starts raw. You have already seen them naked, and then everything you say and do together starts sprouting this mesh that engulfs you both, and you ride it out. The more you engage, the more it grows, and like anything else, it can grow into a beautiful flower, or a weed you would rather pluck out of your lives. But, you always grow with each interaction- both as an individual and together. You create this complex, inexplicable, metaphysical, almost magical entity between you, which is almost as alive as the both of you. That’s why no two friendships are alike, and no two relationships will ever be the same. This essence you have both created is unique to every interaction you will have. And I probably cannot begin to fathom the gravity of this, but you might question, well then, if every interaction with a person creates something brand new, why don’t we remember every person we meet? And I would dare to say, just like some scents are forgettable, and just like some days roll into another, some interactions simply do not stand out. Is that a reflection of that person? No. What doesn’t tickle your soul maybe someone else’s lifeline. You might question, well, by that theory, are you saying it’s my fault when a person mistreats me? Is it because of a signal I gave that this song that we created just doesn’t let me sleep at night? And the answer is no. People come in all shapes and sizes, and yes people lie, cheat, and sadly take advantage of each other. Does a cheater cheat everyone? Maybe not. Does a murderer murder everybody? I hope not. So, is it your fault they cheated on you? No. It’s just a reflection of their energy, not yours. Sometimes, there’s no excuse for things. And that’s what makes people so complex- we spend lifetimes figuring them out. Doesn’t my theory then meet its immediate pitfall? I’d dare to say no. No theory can explain everything (Sorry Hawking!), and mine has exceptions too. And maybe, when I grow older and wiser, I will have another epiphany again, but for now, this will do.

Humans, in general, are also good at pattern recognition, so sometimes, when you begin building this castle with this new person, it reminds you of another castle you built years ago, and how lonely you felt inside it. So you do not want to see this castle through completion, and that’s fine. It may be your instincts coming in to your rescue, your intellect ringing alarm bells, or just the fear of that reeking trauma again. And that’s okay too. The alarms may just be your gut reminding you that you’re not ready yet and need to heal a little more to go down that path. Listen to your gut, it rarely lies.

And then you may question, well then, shouldn’t someone challenge themselves or dare? And there is no right answer to that. At the end of the day, every experience you build should make you happy. Your definition of adrenaline or dopamine may be someone else’s Prozac. And now I see you rolling your eyes and going, “Well, those are chemicals; they have the same effect on people!” Maybe they do, but at the end of the day they react with the chemistry of your body, and just like Feve Delicieuse smells almost irresistible on one of my gal pals, and absolutely sickening on me, it’s not the same. It’s also why I’m not writing a medical journal, but seeking the familiar comfort of words and literature to work through my thoughts.

If you think about it, navigating life is just navigating through people and their complex thoughts. You are probably not the missing piece to someone’s puzzle, but I can assure you, you’re going to have a heck of fun solving some zig saws with some and will feel like playing escape room with some others. There, I said everything if it gave you food for thought and maybe nothing if it left you confused. But, I’m really hoping this leaves a contended smile on a few faces thinking about these castles, songs, bouquets, and tapestries you have built with these very important people in your life, and that you cherish your growth a little more today.

Without Love

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You think you’re okay
and then, every once in a while,
you stumble upon that beautiful verse,
that disarming canvas of art,
that balmy air up the mountain,
and it just stops your heart.
Because you remember
what it was like to be in love!
To be irrevocably intoxicated,
unabashedly euphoric,
and hopelessly undone.

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An Open Letter to my Ex

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Dear Ex boyfriend,

I miss you sometimes. You, or the idea of you, I’m not sure. Never mind. Today is one such day.

Let’s try to catch up. I met a lot of people in the short span of the life after you. You will never know about them. I’m sure you have come a long way too and there’s no turning back.

Apparently, I am an amazing kisser. Apparently, I am not as bloated as you made me believe. Apparently, I am a strong woman and it turns out, I have dreams and aspirations too.

“How could he leave you?”

“How can anyone leave you?”

But, then,

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