Monthly Archives: August 2013

Reverse psychology

There is something about the forbidden fruit, which makes us want it more. We don’t want it unless someone tells us that we can’t have it. After someone has told us that we can’t have that thing, the longing just starts to burn deeper.

September 5th is celebrated as the Teacher’s Day in India. This is because Dr. Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan was born on this date. He was the first Vice President, and the second President of India. On this particular day, in most of the schools, seniors imitate the teachers and in the celebration, each and every teacher is felicitated for their hard work and the patience to bear students like us. The best part about this day, is that girls get to wear sarees. I mean, that is probably the only time in my life I was going to wear a saree, apart from my farewell, of course.

But, no. Some dear, dear students decided to go to the principal and ask for the change in attire code. They wanted to wear salwar-kurtis, as most of the girls said that they won’t come to school if saree wasn’t removed. Now, our principal is widely known for her mood swings. She told them that no sarees, no salwar-kurtis, everyone will come in uniform. For the first time 17 years of my school, the trend of wearing sarees on Teacher’s day was about to be broken.

Being A-grade mindless creatures, the students decided that they wanted Sarees back on, otherwise no one would come. They wrote a petition and now expect everyone to sign on that death sentence. I mean, I’m all up for a rebellious act, but not when it comes to pissing off the principal, especially when my Practical Marks of the most important year of my academic life rest in her hands.

What I don’t get is, why would they go into the lion’s den in the first place? Why would they get something removed and then ask for it back? Are they insane? Yes. Are they on a suicidal mission? Hell, yeah. Is there even going to be a celebration this year? Probably not. Not if they start acting like 3rd standard students instead 12th standard students. They are very well aware, that if they take that petition to the principal, she’s going to lose it completely. Then each and every person who’s signed the petition will face a Court Martial.(Not literally, but you get what I mean, right?)

Things are very simple in my head. There is no effect of reverse psychology on me. If I want something, I don’t jeopardise it in the first place. If I do not want something, God himself can’t make me want that. Things are not clear in everyone’s mind. They see a lot of gray. But seriously, why they went to the principal in the first place, to change the attire-code, is completely out of my understanding range.

What was the point? What good did it do to anybody? Why did they have to do it? I seriously wish someone could answer them to me.


Ground Zero

Everything that could be broken, has been broken. There’s nothing left to break. No pain left to deepen, and no space left to fill. Everything that could hurt me has been done. Now, there’s no looking back. There’s only looking forward. There’s no looking down, hoping that the ground swallows me up. There’s just looking at the sky, knowing that one day, I’ll touch it.


I am done feeling like a freaking zombie, and acting like one for that matter. There cannot be any more sadness, and there won’t be. I am seventeen years old! So what if a shrink says that I’m depressed? I’ll prove him wrong. I am not going to be one of those people who feel sorry for themselves every time they look in the mirror. I’m going to keep on moving forward because life is a one-way road. I’m not going to get these moments back. There are no disconnected moments, so if I want to make my future happy, I need to make my today happy as well. If I let these present moments slip through my fingers, then how can I even think of holding my future? If I let myself abuse this gift of life, then I’m not sure I deserve it. I know that I’ve fallen down. But I also know that I gave up. This is one thing no one should ever do. I’m learning it the hard way. If I give up, if I don’t fight for my dreams, then I can’t expect someone else to do that for me. If I give up chasing my dream, then I didn’t deserve it. If there’s one thing I know, it is that I was raised not to give up by my grandfather. He’d be so angry at me right now if he were alive. And boy, I do not wish for that. Today, I have a chance. Today, I have something to get back to. I might not have that tomorrow. So I’m going to keep my head held high and move only forward.


I can’t spend the rest of my life thinking that, ‘Oh, my god. I’ve been diagnosed with depression. What will happen to me now?’ If I would’ve seen someone else do this two months ago, I would’ve kicked them so hard, that they would’ve landed on moon. This is what I’m going to do myself right now. I’m going to kick myself out of this bloody mess. Honestly, what was I thinking? So what if my best friend abandoned me? She obviously didn’t care about me that much. She’s moved on, and so am I going to. I have the rest of my life in front of me. I can’t let the last ten years decide my next sixty. Of course, I can’t erase them, no matter how much I’d like to. All I can do is make peace with them and not let my yesterday affect my tomorrow. 



So, I declare myself as Ground Zero. I’m going to rebuild myself. I’m going to make myself into such an enigmatic person, that people from my past will just burn with the shine radiating off of me. I’m not toxic anymore. I’m not saying I’m suddenly angelic. What I am right now, is a human. A simple human being with no toxicity running in her veins. I’m not sef abhorrent anymore. I love myself. I know that others can do that, too, if they understand me.

I am going to start all over again. I’m not going to be lonely. I’m not going to be sad anymore, either. I’m going to take a fictitious character’s advice and make every day of my life Legen…wait for it…-dary!



Yeah, I know its a little cliche. But it’s true, isn’t it? I am honestly done with sulking. I tried it, I didn’t like it. But I do know that I’m going to more than love being just…awesome!



It’s official. I’m all alone. I tried to make up for the mistakes I’d done, I tried to forgive them for what they did to me. They decided that my mistakes were too grave to be forgiven and forgotten.

