Jack and Jill

Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water,
Jack fell down and broke his crown and Jill came tumbling after!

It’s the song my mother sings to me every morning. I don’t like it much; it gave me an eerie feeling. I used to joke that she needs to update her song list. She just smiled and replied “it’s a special song; it reminds me of my greatest victory.”

Grandmother has been living with us for the past few weeks, I asked her about mother’s obsession with the rhyme, it seemed to distress grandma, and she said she wasn’t sure, mother had been singing it since she was a child.

A few days later I was watching a movie based on the tragic separation of twins- a brother and sister, the beginning was quite happy but I saw my grandma’s eyes widen at the screen and leave quietly. I followed her out and asked her about what had happened. She looked at me and seemed to make up her mind about something, “I’m assuming your mother has never told you about your Uncle Sam?” I shook my head in surprise. “He is, or rather he was your mother’s twin, he passed away in an accident when they were just twelve years old” I wanted to know everything about him and she also must have wanted to talk about him because for the next one hour she spoke about her beloved lost son. He and my mother had been very close; she was very protective of him. He was at his happiest at the time, he was going to boarding school, his life was just beginning but then the accident happened. I couldn’t get Grandma to talk about his death; I guess it was too painful.

I couldn’t help but wonder why mother had never told me about him. I finally asked her one night, she looked shaken; she simply got up and walked off. I think I heard her have an argument with Grandma later that night. I was hurt. What about this did she feel she needed to keep a secret from me? Mother and I were always close but after father’s death five years ago she has become my best friend. She was my greatest confidante so why did I suddenly feel like she was hiding things from me?

I am leaving for University in a few days; I think this is why grandma has come to live with us. I’m so grateful to her. I used to worry about how mother would get by without me. She is so protective of me, she worries all day long, and I don’t think she’s very comfortable with the idea of me leaving. I know grandma will help mother adjust to our new situation. Last night mother and I started bridging all these gaps that had appeared in our relationship. We went to our favourite Mexican restaurant and over quesadillas and nachos mother finally opened up to me about everything. She was scared I was leaving but she had accepted it. She told me that I will never ever leave her heart, just like Uncle Sam never has.  He used to love to hear her sing, just like me! She sings for him every day, maybe she would sing for me too! I couldn’t help but thinking that my mother is the best!

Tomorrow my life beings anew, University, new classes and friends I can barely contain my excitement. Grandma has gone to my aunt’s house and tonight, one last time, I’m alone with mother. She’s singing “Jack and Jill…” again.
“Mama, what is this victory you always talk about?”

“Oh! I sing this song for your Uncle Sam”
She has been talking more and more about him these days, maybe she is finally being able to think of him with some happiness.
“Was the victory you won…something over Uncle Sam?”
“Yes it was, and now he can never leave my side and this song has everything to do with it!”
I’m getting excited “What song will you sing for me when I go away?”
“Ring around the roses, pocketful of poses, ashes ashes we all fall down, Baby you loved playing to this rhyme when you were young. You will always be a baby for me. I will never let you leave me, my thoughts I mean”.
I beam at her; no one will love me like my mother does.
“Come Baby, put your head in my lap, and let me put you to sleep, one last time.”
I go gladly, and as she fusses over me and tucks me in, I can’t help but stare at her. I remember dad’s words- her heart is as big as her. He loved teasing her about her big frame. I’ve always thought she loves with all her heart. I can feel her love tonight!
She’s singing “Ring around the roses” to me, I’m drifting to sleep, I don’t even realise when her hands creep onto my neck and start pressing too hard. I struggle. My eyes are imploring her to stop. “Baby I can’t let you leave me. You will be at peace after this; just like your Uncle Sam was, after I pushed him down the hill. We would not have been able to bear being apart, this way he never had to go to that horrid boarding school, don’t you see? Even you needn't go to college. You can stay with mama forever”.

By Radha Agarwal

You're alone

You’re going to be alone forever. There is nobody in the world – hear me out- nobody who will be able to understand you completely,nobody who will see eye to eye with you on all matters.

We all have that one favourite book,song,movie,painting. Something that strikes a chord within us. Since I’m a book person,I’ll relate it to books. Think of your favourite book. You know those special lines, the one which make your heart feel complete,the ones you relate to so well that you want to show someone. You get that nagging in your head. Somebody NEEDS to know how you feel and how well its been put across here!

