Que sera sera..

hair in air

Sometimes I feel I am way too old to be whining about friends. The moment I start my brain back-flips as the same thoughts hit me and it feels so tiring to go round and round the same circle. I literally feel a bolus of vomit stuck in my gut and one in my head. Just wanting..out

Same exact people, acting in the same juvenile fashion. If I stay with them, I feel nauseated. If they ignore me, I feel angry and left out; when I am with them, I simply cannot wait to get away. And the cycle goes on and on until my brain starts to hurt and I give up. And I crash. And then something happens, and I am back on the same road.

And as far as I remember, this is exactly how things have been with every friend I have ever been with. I like them, then I hate them, then I like them. Sometimes all of their faces blend together when I look back. My personality brings out the exact same pattern in their behaviour. They are always there but they can’t never really get to know me. And why the hell would they try? Anne stuck around, she is like..my soul sister. But I went through hell to get to a point where her presence or absence doesn’t hurt me. She stays, I am happy (so happy), she leaves, I barely look. It’s comfortable between us. Because, comfortable distance always works for me. And it also has to do with the fact that she has the most tolerable and amazing personality. Ever heard, nay dreamed, of that breathtaking beauty, those cool brilliant brains and that gentle understanding soul in one person? Well that’s her.

My only concern is the strangulating effect of these interactions. I don’t want to be crippled by my own emotions. I don’t want my decisions to be dictated by how I feel about a particular matter. I call these my *out-of-body experiences*, when I look at a person as a whole. Not how they affect me, but how they actually are.

It’s a pretty nice feeling, actually. But to get to a point where one day their existence will have no affect on me in entire sense of the word, I have yet a very, very long and tortuous path to walk.

Till then. Que sera sera..


Que sera sera (what will be, will be)

It’s No Treat Being In My Head

I bunked college today to come back early because I couldn’t take a minute more of the pointless droll my Professor was trying to sell (offense intended). Stopped at the bakery to get bread for my friend, had a tiff with a cab driver, came back and stuffed myself with food and regretted it the moment I took the last bite and felt as if I would explode. Bad choice, Haib.

(I can hear my stomach hating me)

So. Self Indulgence time

My research proposal is STUCK. And that adds up to a clutter in my head and it keeps bugging me all the time. All the time. Like a fork jammed in my head. All these things felt so good a month ago, when I was jumping up and down for getting in the Electives Program (Psychology) at a very respected Institute and when my research synopsis was formed and now they won’t return my email about..something, time is moving on like hell and the moment I shut Goljan Pathology and ask myself a question I rush to the window to throw myself off it. And then there was this Tobacco Presentation I wanted to make but lost all heart for it. I can never force myself to do anything. It comes out wrong and I am control freak. Jack of all trades, Master of none is kind of not what I am going for =/. I am just gonna focus on the important things and try to keep the mess in my head to the minimum.

Honestly speaking…I don’t really mind. I like having challenges to face. Problems to tackle. It’s better than sitting in that lecture hall of mine, trying hard to keep my eyes open, listening to the History of Polio Vaccine and why IPV is different from OPV…I don’t mind history or polio..I just can’t fathom the tone, that boring, monotonous tone that sucks the living soul out of me.. (offense intended)

With that being said, I am gonna go lie flat on the floor and read Dostoevsky. Then I am gonna fall asleep over there and wake up with a very stiff back but well…with those Russian dudes, I really don’t mind =D I just hope no bug crawls into my ear and eats its way to my brain. O_O

Btw..It has been four years with this blog. Happy Anniversary to me =)

Au revoir ! 


What’s your Room No. ?

row of windows

Why is it that moving crowds make me feel so horribly crippled and so devastatingly stranded? Stay there for a minute or two and see them all moving on, while you are waiting for that one thing. Standing, invisible and unseen amongst everyone you know. Low self-esteem? Nah, sometimes it’s just a simple observation

So I do what I went there for, inside the small room as my name is called and mumble my room number. It’s the Allotment Day. We get new rooms as the final year of our college leaves and we have a crack at better rooms. I mumble the same number I did last year. A room full of sunshine, whenever sun comes . A room alight with the moon, whenever moon returns (la di da). A room so perfect in its imperfections that the very notion of changing it made me close my eyes and send out a little prayer, if you’re up there, Oh God, of all the things I have lost, don’t take this away from me.

