October, My Love.

October my love, how bittersweet you were.
Sweeping in unexpectedly, catching me off guard.
Always was I aware of your existence but,
never would I have deemed you to be the one to steal my heart.

October, my love.

So gentle.
So kind.
The leaves you shed around me were like a blanket,
a comforting antidote for my constantly troubled mind. 

You came in and along with you brought in the rain.
It cleansed me, 

saved me, from a fate worse than death,

now forever free of the sorrow, forever free of the pain.

You surprised me, you amazed me.
Igniting feelings that were so astoundingly quiet, I assumed them to be dead.
You breezed your way into my haunted thoughts,

and scattered my mind of all coherent beliefs.
All the while leaving scars not of pain, but of bliss instead.

October, my love, nothing lasts forever.
You were gone with the wind just as soon as you came.
November, bless him,

he was always such a problem child,
he thinks he can sweep me away.

But no, never you fear.
Patiently will I wait again, for when the wind takes over and the leaves begin to fall.
I'll listen expectantly, for in the sound of the rain,
I'm almost certain I will hear you call.

For October, you have my heart now. And my salvation, you will always be.
From now itself starts a new beginning,
The beginning of a hope that I will see you again.
In a new year, in a new world,
In a new time...
Won't you come back to me?

Pictures of You.

I looked at a picture of you today. Smiling, happy.
More in love than I'd ever seen you.
I'd never been lucky enough to be the reason for that brightness in the eyes that I'd so inexorably fallen for. I'd never seen a love and elation so powerful in those eyes, that it made the one looking at it want to delight in the joy of your happiness.
But those pictures could never make me smile. Truth be told, it did just the opposite. It broke me. It tore me up within, with the knowledge that I wasn't The One. The reason that that ecstasy in your life existed. The source of your pleasure and contentment. I died slowly, every time I looked at a picture...
a fresh cut...
a bloody and bruising reminder of the life you now had...
It would not let me forget.
It wasn't me, it never would be, it never could be.

I looked at a picture of you today. Smiling, happy.
And I waited. Waited for the grief to come and sweep me up in a blinding daze of tears and sadness. I waited for that hatred that my heart had gotten so used to, to overwhelm me. I waited for the pain of losing you, the pain that ran like a drug mixed with my blood, coursing through my veins, to engulf me. I was addicted to the hurt and the misery, and therefore I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
But nothing, no kind of sorrow was harnessed.
All that showed was a smile echoing acceptance.
And a new found forgiveness.

I looked at a picture of you today. Smiling, happy.
And for the first time, I smiled too.
My heart didn't stop.
The pain didn't come, my blood and body to claim.

I looked at a picture of you today. Smiling, happy.
And not a single trace of the emotions you once evoked in me, the ones that consumed me,
remains.

Love, Light and Everything in Between.

