My buddy, Arsha

Arsha (in white) and Aveisha (in red) I can't remember exactly how and when I got to meet Arsha. She's Vidisha's cousin, and also happens to be Ritesh's niece. She's Aveisha's sister, and also knows Arvind. I guess all the roads really were leading to Rome. I think Arsha is one of the few people who's pretty lonely, but doesn't keep complaining about it. Yes, well, she's going out with a cute guy now (too bad, boys, she's already taken, and it looks serious) but I still think most people fail to realise who she really is on the inside.

All of that to say she deserved an important place on my blog.

Original Love

I am young, yet I write with the dry passion of an old man with a wounded heart and a bruised soul. I have rarely seen things from the world, but I have never taken anything for granted - instead, I spent my time analyzing and figuring out the patterns of life.

Life is nothing but an equation of disasters and atrocities.

I remember when I was younger and naive: I seemed to have a never-ending supply of energy that I kept spending to correct what I saw as disturbances in the patterns of this world. During this time, I was also a true romantic. I could love with all my heart and soul, without any fears, without any doubt. But times change, and people change. I gradually stepped backwards into the shadows, with countless knives and daggers piercing my heart.

I do not claim to be wise. I do not claim to be right. However, at times, I wish I could get back my strength to defeat the present and conquer the future.

Almost Racist

Do you know how it feels like to be treated differently from everybody else?

I've been thinking about that lately. I've always been going out with women who never treated me like they used to treat their boyfriends. I know I've always been the sub-standard boyfriend, the backup-plan, the guy you can actually impose any kind of condition upon.

It got real bad today. I was drunk - really drunk - and I said something truly horrible to one of my ex girlfriends, because I had been thinking about what she did to me. The bad thing is that I know exactly - at a millionth of cm square precision - where and when to place that comment that really hurts.

However, I regret now. Why am I so weak?
I wonder.