Nobody will understand. Even if you do manage to get someone to read it, all you’re going to get in return is a blank look or a quizzical look asking “so?” or at best a hollow “wow that’s nice”

You’ll want to scream at them, cry out “why hasn’t this impacted you profoundly? Why such an underreaction? This what I’ve just shown you holds one of the keys to my existence. It deserves more from you.”

But you can’t make them feel something they just….don’t.

You’re alone.

Nobody is going to know all about you- every little lane of life you’ve walked through,every thought or feeling you have about people, why certain things make you react a certain way, why you find some people so hard to trust. Nobody is going to know the inside workings of your mind-why you obsess over a drink just because it reminds you of a certain boy, what every reference or personal joke means actually, why you want to appear a certain way in front of some people, what demons have pursued you all your life, why are you pushing everyone away, why do you suddenly need to get away from everything?

You’re alone

There will never be one person who’ll walk in with the solution. Even if it feels like there is, you’ll discover soon enough that you’ve been kidding yourself. Nobody will have a mind that mirrors yours. Nobody will come in magically as the “soulmate” we all aspire to find. Someone perfectly like that does not exist. You have GOT to stop believing in the fairytale that you’re going to find somebody with the answers to every question you have,the same excited smile and spark in eyes you have when something touches you, the urge to navigate the inner reaches of your mind and stay despite everything they find. To quote Mean Girls “Stop trying to make it happen. Its not going to happen”

You’re alone.

The faster you accept it and make peace with it, the easier it will be to cope. It will stop you from dying a little every time you’re misunderstood. Trust me, you’ll have saved yourself a lot of disappointment.

Peace

By Nirmitee Mehta

Being a toughie

“I’m tough” she told him. “Why don’t you believe me?” and was answered by a horrid patronizing laugh which translated into-“A little girly midget like you? Tough? Dafuq are you saying?”

Whenever any of us hears the word tough, we automatically imagine somebody tall with a muscular build. Someone with a no nonsense look on their face and a steely glint in their eyes, ready to set anyone who dares to mess with them in their place. Someone with a deep voice, wearing ripped jeans or leather. Maybe a couple of tattoos and piercings added for good measure. Stereotypical, isn’t it? Don’t you think being tough isn’t all of that? It is a lot more than just being confined to that definition.

It is smiling, being chirpy and not showing any sign of distress despite having had a harrowing day where everything went wrong.

It is getting that steely edge in your voice and demeanor when you are firm in the fact that you won’t take nonsense from anyone or let them manipulate you.

It is taking time to be by yourself so you do not go crazy and lose control of your emotions, hurting people in the process

It is not letting bullies or baseless rumors get to you but sticking around with your head held up high, showing no sign of worry to the world. It is confronting every obstacle in your way head on and not shying away.

It is about conforming to only your ideals about what’s right and not doing something just because the people around you are.

It is about saying no, and saying it as many times as it takes until people finally get your point.

It is about going through with the responsibilities assigned to you without any intention of skiving off just because you can.
It is pouring your soul out into your art and then keeping it on display even when it might be invaded by negativity.

It is marching up to someone and saying, “Can we talk?” after a big fight because you don’t want awkwardness to remain there any longer.

It is being silly and not being afraid to show it.

It is about knowing in your mind that somebody is worth it, worth getting close to despite being warned against it.

It is being so fiercely loyal that you cannot stand to hear a word against your friends, even by other friends.

It is not letting your fears get ahead of you- Going into the kitchen even when you get a cut or burn whenever you do and making yourself like it; thrusting yourself forward in class discussions and projects because you’ve never been there and now you feel an obligation to do in order to evolve as a person and not paying heed to the teacher’s pet reputation you earn along with it.

And most importantly, it is never losing your essence, your soul.

Here’s to being a tough cookie.