Do you hear that incessant noise? Can you see the extra 3 kgs on your weighing scale? Do you see the streets so empty yet so filled with beautiful lights? Well, if you don't, you probably don't, like Renelle, live in India and you're missing out on a lot. And she's totally making eyes at me now through the phone screen (What did you think? Computers? Pfft. #techswag)
By the way, hi, I'm Abhishta. You don't know me personally but, I don't know Bill Gates personally and I'm still surviving so, I'm sure you can live without knowing me. Also, I'm positive you don't know Renelle personally either. You don't right? RIGHT? *nervous giggle*
As a kid, Diwali, for me, was a festival when I lit a few crackers that excited the crap out of me (the really basic ones, I'm terrified of bombs), but more than that, it was that one time in the year where families came together. Whether it was going from house to house to visit family members or like the recent addition Skype calls for long distance family members. It's that time of the year when you don't mind cheating on your diet because, HELLO, 'kaaju katli', 'jalebis', 'gulab jamun'... You get the point (You can go open that box of sweets that you've been craving for, now.)
Firecrackers, somehow, are a part of Diwali that most of us have grown up with but it's also alarming for the environment. All I can say is, there should be a limit on firecrackers and please don't buy those Butterflies, I almost died because of one of those.
So light a diya or a sparkler, make 'rangolis', eat truckloads of sweets (cheating or not), I'll be here having Nutella on bread listening to Ed Sheeran songs, sitting at my window, enjoying my Diwali with Renelle on Google Hangouts, while she drives this blog home.
Take it away, Perairs.
Yes. That was Abhishta. Who is Abhishta, you ask? No? Well, I'm going to answer it anyway. Abhishta is my charming, happy-go-lucky, curly haired, unbelievably humorous best friend AKA the happier half of me. Yes, this is a collab blog post of funny and profound and I don't know how Abhishta forgot to mention this at the start. (She was probably too busy RUBBING SALT ON MY WOUNDS) We wanted to do this so bad. Why? Because we're awesome. Even though we're fully aware that nobody gives two shits about what we wanna say or our feelings and our emotions or what we do in life. Speaking of life, now I'm supposed to get all philosophical, after Abhishta just talked about KAJU KATLI AND GULAB JAMUN?! How is this even fair. Sigh.
I miss Diwali.
I miss Abhishta.
I miss mithai.
Ugh I miss everything.
Why you gotta be so rude, life?
You'd think, living in the City of Dreams, I would not lack light in my life. The brightness of Time Square. Laughter and love all around me, filling my entire being. Billboard signs and Taylor Swift, singing "Welcome to New York. It's been waiting for you!" But that couldn't be further from the truth. Every second of every minute of every hour of everyday I am still constantly searching for my light. For that one sparkling beam that will bring me home, to my destiny. While the light of diyas and lanterns beautifully fill up my home in India, my light- the light within me, that final brilliant burning brightness that will give meaning to my existence, still needs to be found. I am nowhere close to finding it yet, and sometimes it even seems an impossible feat. But I know, that I cannot give up. I will not give up. Because whenever a new day dawns and light from the sun illuminates my heart, it allows me to believe, to hope, that I am one step closer to that light that will bring me back to life.
Diwali, you marvelous, mesmerizing festival, I am here in another world, in another time, ready to embrace the new hope you bring every year, that someday, somehow I will find my ray of light...
In the meantime, Google Hangouts with Bishta is the perfect way to celebrate because her faith, along with so many others all these years, that one day I will shine, is what has kept my darkened heart alive.
Hey Abs Lalu, this philosophical enough for you?
Happy Diwali, peace and all our love. (Go get your own Nutella, we're not sharing)
From two best friends living on opposite sides of the world, but closer than they've ever been,
Abs Lalu & Elle Perairs.

P.S: For those of you who don't live in India, Gulab Jamun is an Indian sweet that will make your heart sigh. (Look at us. Acting like we have readers all over the world)
P.P.S: We actually, quite literally did this over chat and Google Hangouts. Do y'all have a friendship this amazing? We think not. (Forgive us, we have no social life.)

Two Sides Collide.

I have faith. I lack belief.
I have hope. Hopelessness overwhelms me.
I am alive. I am dead within
I breathe. I am crushed with suffocation.

I deserve better. I am not worthy.
I live. Only barely.
I am happy. Grief engulfs me.
I laugh. Will my silent sore tears,
Ever leave me be?

I love you.
Do I?
Please don't leave me. Stay away, step aside.
I forgive you.
Can I?
I am newly whole. Torn up inside.
I am ready.
Am I?

I am willing. I am terrified.


I hold onto angels. My soul, demons embrace.

Dear Love.

Dear Love,
I know it's been a while since we talked. I've been avoiding you because, honestly, I took a disliking to you. See I was under the impression that you had done me wrong. I let myself believe that you were this wrathful hellish emotion that wanted to leave me with nothing but a shattered heart. You hurt me once, how could I trust that you would not do it again? I cut you off, blocked you out for the sole reason that I wanted to live without you.

I must admit, I was fine for a while. Or at least that's what I kept telling myself. I didn't need you, I didn't want you. Envy, pride, Recklessness, they were all so much better than you ever were. I was better off without you.

One day, however something went wrong. Out of nowhere, I began to miss you. To need you. Reminiscing the feeling of loving and being loved overwhelmed me to a point where, all I could think about was you. I still didn't say it though. I was still stubborn enough to not let you in again.

It took me a while but eventually I realized, that you were not to blame. You weren't the one who hurt me. You tried to make it better, and I being myself, didn't quite comprehend your actions. I let the age old stereotype of 'love is painful and irrational' change my mindset.

