Turning To Caffeine

I get that warm gushy, mushy feeling
as the last of the coffee swirls in my mouth,
crashing against the pink walls
it is controlled in, all the juices
from the body, blending perfectly
with the milk, and coffee, and water
and sugar from the pantry below the rooms.

I nestle comfortable in my chair,
my spine jutting with ease with the
Styrofoam under the red, cheap cloth
my knee perched up, ankle left loose
on the steel hand rest of the chair;
my ponytail playing chase with the
the slight air that the fan sends in my way.

Arms across the chest, my eyelids flutter,
just as they do when I feel droopy, the head
reminding me of the paper that I have due
and my heart, of the feather-like mattress
that crushes under me each night; as the eyes
shut close, the world starts to breathe and stops
as the smell of coffee warms my nostrils, yet again.

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Thank You, School.

Tu Shaheen hai parwaaz hai kaam tera;
Tere saamne aasman aur bhee hain
– Iqbal

“You are a falcon. Soaring high is your nature. There are skies yet for you to conquer.”

January 30, 2016. School’s over. Forever. Twelve years in a place that I sometimes hated, sometimes loved, despised, desired, longed for, a place that became my second home over the years is no longer my own, and all I wish, contrary to what I’ve been wishing the past twelve years, is that it doesn’t end, not now, not forever.

Squad Goals ❤

Babu Bhaiya

A fraction of XII-E

My girls- Bhoppan^2

After-farewell lunch with favorites.

My school has given me knowledge, it has given me strength and support. It has taught me to trust and to believe in the goodness of people. It has taught me to think beyond myself and in the power of relationships not bound by blood. It has taught me all that I know and will be the foundation of all that I will ever know. But most of all, it has taught me about me, about myself, my identity, my strengths and weaknesses. I have found myself and there is probably no one else, albeit my parents, who I can credit this to.

My school is not the best school in the world. It is not the worst school in the world. It doesn’t have the best teachers, the best students, the best infrastructure, but my school has what no other will. It has my childhood- all the dropped food, spoilt skirts, torn papers, table art, my blood, my name, my tears, my laughter, every inch of me that once existed there- in the classrooms I’ve been in, in the tiny scribbling on the walls and the desks and the corridors and the school ground and the auditorium and the swimming pool and the basketball court and the canteen and the middle and junior block and beside the hostels and the bookshop and the uniform shop and the library and the computer and physics and chemistry labs and in the reception and maybe memories of my favourite teacher and my favorite junior and somehow, somehow, that is enough for me to feel like the luckiest student in the world- to have had the privilege of studying in the best school in the world. I can say with pride that I am a Apeejayite forever.

Perhaps yesterday was the last time I’d ever be there, perhaps it is the beginning of reminiscence and nostalgia that I would feel when I talk about my school and when I would bring my children to be here, but the memories of the times spent here, the bonds made, the teachers who cared for us like our mothers, will stay with me forever, till my last breath.

In the course of twelve years, I made some amazing friends, some who aren’t friends anymore, some with whom I’ve grown closer, some who have been there since forever, some who left midway, trusting me to cherish the memories- Anahita, Anusha, Simran, Riti, Sakshi, Aideed, Naru, Ekam, Rishabh, Arushi, Akriti, Preetika, Kriti, Ishika, Mansi, Aayush, Garima, Pragya, Mahima, Nitya, Ananya, Shreshth, Mayank, Kritika, Ishmeet, Rahul, Aayushi, Preetha, Kareen, Falguni, Dhruvi, Deepika, Raksha -to name some of them, and some amazing teachers, to whom I’m indebted to- Anju Ma’am, Bipasha Ma’am, Surabhi Ma’am, Rukmini Ma’am, Manjari Ma’am, Kumkum Ma’am, Alka Ma’am, Ashu Ma’am, Salila Ma’am, Varun Sir, Kanchan Ma’am, Lubna Ma’am, Susmita Ma’am, Meenakshi Ma’am, Ruby Ma’am- to name a few who have moulded me, comforted me, understood me, and loved me.

But as they say, every end brings a new beginning. This was just one chapter in my life, a pretty prolonged one at that, but it will always be with me. This is curtain drawn on a part of my life, a piece of heart left behind. And it will be there. And it will be here. And for the moment, that is enough.

“Besides, what makes any highschool special? That’s where it all happened for the first time, the pain, the heartache, the happiness.”

Happy Teacher’s Day!

 To know why Teacher’s Day is celebrated in India, click here.

A very happy late teacher’s day to each and everyone who continue to motivate, inspire and and keep us awed. Thank you for everything you’ve done, even if you may not know it.

Unravelling Broken Threads.

