Love Once Conquered

There is a unique sadness on her face
It’s broken, no one can fix it
She puts on a mask and pretend to not care
Nobody understands the trouble she has been suffixed with

She wears her arrogance as an armour
Why show the world she is hurt?
When she can easily pretend to have no emotions
A cloak of insanity she owns

Once bitten twice shy
She falls in love with her own shades at times
And when asked about the reason of her destruction
She smiles and says its because it pleases her

Love once conquered all she had
A fallen victim she was named
Then the storm came to change her course
A stone hearted person she became and it was all she chose

Nishtha Pandey


Validating Relationships

Yesterday, this guy I have been dating for almost a month now, put up a picture we clicked on the second date as his Whatsapp display picture. Although I thought it was a bad picture and I looked horribly un-edited, I was touched by his gesture. Within 24 hours, the picture has changed and so has my idea of this relationship. Now, he made it evidently clear that he is not the “textbook relationship” person, but then again why am I keeping expectations from him about the perfect relationship?

Amidst the heat wave of Indian summer and Everyday People playing on my phone, I found myself wondering – What is the perfect relationship?

Is it the one where people go all mushy-mushy over each other? Where you can always find them in pairs in any picture, post, tweet, party or hoarding? Or is it that relationship where people don’t really care whether or not you are a couple on social media but actually spend time together?

Have we really become the generation that needs social media and corny affectionate PDA’s to validate our relationships?

I have known people that are always Facebooking their dates and letting people know how much they are in love and in complete utter honesty, I have always dissed them. But that’s not what dauntingly haunts me. What has caught me by surprise, have I become one of those people that needs social media and corny PDA’s to validate my relationship?

When we met, this guy and I, it was one of those perfect first dates, no nervousness about looking perfect, in fact we met after work, so we both were pretty retarded at the end of the day. Yet, it was amazing. We sat on the beach for hours and hours, talking about nothing but everything random. There was cigarettes, the beach and us. That day would go down in the history as the Best First Date Ever. The second date too was a grand gesture. By the third date, I was already head over heels for this guy.

I have not met a man in a while that I went out with for a consistent month. My relationships lasted a day and I adored the freedom I got from it. But with this guy, I am looking at the whole nine yards. The idea haunts me.

Has the idea of a relationship with the perfect guy could be any more validating to my ideas of perfection? I think about it, but I find myself in a confusing place. By now the song has changed to Comes & Goes in Waves by Greg Laswell and I am still over-thinking this whole thing.

What will it take to make me more secure about this relationship? Will it be the polite but grand gestures he made when we met? Or will it be the numerous PDA we would forcibly do because it would make me happy?

What will it really take to validate our relationship?

I really like this guy, but does one really need to have a picture perfect relationship album on their Facebook page to be in love? Or is that just an added advantage?

I guess out of all the men I have been with, I have particular enjoyed the moments that are captured nowhere except for in my memories, but sometimes, it is nice to be flaunted around.

It certainly feels like you are worth it. Until then, we will always have memories and cigarettes.

Whiskey Rains

The rains entered her home without a knock
Droplets of fire in their eyes, drenched in doubt
Piles of cigarettes lay besides her bed
And picture of oceans and flames in eternity being wed
Everyone witnessed her solitude
No one said a word or let out a sigh on this fortitude
It was only whiskey, that was brave enough
To wake up in the middle of the night and make her laugh
She cradled the bottle of whiskey in her lap
Like a bundle of joy looking to be grabbed
The rains, the fire all stood still
As whiskey absorbed her soul and named her ‘his’

– Nishtha Pandey

Acceptance or Denial?

All our lives we have been told to accept things as the way they are given to us, the rules of families, social norms, shortcomings of our loved ones or even ourselves. We have been given a strict set of codes to abide by or die, but when has it become acceptable to live an individual’s life that is just as symmetrical to the other ones in the crowd. Do we even have any individuality left or have we become the part of the crowd that screams of individuality in a sheep herd? Acceptance plays an important role in our lives, we want our families to accept us, even if they are being rebelled against, we want our social circle to accept us, even if we try and defame them as soon as they turn their backs on us. We plead for acceptance from our lovers, when in reality we can hardly ever look up in the mirror and accept ourselves.

Relationships are the most important part of someone’s lives, at the very least they are of mine. Yet, when it comes to loving someone, why do we beg to and fro for the other person to accept our love and reciprocate in the same intensity? Is it because we strategically plan the intensity of love before falling in love with someone one or is it because love can never truly be measured or planned upon. When it comes to love, are we willing to compensate the shortcomings of our partners by filling in by our own or are we choosing to be in denial?

In the world where find a partner is hard enough, are we creating one by turning the blind eye on the wrong ones for the sake of ‘love’? Are we accepting the shortcomings of others or living in denial of our own?