See, what I did Love, was mistake you for Grief. I didn't think to distinguish between you two. I didn't think that it was Grief that sneaked it's way in and made you look like the culprit. When I think about the memories you gave me, all I recall is being the happiest I've EVER been. I was in love, I was loved. I was wanted, needed. I made someone happy at the mere thought of my existence, just as my heart did numerous double takes at the thought of them. I was somebody's person and they were mine. And nothing, could shake that feeling off.

Then when things went wrong and Grief set in, I thought it was you.
When Grief brought me down to my knees on a bathroom floor, I thought it was you.
When Grief took every ounce of strength I had, and put it into frequent sobs on the side of my pillow case, I though it was you.
When Grief made me believe that I would not be in this state, had I kept my heart caged and protected, I thought it was you.

When Grief left me with nothing, but make-belief solace at the bottom of a bottle, I thought it was you.

Grief, tore me and broke me and ripped every ounce of my self-worth and all that time...all that time I thought I was you.
And I hated you for it.
I swore to never let you in again, because I never wanted to feel that pain again.

People often do that, don't they? Mix up Love with Grief and then preach to the whole world, that love is painful, and overrated. It isn't love that leaves one broken and bruised, it's the idea of losing it. The pain of losing it. The grief that comes with the departure of something you hold extremely close to your heart.

Dear Love,
I'm sorry. I miss you. I miss that feeling. The positivity that I was invincible, that came with you. I miss being someone's person. I miss having my own.

Dear love,
I'm terrified at the prospect of loving again. I'm terrified of you. I'm terrified of letting you in again. But I'm ready. When Grief sweeps in, trying to sabotage our relationship, I will not give up. I am ready.

Dear Love,

I am ready.

Falling For The Enemy.

The storm rages outside, as He walks in and every eye in the room sparks up.
Through and through, you can see their souls catch fire.
Aware of the effect he has, he silently delights in the bliss of every coherent thought he disrupts.

But he doesn't stop, doesn't look to see the heads turn- men and women alike.
No, he begins to walk my way...
With all but one goal in mind.

It's hard to look away from the man making his way towards me,
His eyes, a deep sinful brown, seem to have me in a trance.
Despite the crowd, the atmosphere, the music, this perfect manifestation of a Greek God, is literally the only thing I can see.

He smiles as he gets closer, and I feel myself mirror his expression.
There was a time when I tried to shut him and his charming ways out..
..but when was I ever one to not give in...

He's the devil, I know he is.
But the ruffle in is hair begs to differ.
The wet strands curl slightly at the nape of his neck...
And it's all I can do to keep from running them through my fingers.

As he sits down next to me, I see all the markings of a bad boy, the dynamite in his eyes, the friskiness in his crooked smile.
Those lips of his will do nothing, but leave back bittersweet tingling marks.
Was I always a sucker for his kind?

I am not breaking down anymore.
He may have fixed me to a point where I might not ever crash or burn again,
I am basking in the warmth of this compelling being's affection.
His only goal being wanting to take away every past moment of my pain.

The rain pours with more gusto, and the thunder crashes ever so loudly,
But this man, and his charms ignite a fire that burns way too fiercely

When he pulls in to plant a soft kiss on my cheek and the whole room seems to heave out a sigh,
My whole being swells up with happiness at the thought, that this boy is MINE.

I have fallen for Change.

And Never...
Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined him to be this good. 

Scars.

They caught a man harassing a woman on the street.
But little do they know, the verbal harassment he weighs on her, daily.

They found a girl, brutally raped lying in an abandoned house somewhere in a deserted city.
Little do they know his brutal insults mentally strip her naked, daily.

When she decides to fight back, the world judges her.
When she doesnt, the world judges her.

Screams heard from within the house, paint her as the culprit while he comes out, helpless and taken as the victim.
They look at him with pity, while their eyes follow her path, with thinly disguised malignity...
...But little do they know, her shouts of protest, are the result of his cruel words breaking her spirit, thwarting her mind, leaving her uncomfortable in her own skin.

Words, they say make a person.
Words, they say break them too.

What however, of the words that do neither the former nor the latter, but instead leave a being dangling, suffering..
...looking...
...grasping...
for little hopeless shreds of hope.

He breaks her, hurts her, cuts her up with words sharper than knives, leaving her body lifeless and sore.
And she...she gives in to this poison that she knows will make death inevitable but very very painfully slow.

While the world convicts a man for wounding a woman physically for everyone to know.

The firebreather that once stole her heart, damages her mentally with words...
...leaving scars that will never show.