As I came out, I glanced around, bade a friend or two farewell and climbed up those stairs again. I got what I wanted, then why does my heart sting so much? This happens every year this day. Friends fight, people turn away, girls jump each others throat, blah blah blah..there is so much hostility in the air that I barely recognize anything and anyone. And why do I feel sad at the fact that my ‘friend’ moved away. This happens every year ! Why does it have to sting every time? God ! I want to look myself in the mirror and scream.. GROW UP ALREADY

Haha, well, yea, feelings come and feelings go. Mine left a few seconds ago. We waste our life chasing the wrong people and while I say this I know I am still barking up the wrong tree. And it is also funny when I say that because I have never really chased anyone. One or two people maybe. I guess we have blown up images of ourselves in our head. Why ask people to change a part of themselves for a part of you? Why not see them as they are, not how they affect you? It takes a bigger man to accept that. And that bigger man I try and fail to be, every single day

I have hated clichés. And my hatred for them grows by the minute. I do not believe in all those morals and rituals our brain washed society preaches and has been doing to death..but it gets so hard sometimes, to separate yourself from it. I hate when hypocrisy stirs in me as I keep my mouth shut. Sometimes I wanna blurt it all out but by the time words get to my mouth..I realize…I just don’t care. Or cowardice gets the best of me. Or simple disgust does.

I don’t wanna become that person. I don’t wanna be a sociopath, I don’t wanna live with so much hostility inside that the insides turn black while the extremities go numb. I have been numb. It was horrible. Who wants to be trod upon and be hurt? No one. But I’d rather be hurt than be a corpse who sees nothing, feels nothing and leaves a stench everywhere.

La di da

la di da

30th November (IV) belated


I got up with sun stinging my eyes, someone banging at some door and my bladder threatening to burst. I woke up gruntled and went out. Took me a whole minute to recognize the fact that all my friends had gone to brunch and it was a whopping 12 26 pm

So by this time, the cafe downstairs would be closed for the breakfast crowd, I was out of cereal and all I had were three bananas. Well, that wasn’t so bad. I plugged in my wifi, brushed my teeth and washed my face, which I then remembered, I hadn’t washed for two days. Stuffed the bananas in my mouth. Cleaned my room, did my dishes..and here I am, sitting in my bed with sun shining so pretty, warming up the cold in my fingers

Another year of Medicine gone. I hope I make it through Pharma. Right now there is an eerie silence in my corridor and I am trying to arrange my thoughts. I am going to go outside, chose a corner and finish the book I am reading. It was my birthday last week and I didn’t even have the time to sit somewhere and mope about it. It’s the perfect day today. Everyone is their own worlds. The ones they prefer, the ones where I never truly am gonna fit it. Sometimes we try hard, trying to belong to a shiny, outwardly cheery happy place but the fact remains some of us are just not like that.

Years will go by, everything will change but the very core of our very being drags us back to what we became, or chose to become, long long while ago.

So let it be today =)

birthday cupcake

Back with a Bubble



I am sitting in my room again, my heart all warm and my muscles all sore. Yes it was a bad day for travelling, I went through shit today. All that time in the bus, off to college again, I had one thought roaming around in my head. Will I fit in again? Will people acknowledge me as I walk by? Had anyone, someone, missed me? These sound pathetic but then truth isn’t always heroic and nice. I felt feverish. My heart pounded thickly in my chest. Will I be okay? I don’t feel the same. I am not the same. I don’t know

But now as I rest my back against the window on my thick pillow..I feel a tiny bubble of happiness cushioning my heart. I love Bubbly. She is one of the few people who have touched my soul with their own warmth. These are the people I will do anything for. These are the people I will miss. These are the people who have the ability to wound me.

I went to her room, she got up and hugged me, and I said what I wanted to hear the most, Hey, I missed you, and I felt her hold tighten that millisecond. That millisecond I felt all the beautiful memories in my mind hitting me one by one. God.. I was really in need of a hug. And then we talked. Non stop. For two hours. College, home, politics, siblings, commercials, sports… everything. And now as I sit in my room I wish I could just preserve it all somewhere because oh, this time is gonna pass and some shit will happen to me. You see, that history book on my shelf..is always repeating itself

I also went to meet my favourite best friends.. Kate and Sidney. I like them a lot. But I fear to be a third wheel, the outsider I always am. They always laugh at my jokes and are always there when I need them. They are, without a doubt. my favourite people.