By Nirmitee Mehta

What it takes

She revisited that place tonight. Its been months since she was last there, but it feels like she's never left at all because she instantly feels safe and at home there. And then again it could have been years because she's changed so much and so has her life, its hard to remember the person she used to be in minute detail. The hopes, dreams and wishes dissipated with time. It was here that she had said farewell to the fancies of the young her before she stepped onto the threshold of adulthood. Back then she'd been craving something real in life. Living it in her mind in theory was something she'd had enough of. Her heart craved something that would turn the beautiful candy floss that her thoughts were made up of into something more than an illusion-give a more believable base to them.
Today she wishes she'd never looked beyond what she had then. Dissatisfied though she was, she'd been happy in her soul. She still believed in believing, in love, in happy endings, in the fluttering of hearts, of your heart feeling bigger than yourself, in having true feelings towards someone. It was these beliefs that had been her driving force-the sparkle in her eyes, beauty in her life, blush in her cheeks, dance of her limbs.
Right now, right here, that illusion and that she is shattering-it has been for quite some time now, like a glass wall hit by a car in a hurry. So it was with her, she'd been in too much of a hurry for the experiences that she settled for less and in turn got heavily disillusioned.
Every single time that she came here in the almost forgotten age, she'd write letters addressed to nobody in particular, each weaving a tale of her world, incorporating every whim, fantasy, dream, hope, belief. Its to find them that she's returned today, clinging to the last strand of hope which tells her that on reading those letters, some semblance of the lost her will be rediscovered. She scrambles over to the spot next to the willow tree where she'd kept them imprisoned, hidden from the world. Her hands start digging the soil, getting dirt underneath her carefully tended nails, which she does not pay heed to. Its the least of her worries now. One hand pushes back the long hair streaming into her face as the other, clenched in a fist against her heart tries to control its thud as she desperately wishes for the wooden casket enclosing them to remain. She feels a flash of joy as her hand hits wood and the familiar dark brown box with the tiny butterfly carvings appears before her. Her anticipation grows as she opens it and sees the small pile of colored folded sheets of paper. But as she picks one up, this changes into a feeling of dread. Her throat suddenly goes dry and her eyes well up with tears which without notice give way, blurring the words on paper. She can't bear it-her former happiness and optimism might make her feel more alone and lost than ever. What will she do if the largest piece of herself outside her body fails to have the desired impact and instead appears shallow to her? How much will that break her? Will there be anything at all be left after that? No. She can't make herself take this great a risk.
She now stands up, still holding the letters, dusts soil off her knees and skirt and walks into the water until she is calf deep in seawater and then holds them out in her hands till the wind blows them away, depositing them onto the surface of water where they float. Now her dreams are free to take whichever form they want. Now they are unencumbered. All of herself will come back to her when it wants to-when she is ready for it. Though this is not what she'd come here for today, she is more relieved and at peace than she's been for a long time.

By Nirmitee Mehta

Shadows at dusk

A lonely soul with a smiling face, she makes her way through the familiar ways and courtyards which at dusk seem to have gotten a melancholy personality of their own which she embraces, needing at this point of time just that. She appears completely absorbed, lost in a world of her own making, oblivious to the world around, unhearing of words that the music in her ears block out. She seems comfortable alone-not needing, not wanting anyone else. Her gait is non-purposeful, moving at its own pace and her eyes unseeing of anything but the dreams and moments that only they do.

They search the shadows for a like pair belonging to another soul as lonely as hers. Spilling your heart out to another person in the shadows has a fanciful ring attached to it that she with her romantic notions can’t get too much of. Just a little ahead she spots a familiar figure. Alas! Not one she is particularly excited about running into on a night like this. An irksome admirer, whose yearning glances she despite pretending to be blind to, hasn’t missed. She sidetracks him with a couple of niceties and lest he accompany her, hurries on.

Maybe…..just maybe she’ll encounter that person who has filled her thoughts for the past few weeks and that moment will break away the intriguing shell to reveal the person she is so keen to know. Maybe, just looking for a kindred spirit, any kindred spirit is her reason for walking alone and not thinking as she believes.

What she seeks now is comfort, the kind one gets from having someone with you to share just whatever uneasiness you have, that even a mere acquaintance becomes special to you because you’ve given a part of yourself to keep safe and that is what will join you together notwithstanding time and distance. This tie will bring a smile to your face when you think of that person.

She now finds herself nearing the corner she has claimed as her own- a quiet landing off the main street looking over the river. A place with a calming view and sound of water that helps her think and organize her thoughts. The words of the heroine in one of her favorite books come to mind- This is her Smultronställe. It means wild strawberry place in Swedish. Only it isn’t literally that. It is any place that is absolutely private and your own. A place like this is special, it’s the most special place there is. A place where life is….an epiphany. You can bring other people here. But never ever somebody you don’t love.

In her mind’s eye, she now sees an acquaintance strolling down the street. Spotting her lone figure, he slows down before casually standing before her, asking what she’s doing sitting by herself. And as she holds her breath, the moment she’s wanted emerges behind her eyes. And as she waits for it to unfold before her in life itself, she takes her notebook out of her bag, turns to a blank page and begins writing.

