The truth

new. music makes you think in new ways.. it can lift you up till you're flying above all the people on the ground, flying above the sky. flying in the endless light of the sun.

my sacred time of the day is when i listen to my music. music that makes me feel like im above the rest of the things on earth. music makes me trip. i trance in and out of dreams. vivid images and feelings, a new reality, a new universe.

the truth is, i'm lonely. still lonely. im starting to doubt myself, everything i've done over the last few years, even the time before goa. especially the time before goa. who did i grow up into? its a scary thought, and i dont like to debate with myself because im scared i'll find that i prefer one side more than the other.

what am i doing. will i pass this year? wish you were here...

but you're gone, forever. gone forever. and i cant forget how we used to be, and what we could have been. no, im not in love with you. im in love with perfection and i guess i thought you had it in you to be perfect for me. and maybe you were. maybe you are. maybe you'll always be. but thats over now. gone. doesn't exist.

things are different. i cant be what i wanted to be around you. even though i wish i could do that. i wish i could talk to you honestly and tell you exactly what you mean to me. tell you what i think im my head when im alone, when im listening to my music, lost in fantasy? its all the wrong kind of things, impossible things, immoral things.

now i cant believe you're gone and all i can do is watch you as you grow more and more distant as days pass. someday, it'll seem like all of this never existed, that it was all just a wonderful midsummer night's dream. a powerful dream that left me addicted to it.

i drank from your cup of dreams, drank in the look in your eyes, when you looked at me like all that matters was this one moment. me standing there looking into your eyes. im afraid to say your name now. afraid of what confessions my voice will make when i say it.

what would be the point anyway? it would serve no purpose to tell you. it would just make us both feel bad, for we both know the truth for what it is. and i miss you, but you'll never know. and you can bring me to my knees, tonight.

And you can bring me to my knees...Again

All the times when I could beg you please....In vain

All the times when I felt insecure....For you

And I leave my burdens at the door

i've lost you, and i'll have to deal with it alone. standing on the roof, screaming at the stars. thats what i'll do. burning photographs and memories. you meant more to me than i should have let you. its my price to pay.

come back to me. in another world, a different universe. i'd like to believe that you're mine, forever.

Salsa class:

so much fun

the second class i've taken here in manipal, organised by strictly ballroom.

dancing makes me happy. lalalala. its like ice cream for my soul.

bunny, if you're here, say hi :)

Dandy, or the Price of Love

THE PRICE OF LOVE

Dandy came into our house at my insistence. I threw tantrums: locked myself into the bathroom, denied myself food and water, and threw crying fits. What could my parents do?

So one day, in order to put an end to all the unpleasant screaming and crying, my father took us all out and we came home with Dandy. There was nothing much he could have done anyway… He was getting sick of me stealing his newspaper early in the morning and taking his favorite pages out before innocently putting it back where I found it. Little did he know that Dandy would do the same thing for 6 months, albeit less innocently.

Dandy was a tiny black and white ball of fur, with the chocolatey brown eyes that make you feel like everything’s right in the world when you look into them. He had long ears that flopped around, and a wet, friendly pink tongue. When he bent his head into his bowl of milk, his ears found their way into it before his mouth did, a fact that puzzled him greatly.

Dandy won my father’s heart quickly. He would wait by the door when it was time for papa to come home, and in the mornings he’d beg to be allowed to accompany him on his daily morning jog. Dandy’s dogged doggy-devotion was soon reciprocated by papa, who began bringing home biscuits in his pockets for Dandy to find.

He was a smart dog, he knew exactly how to get what he wanted out of anyone in the family. He’d perfected the art of begging, he’d watch you with rapt attention if you were eating something, and whine pitifully until you felt sorry for him and dropped your sandwich on the floor for him.

Dandy was a traveling dog. A tourist in his own right. Wherever we went, he had to smell everything, examine every hole in the ground, and look out of every window in the building before he gave us his approval of the place. We went everywhere together, and if we ever got lost while walking in an unfamiliar city, Dandy would always be able to lead us back to the car, if not back to the hotel room.

Dandy made himself comfortable within our family. My mom spoiled him more than she ever spoiled me. When I left for college, she showered even more attention on him. She was the only one who was allowed to lift him up. If anyone else tried, he’d get agitated and jump off, but when my mom did it, he turned into this docile little angelic puppy.

The death of a pet is tough to deal with. When Dandy died, I couldn’t believe that he was gone. After a few days of disbelief, sadness overcame me. When I look at his photographs, I can still imagine him alive, breathing. Dandy gave us the sort of pure unconditional love that only animals are capable of. His absence left our family incomplete, empty.

Now, there’s no friendly tail wagging bundle of energy waiting for us when we get home. No whining under the table during dinner. There’s no fluffy warm thing to cuddle in bed when its cold. No disconcerting mornings in which a wet tongue on your face serves as an alarm function. No one to talk to in the dark about my secret fears and fantasies. No one staying up with me till the wee hours while I watch mindless TV or study for an upcoming test.

It’s a strange sort of emptiness, this sudden lack of affection. But the sadness of losing a loved pet is nothing compared to the sheer bulk of affection they shower on you while they’re alive.
I have heard people say that losing a pet is a painful experience, and that there’s no point even keeping one because you know from the moment you get one that its life span is finite. You know that sooner or later you’re going to have to deal with death.

But that is the price of love.