After numerous conversations, heated arguments and many debates later, I have arrived at the conclusion that I’m going to post pages from the story I had worked on for quite some time and is presently on a standstill due to infinite reasons excuses. I’d started writing this when on September 16, 2014 after an idea hit me like thunder. I worked on it religiously for about a month or so, and then it started happening sporadically. Now, it is on a standstill. I’ve since then struggled to continue but nothing worth writing hits me. Maybe your feedback will help me to write further.

The response I get after posting the first 3-4 chapters will determine whether I continue to post the story or not.

So presenting to you the cover of Unravelling Broken Threads.

Unravelling The Threads is about a girl named Jennifer, whose mind functions on a frequency very different from her family. Her ego and status at school is hurt by Nick, who after repeated attempts to befriend her, challenges her to participate and win the school elections to be held the next month. What follows is Jennifer’s journey from a unpopular, arrogant, unfriendly person to becoming the most popular candidate in the elections, tracing her life, making friends and memories, in face of all that suffocated her inside. Friendship, romance and memories all come together to give a story worth reading and cherishing. 

I’m Grateful For My Friends.

My friends are officially the best people I can come across, the best group I have had. So awesome! So, today our school closed for the summer break. These guys, Chammu, Gavaran, Sackseaa and Naru brought for Bhopp Petiss- which is me- a pie because a cake would have been too much for us five, to cut with a spoon, and then got me a gift for a birthday that is a ten days away. Andd Chammuu made a MARAUDER’S MAP FOR ME!! That too, PERSONALIZED! Can you believe it??

Hogwarts in full gloryy.

My Marauder’s Map

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

“Mischief managed.”

And the best part is that this is the only time I celebrated my birthday in school, because it falls in the vacation. These guys are awesome. They understand every fibre of me. And to think I met them a year ago?! How is that even possible?

Its probably one of those times when you actually take out time and realise how lucky you are to have such beautiful, strong, supportive, intelligent and lovely people in your life. I’m so great ful I found you guys! And please don’t embarrass me at school by quoting this in case any of you are reading this 😛

Good night, lovely readers. You’d not know how much I appreciate you taking out time and reading my blog. Thank you all.

P.S. I’m not hydrophobic. I just hate sticky wet clothes on skin feeling.

A Twinkling Eye.

This poem was composed impromptu, for a Creative Writing Competition that was organized in my school today. The first line of the poem, was the topic. How do you feel about it?

A twinkling eye can mean many things,
A depth in the souls’ many rings.
A sliver of hope when everything’s blue,
In the mystery of life, a clue.
A twinkling eye speaks laughter,
it’s free. It knows no master.
And it can be the recipe for disaster.
Insight of one’s intellect,
Evidence of profound knowledge too,
Points to ideas, choices, beliefs and sects,
Its attracting, magnetic, piercing through.
Its sly, can be true, or diligently sincere,
Also a look of courage displacing fear.
Witty, sarcastic, and smirking sometimes,
Looking both sweet as sugar and sour as lime.
A twinkling eye can be the gate to memories,
Both joyful and melancholy, as you please.
And so, a twinkling eye can mean many things.
Depends on the minds of people what meaning it brings.

“The light of the eyes rejoiceth the heart.” – Bible, Proverb 15:30

Holidays

The summer vacation is here. It basically is a 10 – day – enjoy – 40 days – boredom kind of a vacation. It is truly said, “All work and no play make Jack a dull dog.” However I would like to add, “All play and no work make him even dumber.”

I mean, come on, either the school authority plan to give us so much work that we barely have time to rest or they are, like, absolutely Do – whatever – you – want – to kinds of people. I am usually not very active, and am generally found resting (lolling around and doing nothing). However, this vacation, I seemed to have changed. Of what was before a formality, I keep asking my mom to give me some work, be it to mop the floor or to wash the clothes or to go to the market to fetch something, I am mostly willing to do it (Only if it is not too hot). My mind seems to be empty and all that ever retained seems to be draining away. When not put to use, what do you expect?

“An empty mind is a devil’s workshop”. I have finally understood its meaning. All day long when I am not doing anything and just roaming about the house doing nothing, my mind seems to be formulating plans on different schemes to mess things up. For a person like me, who is usually very non violent, this looks unusual. I can practically hear my mind buzzing around to create ideas to trouble my sister, who is a little short tempered or to cut, tear, mess and unarrange the things around. I also seem to giving away my hobbies like to read books is exchanged by working on the cellphone, playing by watching the telly and talking to family by listenng to songs in a dark, empty closed-door room. Looks as if I am addicted to the telly and the phone, considering the amount of time spent on them as compared to earlier.

Even my practice of bathing early and waking up early too, has been replaced by waking up late and bathing even later, mostly after noon. I feel exhausted just by lying on the bed and doing nothing. I feel all the energy energy stored inside me slowly draining away. All i do is now lay on the bed and listen to songs on the earphone.

I have started to feel sort of restless, wanting to do some work and just hope that these holidays end as soon as possible.