Thought Jukebox

(As published in BVDUMC's annual student magazine, Elixir ) On the 24th of April, 2019, my mind goes back to the rare opportunity I had, this past year- an opportunity to sit down and have a conversation, a myriad of discussions on a variety of topics- with a legend. What unfolded was a conversation unlike any other- wherein I got to take a peek at the man beyond the façade of the World’s Greatest Cricketer. Presenting to you... Sachin: The Man in The Mirror There’s only so much that goes on inside a person’s head, as they wait with bated breath, for an opportunity not many could have claimed to have been blessed with. Indeed, I was one of the lucky ones, and while I sat, in Sachin Tendulkar’s living room, a million questions and thoughts paced back and forth my mind. “What question do I start with?”, “How do I greet him?”, “What should I-“, the door swung open and a twinkling-eyed, cheerful living legend rushed in, greeting and smiling as he made his way to the c...

To China, with love, There’s something about looking out of an airplane window, at 30,000 feet, over the Malacca Strait, witnessing waterfalls of clouds and pirate ships- as they welcome you aboard your journey to Neverland. Yes, indeed, I felt like I was on a flight to Neverland- grown up enough to travel safe and solo, yet young enough to experience life as the adventure it’s meant to be. There’s something about being welcomed into a country, with ships and lights and lanterns and you tell yourself- that this, this is just a layover, silly girl. Yet stepping afoot a new country, I felt like I finally found my true smile, like I was seeing the world for the first time. You see, it’s been a while since I had my BOM-SIN-BEI round trip experience, but the memories are still so alive. Its all the tiny pocket dimensions that I created that help me travel back and forth those moments of perfection, those fleeting moments of eternity. You see, my mind-...

I’m reckless. Recklessly unapologetic for what I’m about to say. Recklessly unapologetic for being who I truly am. I have a bold sense of fashion…that doesn’t make sense to you. I love hip-hop and R&B music that simply is too loud for you. I paint pretty aesthetics of Revolution all over my Instagram…but my selfies are too selfish for you. I share my flaws. But you are too busy hiding your vanities to see that.  I run away from responsibilities, I give up rather than grow up. My dreams are just fantasies- I don’t see reality for what it is, do I? You say I was fed with a silver spoon on a silver platter and that I take my entitlement for granted. Don’t you remember bottle-feeding me expectations and ideals I could not meet? I mean- of course, I am encouraged to be myself…if that’s what the world needs. And yes I am encouraged to be empathetic…but only when the world bleeds. You call us the lost generation. And I am struck with the para...

To you who left an echo of your pain, And to you who needed a corpse to remind you you’re human. This is your tape. Tape 1, Side A & B I know life is not your favourite color right now, but, truth be said, even a black or a white is better than being blind. (Personally, no color will ever be brighter and purer to me than black and white but if colours and broken crayons matter to you, this one’s for you.) The world is not simple enough to accommodate mere shades of grey; it begins with a white palette and hands you the paintbrush. Your life, your easel, the colours of your soul. Tape 2, Side A & B Remember the night you went stargazing? Aren’t stars just carefully bandaged lights, darling? Perhaps, the paint red would suit the town more than your wrists! Or, or, or! Paint your bedroom ceiling with starry skies and the heavens above, love! Mark the memories that hurt you so they can become the stars that enchant you. Tape 3, Side A & B Question. Wonder. Talk. Sho...

Dear Odette,  I refuse to make this yet another story of love, But my thoughts are all over the place. Everyone has heard enough of my thoughts, my odes, my sonnets, my plight. This, is an apology to the way love fades, disappears, Maybe because the world ruined happiness for me, Or maybe because I got so used to making excuses for my love. Love that didn’t love, Love that wasn’t love, Love that didn’t know how to. If I just knew how to love…me. Maybe I wouldn’t ruin happiness for me. I wouldn’t have to make excuses for me. This is an apology- an apology for love letters I never meant. And love letters for apologies I never sent. This is me saying sorry for not believing you hold true to your name. You’re not just a painting; you’re a work of art. This is me saying sorry for not seeing every inch of you is a myriad of colours- shades of lilac painted across a perfectly calm storm. This is me saying sorry for robbing your eyes of their Starr...