The Battle of Wrongful Rights

I never really understood what the big deal is with women smoking. I know for a fact that it is a major killing factor in the otherwise ‘can be led’ healthier lifestyle. But why do people look down on women smokers like some bad, filthy object that can be easily be bedded but cannot smoke? For over such a long time into my adolescence and working age I have seen so many men and women turn around and give a dirty look to the women who smoke, be it in groups or all alone on the streets.

These women are often signed, sealed and delivered in following categories due to stereotypical thinking:

  • ‘Oh poor girl, she must be going through a bad break up/work crisis/family problem/whatever’ – This category is what I like to call – Fake Pity The Perfectly Sane People.
  • The second is even more adequate and easier for people of a certain age and mentality to fit in the women smokers into i.e. ‘Have Absolutely No Morals Kinda Girls’ and their favorite dialogue – “Deko kya sikhaya hai maa baap ne! Chi” (Look! What their parents have thought them. Eww!)
  • And the third and the most disgusting category a woman smoker can be fitted into is (no drum rolls please!) – “The She’ll Fuck With Anyone Kinda Girl!” People, no matter where I go, no matter how much they or their ambience drips of class will always have one particular thought in mind when they see a girl smoking – “Oh my god! She smokes! She’ll sleep with anyone I tell you!”.

But why am I suddenly addressing this issue on my barely active blog?

Well, the other day I was watching my favorite sitcom ‘Sex and The City’ (and mind you that series is not JUST about sex!) and there it was, the perfectly cute guy dumping the perfect girl over a mere issue of smoking. It made me wonder, is smoking the real deal breaker?

I always thought real attractions accepted the other person however he/she might be. So why is that a man can smoke in bed after a passionate session of love making and enjoy it as ‘Victory Cigarette’ but if the woman does the same she is considered to be obscene? Men often ask women who smoke on regular basis to give it up. Why is it that men cannot do the same and consider the same as an offence if faced with a similar situation by their women?

I was recently asked to tame down my smoking demon just for the day by a guy I really like to which I got really baffled up and the whole conversation turned into an argument. Is it that hard to accept someone who is slaved to a habit by choice? Or is it that I really had a chance at making a connection that could last longer than my cigarette, killing me in other ways but I let go of it?

Maybe my life will to have to walk the path same as Carrie Bradshaw, flushing down the demons in the toilet for good or going back to new ones waiting in my bag right now. The choice is tough.

The Happy Place

When the wind blow past the strands of hair whilst on the merry-go-round
The happy place was asking to be found
When the daylight smeared and the twilight came around
A place of serenity was conquered and crowned
When they said to rationalize free thinking,
Or choose between religious afternoon and a lustful evening
A wandering desire came along

The entrapment grew along the age, the sun and the moon stayed there
Watching the rage
As the memoirs of the happy place disappeared
And the mournful mundane living gathered
It was all barren, until that moment
When the lust for adventure turned prudent
And the journey to defy the vicar began

A long walk under with the crescent moon and a splendid sun
Burned and loathed in jealousy as the adventure turned into fun
Against the rules of sanity and pride
A journey began where these rules were unable to abide
The journey to the happy place it was called
An unchaste heaven and surreal to be mound
A momentary contentment and then the happy place was lost and found

– Nishtha Pandey

Remembrance of Self

This has always been hard, leaving that is. Confessing, living. Over the time, I have learnt to be strong and stagnant to face my fears, people and monotony. But there are times when my passion for writing burns to ashes in front of my eyes and I am so helpless, so numb to make a move to save it. This past year was an unwelcomed change in my ‘not-so-happening’ life. A new job, new people, old habits and older expectations are a really bad combination if I can say so. I am an extremely bad judge of character which is why I would not say anything about the people I interact with. But rather, let me just rant about myself, my problems, my issues – just me.

The state of mind I am in currently, I could easily come across as suicidal. The level of intoxication I do to escape the simplest task that requires any sane interaction or action for that matter is disturbing. Even then, the feeling of being drowned is taking over me completely. They say, happiness is a state of mind, why do we often wander away from that ‘state of mind’ then? These days, nothing seems to be making me happier. Not the company of people around me, not the intoxication I am obliged to take, not even my flaming out love for writing.

Amidst of all this, I stumbled upon some of my previous writings. These were dated to the time when I wasn’t even aware that I could use words to not only defy my existence but also save it. The times where I only used words to prove my superiority over my own silliness. The times where innocence was scattered all around like snow on the Christmas morning. Innocent childhood. I remember the times where innocence was what we craved and got. Today, I couldn’t care less about innocence. Today, it has all become about my needs, my wants, my wishes, my disappointments.

Pretty soon I will be 20 and when I look back to see what have I done all these years, I will be extremely crestfallen.  Yet, here I stand, alive, secluded and intoxicated. Sometimes, it’s easier to find a person to cure than self isn’t it? I question my own self a lot of time, do you remember yourself? I surely don’t.