By Nirmitee Mehta

Emerging from dark chasms

“Do you know the last time I felt joy? Chuck had brought me into his darkness for so long, I've forgotten what that felt like”

“You may not be aware of it but it’s not all light and bright in here. There are some places devoid of even a hint of sparkle”

- Blair Waldorf (Gossip Girl)

Her darkness came from the people around her. She left her old life and came here- came here for more. She came happy and happy she believed she would be for the time she was here.

She didn’t think it to be any fault of hers. Why the people around her had suddenly started behaving differently. All that she could think of was her having gotten close to a single person. For centuries, those a little separate from the others, those not a part of the herd have been viewed with suspicion.

She however did not do anything that would warrant such behavior. To all of them she was nothing but polite, cordial, warm, if a little distant, something that came from her lifelong insecurity when faced with a group of people. The rest of them started by inching away from them and then they were shunned from the group. She can’t remember exactly when the hate started. She’d never seen anything like it earlier. A sunshine protected soul always, never before had such behavior assailed her. The hate comments reverberating in the air all around her were hard enough to take. In the wake of this she drew the only person she was close to, closer still, making in haste and at a bad moment, a choice she would regret, not only by going into something she wasn’t ready for, but also making way for more hate coming her way along with a lot more isolation when that person suddenly removed himself from it all, leaving her— in a mess she’d gotten into primarily because of him- to face the heat by herself.

She maintains a brave front in front of the rabblement. She smiles more often now. People with no idea what’s going on think it means she’s completely happy there- the sound of her laugh echoes the valley. If they only caught her off guard at a moment of desperation when her mind and her eyes feel dead. She remains stoic, ignoring the verbal and literal trash being thrown her way, pretending to the world that it doesn’t affect her one bit, wondering all the time how long can this charade go on? When will the cruelty end? Nobody but she knows how deep the wounds of laughter at her expense and pleasure in her misery go. How much they affect a person’s psyche and how long the damage can last.

But she’s decided that she will not let any of that affect her. She’s got way too much sunshine inside her for that. She’s convinced herself that from now on, petty people like that will have absolutely no power over her emotions. She just has too much more in her life for some pathetic sociopaths to take away. Aside from the haters, she has so much to live for, so many dreams, so much love to give to those only willing to take. She does not need them- does not need their opinion or approval on how she conducts herself and her choices in leading her life.

All they are is jealous of her. All they want to do is reduce her sparkle and steal her smile away because they can’t handle it. They “pluck her feathers before she can fly” because they envy her charisma and cannot bear to see someone have it all. They underestimate her and fail to comprehend that her spirit is uncrushable. She does not and will not break easily. She channels her memories of laughter here. She has people who know who she is and who she’s always been to cheer her on. Support from unexpected sources and from people in the very same place as her gives her the will to remain as she is and not buckle over. She takes a vindictive pleasure in the haters’ efforts to be as good as her and failing miserably. Other than that bit of contempt that she allows herself feel, she will not pay attention to any of their trash because that is how inconsequential they are in her life.

Times like this are just steep rocky slopes on her way to her pinnacle where the shine she gives off, will draw the world in. She will get through this because she can- I believe with all my heart and soul that she can and for merely having the strength for it, I am so so proud of you!

Maybe if we just don't talk about them, it'll just go away

By Nirmitee Mehta

Living up to ourselves

Years ago, on a bright, sunny day, I remember the six year old version solemnly promising to herself as she sat  on the swing, pondering on the greater things in life,that she would ‘never ever’ in her life,stoop to using ‘bad words’ like ‘mad’, ‘stupid’ and ‘idiot’.Despite her efforts, she did eventually break that promise and used those very words as well as ones far worse. Now to me, they’re just words like so many others I use on a normal basis. Even so, every now and then, I get a little uncomfortable wondering what the young me would think of me when I do so and whether I’m disappointing her.

I shudder at the thought of putting on black nail polish because just about 3 years ago I found it grotesque and ugly. I told every person who listened that I’d never be seen with it on. Wearing it now would be betraying my younger self, wouldn’t it?

Every once in a while[or more often than that] I do a lot of stupid stuff and say things that are a wee bit dumb. I make mistakes every day of my life. After that I laugh at myself about it. Right now I’ve given my future self complete license to be as stupid as possible and later laugh long and hard about it.I can't stop wondering though, what about the younger me?Wouldn’t she feel rather indignant about being laughed at, even if its by herself? As far as she is concerned, I’m a foreign person-someone she doesn't know at all because she has obviously changed a lot growing up, and she could not have foreseen that coming since time and experiences change all of us and we can do nothing to control it. We all change a little every day of our lives.Some words,thoughts and emotions which are so important and epiphanic at the time of their becoming, irretrievably slip out of your mind like a wispy breeze when you and your state of mind changes.