These are just ramblings, folks. My happiness ain’t complete until I spread it around. It’s like a little bird caught in my heart, it was meant to fly =)

So sleep thight. I’ll see you on the other side =P

woman in calm water

I live in a goofy corridor

And believe me when I say it

I do live in a really goofy and creepy corridor

a) There’s a vampire I do mean it. My corridor is usually occupied by senior students with creepy hairstyles. SO, one day I was on my way to wash my dishes when I by accident gazed into a room. The door was open and this girl was sitting on her bed. Her hair were pitch black and dishevelled and I always seen her use heavy eye make up. Now this time thick black liner was all around her sunken eyes and she was sitting in such a strange way with her friend. As I passed she looked at me and I was like RUN HAIBAR, for the sake of passing in the blood viva to the most daunting Professor, RUN.

I am exaggerating yes but she did give me the creeps. Hell every time now I watch her passing I look at her back and say in my head, aaj kitno ka kaam tamam kia he? (how many didja wipe off today?)

b)She’s in luurrvvv: Oh boy, people in love have really goofy smiles stuck to their faces. I see this girl always walking down our corridor smiling in such a GOOOOOFY manner that sometimes I resist the urge to just punch that show-piece of a teeth rack out of her. She’s ALWAYS talking on the phone. I mean..like.. ALWAYS.

Get a life..

c)Gold mines need be guarded: Some people have lots of expensive stuff in their room and that is reflected in the quality if the locks on the door or just the fact that this person really seals her door every time she even goes to the bathroom. I mean I see her carrying this huge bunch of keys every time I bump into her making noodles. What’s she.. an undercover medieval dungeon master…?

Moses smell the roses…

d)You raise me up: There’s this person, right infront of our room, who bangs the door with such a ferocity that it can raise the dead. I have woken up in the middle of the night due to Her Majesty with Ogre hands who hates her door and has an urge to slam doors just when my blasted eyes close..

For the love of Pete..


All for now..I do have packs of tales about my new hostel and people I live with, Ogres or Vampires or Dungeon Masters… I do love this Wonderland =)

Can’t wait for my friend Bubbly to be back from home.. Hate laughing without her =)


Top of the roof to ya

I got up early. Checked my cellphone, grabbed a shawl by my bed and wrapped it around me. I had left the window open as I dozed off late last night and my face was very cold. I rubbed it with my hands, slipped on my slippers and quietly went out. Just needed some fresh air

I was hoping that the doors to the roof of my building weren’t locked because I seriously needed to see some clear sky. And viola they weren’t. I went on and sat on cold concrete. This is my secret place. It’s close to heart

I used to take my journal with me when I went to my secret spot at home, top stairs facing a locked door and the place had a damp smell I love. This place also smells something like that. It is the concrete or cement I guess. But now I just come when I want, without a paper or a pen. Some feelings are too deep and personal to be recorded and left on for someone to read after you die. That’s why I write a journal. I wanna leave a solid mark for someone I truly love. But these emotions are too simple and too fragile for anyone’s eyes. I keep them to myself.

So, I sat. Inhaling the wind of the busy city while it was clean, before the city woke up. I was happy. Those little bubbles of happiness were forming in my heart and popping at the very same time. Words were slowly buzzing at the back of my mind. It wasn’t an uneasy feeling. It felt good.

Half an hour I sat. Thinking of all sorts of people and all sorts of memories. Pain makes me who I am.. I need it to feel myself or I’ll drift far far away. But all it takes is one word to make me happy, one gust of wind to forget all the sorrows and one pure gesture to break in all those walls.

I could see the roads and the shops and the huge institution past my building as I sat..with a content feeling nervously nudging into my heart. Happiness? Ahan. Slightly marred, yes. It has been a while I was just so truly happy. But it’s okay. Raw happiness seems unreal, you know. Besides we human can never be really happy. We will always whine for one thing or the other. Look at me. Rolling eyes

So after the traffic started to build up and the horns started blowing and the slight tinge of smoke filled the air as the sun came out to glare at me pointedly, I got up and slowly started to walk down the stairs. One of those days and times when I am torn between so many emotions. A large part of me is happy but that small afraid region just holds me back. So I just went back into my room before my roommates found out and closed the windows next to my bed. Closed my eyes and drifted again.

Boy do I stink at writing now



Land ho !