I had only one person left. She was my last resort, my last hope, my everything. My toxicity got to her and she untangled herself from me. I can’t blame her. I’m the one at fault here. She made me feel cared for when everyone else decided to follow the path of abandonment. Now, because of no one else than me, I’m alone again.

I thought it’d be easy to be alone until November. Then for three months, I’d do nothing but study and them move to Bangalore for college. I was wrong. There is nothing more of a punishment for a human than being alone. It’s a curse. It’s the darkest thing which can stir the soul of a human. I am alone. I am lonely. I am in hell.


I want that scary demon out of me now. I want to forget all that had happened to me and move on with a fresh start. I want to erase my past and write my story all over again. I can’t get out of the emotional mess that I am in, all alone. I thought that I was strong enough to be alone, but I was just kidding myself. I can’t do that. It was my mistake and arrogance to think that I could be alone in life.

I don’t mean “I’m alone” in a typical teenager kind of way. I’m not that shallow. I mean it when I say that I’m alone. There isn’t a single person on this planet to take care of me right now, when I’m burning with fever. I have no one on which I can rely, on whose shoulder I can cry, with whom I can share my happiness…not a single living soul. I should’ve been okay with that. I should’ve been used to being Unloved by now. But I’m not. 



For the first time in my life, I want to be loved. I want to open my heart out to someone. I want to love, too. I want to have friends, have fun, do all that normal teenager stuff with. I want to be the reason behind someone’s smile. I deliberately want to do all that stuff. The only problem is I don’t know how to. My communication skills suck. I’m not outgoing. I just want someone to accept me as I really am. I have flaws, I have issues, I have demons, I have nightmares, I have all sorts of things that need special attention. I want this one thing right now. I want to be accepted, along with all my flaws, and still be loved. Is that too much to ask?


This post is going to be dark. Its going to take me a lot of courage to type and down and hit ‘Publish.’ There’s a good chance that I’ll just save it in drafts, like I did the others.

I published a post a few days back, telling that I was unlovable, but yet, I could accept the love of my best friend. I published that post, then things got too dark for me. I deleted it two days later.

Here I am, writing this down again, because I’m done being modest. I want to write the truth about my life as it is, without thinking that someone out there is judging me. I write because its the only way I know how to express myself. At this moment, I desperately need someone to talk to, but I’m all alone.

Today, I got too much to handle. Today, my best friend told me that she wanted out. Today, I was diagnosed with depression. I think the timing on her part was a little too bad. She could’ve waited a few weeks to tell me that our friendship had come to an end. But no. She decided to tell me this minutes after I told her about my depression.

Nothing triggered my depression. It was built up over time. I was emotionally abused as a child. My parents never physically abused me, nor was I ever sexually abused. I was emotionally abused. Years of screaming, yelling, throwing things around, waking up to my mother and father fight because he was drunk, that is the root cause of my depression. Not the fact that that I’ve been hurt more than I can count and I’m only in my mid-teens, neither that I can’t ever play Badminton again because I injured my back. But because I had a scarring childhood.


Today, in school, my best friend was angry at me for something I don’t remember doing. She slammed her book on my table hard. That exact moment took me back to when my dad used to throw things around and I used to jump. I jumped this time, too. For that second, I could see my father in her. It scared the living daylights out of me. I texted her in the evening, asking her if she was home. The conversation was meant to go down normal and end by a smiley and a good night. Instead, I told her about my depression. She told me that this was getting too much for her and that now, she wanted out. She told me that she deserved to be happy too and I was doing nothing about her happiness. She told me that I didn’t like any part of her life, her brother, her friends, anything, and that she was getting tired of choosing. She was tired of always having to choose me, when she could’ve chosen something so much better.

I meant it when I said that I’m like an infection. I’m freaking toxic. My darkness radiated off me and penetrated her innocent soul.  She’s not the girl I poured my heart out to anymore. She’s not even the shadow of that person. She knows pretty damn well that I will not be able to take this loss. I just don’t have the emotional strength in me to fight anymore. My tears have dried. I can’t cry even if I want to. I can feel the demon inside of me scratching its way out of my chest. I want to howl-at-the-moon like cry, but my body won’t listen to me anymore. Even my own eyes have deceived me.


I’ve thought of a million ways to hurt myself. I wanted to pick up a razor and dig it deep into my thighs. I wanted to burn a matchstick and then de-flame it on my skin. I wanted to hurt myself in every way humanly possible.


I stopped myself. 

That is because I knew that even if all the blood in my body will drain, the pain won’t suffice. The pain isn’t enough to make me forget. The pain isn’t good enough for anything, and that is why I didn’t harm myself.

It was my fault. The vicious cycle of letting someone in wasn’t going to leave any exceptions. Like all the ones before her, she has decided to leave me wounded, too. It hadn’t been four days since I’d started accepting that I could be loved, too. That I deserved to be happy, too. It had been four freaking days.

Now, everything was back to normal. Me being in a perpetual night, and the person that I could trust giving up on me. This is normal for me. This will always be normal for me. Today, I’m unlovable again. Today, I’m again a cold-hearted bitch. I guess I’ll just always be cold, callous, and unloved.