Can we ever be sure of doing the right things at the right time so as not to regret them later?Can I ever know if I’m betraying my younger self or would she be okay with me talking freely about her? Or would she resent me for it? How will I ever know? All I can do is hope she is as cool as I remember her to be xD

For the most part,on the inside-in my mind, heart and soul I think I've grown up to be someone I would have wanted to become and liked. Why, for all you know, if i somehow could meet my younger self, I could have  a girl crush on me now ;)

By Nirmitee Mehta

The Edge of Sorrow's Blade

          In 10^th grade we did a poem in school called “The Soul's Prayer” which talked about a person wanting to experience every joy, every sorrow- every single emotion that life can mete out.

                   “Spare me no bliss, no pang of strife

                    Withhold no gift of grief [I crave]”

          Why, I wondered then, as did most of my classmates, would anyone ask for so much pain? If you are going to receive what you ask for in full measure, why not just ask for the happy bits and live a complacent life?

          I wondered much the like when I heard a song  where a line went

                   “…And when I’m at the edge of sorrow’s blade

                     Show me how a heart breaks”

          I pondered over the meaning of this line, each successive time I heard the song and my views on it changed gradually, from finding the songwriter raving mad to being more and more intrigued and enamored by the melancholy in the line. Call me a mush but any song lyrics or poignant lines in a book that talk about hearts breaking move me to an almost teary state. Somewhere along the way I’ve starting wanting to feel those very emotions I read and hear of. I don’t know if I’m just being morbid when I think so, but tragedy and the utter……despondency you read about or see depicted in films is rather attractive at times. It draws me into its soul and sifts through my mind until I can no longer think straight.

          Every so often, I think all of us sit with earphones on, listening to a sad song, reflecting on the poignancy in the words, making a music video in our mind about the situation, around it and the part you play in the tragic melodrama.

          Maybe the reason why pain, sorrow, heartache-all of them, fascinate us so much is because all of us want to see how far we can all go, how strong we can prove ourselves to be, until what point will we be capable of going before falling completely apart.

          But we never really will know how much we can bear and how strong we are until we face it, will we? The human spirit never fails to surprise its keepers.A line from the book "PS-I love you" really shows you how, when Holly tells her sister Ciara-If your husband died, you would cope if you had to. There’s nothing brave about it, there’s no choice involved.

          And that’s the way it is, whatever pain that’s meted out to us in life, you learn to cope with it if you have to. Because there’s no choice involved. And because survival is our primary instinct. So really, pain should not scare us that much at all…


-Nirmitee Mehta

Rain Defines Life!

It's raining it's pouring, the old fat man is snoring, he bumped his head into the bed and couldn’t get up in the morning, morning, morning!!! A childhood rhyme that I hear constantly in my head every time I see the rains,  “yes the rains are here, finally the rains are here!”.
This rhyme brings back so many… reveries!  It brings back the love for rain that I’ve felt since I was child! The pitter patter of the drops, the orange hue of the entire atmosphere that threatens to turn grey at any moments, the smell of the ground, the flash of lightning, the roar of the thunder, this one rhyme takes me back to the very greatness of rain!
Another phrase I’ve come to associate with rain is “Pune rains and Pune girls”. It’s a very romantic notion and brings to mind every love story every love scene that has to do with rains…The dark, unaccommodating clouds, a wet girl and a handsome stranger, a love story that we are all secretly waiting for! Rain is something I truly love and I could honestly write odes to it so maybe it’s just expected that for me love of any kind would find all its meaning in rain, especially romantic love! If I love someone I want to love them the way I love the rain, loyally, irrationally, inconveniently, love every imperfection that forms it, love the long wait through summer and winter, a love which even though it annoys me( because how am I ever supposed to travel on the bike when it keeps raining? Rain that’s killing my social life, and making me a perfect couch potato) but even so I love it and I know I should appreciate it because I have waited for it every day and would wait for it every day of forever and all I  know is without it I’m miserable, a love like that, never-ending! Rain defines the basis of fairytales in our harsh world; it takes me back to these words:
   “At the end of the day faith is a funny thing. It turns up when you don't really expect it. It's like one day you realize that the fairy tale may be slightly different than you dreamed. The castle, well, it may not be a castle. And it's not so important happy ever after, just that it’s happy right now. See once in a while, once in a blue moon, people will surprise you, and once in a while people may even take your breath away.”
 …and rain gives me so much faith.
There’s one other thing I love other thing I love about rain, it makes me realize the importance of art and beauty, all I can think of in the rains every time I look at it even when it ruins plans and annoys me is how beautiful it makes everything, how every colour is suddenly so much more vibrant, how green is suddenly the most beautiful colour in the world but then so is every colour that the rain touches! When we study environmental education one of the reasons to save our environment is listed as saving its priceless beauty, I always thought this as a little selfish I mean we should save the environment simply because we destroyed it so now it’s our duty to save it not to feast our eyes! But when I look at the rain I understand, beauty inspires us! And natural beauty has inspired people for eons, inspires to want better from life and inspires art and wouldn’t life be a little less meaningful without art?
And sometimes I forget everything all of this… elaborate meanings, hidden messages, and make my mind blank, cuddle into a blanket and eat something piping hot, like Maggi, in fact I’m going to do that now, maybe you should too because the rain really should be appreciated and made most of it comes only so often.