Well. I hate when I don’t write something I always wanted to write and then the moment passes and everything is lost. Sometimes delay adds or concludes the story on my mind so well.. but sometimes, like this time, it just ends up making me furious..

I wanted to write about how life was at my old hostel, like a full day overview.. just like falling for a convention.. I get up I do this and that… but before I could do so.. we shifted to this utterly brand new, raw and so simply crude hostel….

Yes. I did the packing yesterday…in like… 15 minutes? Gathering up 12 million books ain’t a human job, siree! Then having the new room cleaned. And strangely hurt at the fact that the friend you probably loved the most after your best friend.. snuck you from behind and changed colours at the mere matter of room allotments. It’s ^&(%$&$# of me to mention it here but sorry dude, I am not a saint. And you just showed me that you aren’t near one either =D

Anyways, we all helped each other bring stuff into our rooms. One friend holding bag of the other and all that. People marching up and down and up and down. A friend did all the cleaning of my cupboard (and till I breathe, I will never forget that) and so on and so forth

I slept very late. Still each part of my body hurts. My feet are raw red. (or is it red raw?) It’s a single room finally. But no more ten minutes walk for breakfast and to the bus stop. Everything is outside the gate. I will miss it, the hell I would. But it’s time we move on, savy?

It’s a cute room.. I even smuggled a caretaker uncle’s lawn chair =D oh I am also cute I don’t bite =P He won’t say a thing. I have to renovate and have the whole room painted again and fix a window, buy rugs and all. Even have some sockets set up

But six days are left and by the grace of Allah I go home after that. Mom will come with me after a good long period of summer vacations and help me do my room. But oh I will take a trip to the store myself too, ey =D

I don’t know what did I just write. Literally. Happens after every post. I better run and poke a few bodies in the hall. Boy, I have an exam coming up before I go home.


Realization. Realization

There is a world to talk about. There are emotions and words cropped in me. But I go my way as always, mosaic and uncertain. Balderdash. All balderdash

I have so truly recognized the two halves in me that make a whole I am grateful and fortunate to be. There is a deep and pathetically emotional part that can pull me and slam me to the walls of my own existence any time it wants. And there is that fairly practical part, that can make me suffer through anything without any single thought bringing me down. But these halves are of a same whole and live so. Live together. Live in harmony and such delicate balance that I myself am astonished. Amazed. Gratified

Why am I writing this? My heart is heavy. Yes. Because I am wishing so truly and harshly that I should’ve covered my tracks. Lord I could’ve covered my tracks. The bad spells don’t leave me. They follow every world I tend to inhabit. Tend to live in. And fill me with the hatred and venom I clean myself of every night. I wish I would’ve vanished and never would’ve come back. Even looked this way. Maybe then I would’ve been alone and happy in the little world of mine. My curse will flow. And Lord I try so hard to keep myself from being the very person I left behind. What went. died then and there. But the dead have ghosts about them and they won’t leave until I die myself

But it aint that easy. The soul and body and the heart I posses are far too strong than I ever anticipated. Few nights ago I was sipping tea and walking in my hostel lane thinking that there are people in great conditions, people studying in KE (The best med college here and perhaps in the world) the great professors who have gone through so much before us and might still be in some dilemma but can they ever have the perceptions I have? I look at them, showing us slides of upper and lower limbs. I see them teaching me blood and brain. They know too much. But do they know what I have known, the way I squeeze a girl because she misses her Dad and Mom, telling her it’s ok… it’s ok. No. The people in KE, people in my college. No, they cannot see the world from my eyes. I don’t want them to. They will never. They can’t

I remember people telling me what love is. I remember people loving me. I remember them saying all those words I dared never believe. They sting me now because the repetition of those words once made me believe that life is real. I was lucky. My love was paid back… Lies. Such brutal lies. But that’s gone. I have cut the final strings. But they have made homes in the very territory that brought me back to life, There still was a last hope that somewhere deep my silence must have sufficed. It dint. And I no longer care

I only understand care and love when the pain… it penetrates. If it doesn’t – I move on. It still does…. I realized that there are consequences of losing someone. Either you never cared. Either you never realized. Either you thought someone won’t ever leave. (so on and so forth)

Lord it sounds dramatic

p.s College is awesome. Hostel stinks but It’s ok, I like being alone. And I am alone in the sense that is most fashionable and highly recommended.

Alone in a crowd

The one laughing at my jokes =D