By Radha Agarwal

A generation of tech-addicts

          Here I was at the Venetian in Macau and instead of paying attention to the exquisite sights and sounds of the hotel, considered to be one of the most magnificent in the world, I was ill at ease, frustrated without reason and wanting time to go by a little faster. It was the same a few days later in the vibrant, pulsing city of Hong Kong, brimming with new things to see, take in and capture in my memory as well as in my camera, where instead of doing just that I listened to the nagging feeling in my head that was telling me about the number of notifications on facebook, mentions of twitter, bbms, whatsapps and text messages I was presumably getting that very moment. I was partly justified on my birthday when I was curious to see how eloquent and creative my friends would get with wallposts along with the customary greetings from most of my friend list.

           Why all this antsyness? Why the scrambling to check for free wireless access on my cell phone? Why the anger at the hotels we stayed at for not offering Wi-Fi free of cost for guests so I could calm my nerves (SUCH misers I tell you!!) Why do my parents keep berating me for being a tech addict? Surely not!

          Surely I’m not the only one. I just like being connected and being in touch, right? I just like talking to my buds each night and tell them about my day. Shouldn’t I be completely justified in doing that seeing that if I don’t tell them ASAP I’ll forget later, not just to tell them but also in my head, creating a void in my memory.

          Coming back to my original point, why is it so impossible for so many of us to live in peace without having to be obsessive compulsive about our electronic lives? How is it that, if asked what we wouldn’t be able to imagine our lives without, most of us answer cell phone or laptop? Every time I pass a water body or a hole in the ground, I instinctively hold my phone closer and tighter in my hand, unable to imagine what I’d do if it fell down. How did we start letting small boxes of plastic, metal and silicon or whatever it is they’re made of dictate so much of our lives?

          This isn’t one of those superior sounding anti-facebook, anti-technology posts, there are enough of those around and I’d be one to talk, not even being able to deactivate my facebook account for a week in an attempt to study for exams unlike a friend who deactivates her account every time she’s bored. I just want to ask why we absolutely have to be connected at all times. Why can’t we do without just for a few days?

By Nirmitee Mehta

NOTE: This post may or may not have been exaggerated, depending on how desperate it makes me sound ;)

We Talk #1 - Nirmitee And Chahita

Nirmitee: I'm confused :-S
See everyone says stop looking for love,stop asking for love and then
love will find you
But the secret* says that you have to ask for the things you really
want....which one of them is true?
[*The Secret is a book we're reading, by Rhonda Byrne, the central idea of which is that our thoughts attract things in our lives.]

Chahita: I have no answer to that...this whole idea of Love is so complicated
I guess you shouldn't exactly look for love but you should never give up on hope

Nirmitee: But what should you be thinking? So far I've only come up with-im not
looking but please let me find love :P

Chahita: You know what....

Nirmitee: Tell me?

Chahita: There are so many contradictory statements made by all these famous people
One person says live life like there's no tomorrow
While another one says plan for the future otherwise everything will
go haywire :P
You just have to choose a side, really

Nirmitee: So basically every advice u get is worthless coz there's some other
successful person who's done the opposite?you just have to choose
what's right for you...

Chahita: Yes exactly!
It all depends on you in the end
Every single thing happening in your life is because of you...

Nirmitee: It makes life all the more confusing....yet more fun because there's
no absolutely correct way

Chahita: So true...

Nirmitee: You can ham up as much stuff as u want to..