Screw Everyone Else.

I have this vague memory of first grade, when the boys in my class were running around during recess, chasing all the girls. We were leaping all around the basketball court. It was fun. Not for me, though. While the other girls were giggling gloriously and running away from the boys, I was the one chasing the boys.

It’s one of those happy memories which in reality, makes you sad.

It’s sad because I still feel like the one who is always trying to fit in, the one who’s chasing after things I’ll never catch. And I want to be the one who’s being chased.

Ever since that fated day when I looked into a mirror and detected blemishes and various imperfections that had somehow previously gone unnoticed, I have been overly concerned about how others must think I look and seem, and about how others must perceive me.

It’s maddening not to know what people think of me. Do they think that I’m the quiet girl in the corner who ‘can’t even find her own mind’? Or am I the geek girl who crushes on people who don’t even exist? Am I that weird, awkward girl who’d rather tell a bunch of papers all her secrets than her own mother?

In this pursuit to seem better in the other person’s eyes, I haven’t really figured out who I am, in actuality. I change from person to person. I meddle with myself and morph myself to try to be better. It’s sad.

My excuse: People are harsh sometimes. Society is filled with judges and critics. And I’ll admit, I am one, too.

It’s easy to judge, but it’s hard not to care.

I ask myself the same question. What will everyone else think?

“Is this dress skimpy? What will my grandmother think?”

“I’ve always been scoring well, getting good grades. If I don’t, what will everybody else think?”

“Oh God, look at my hair! What will the people on the road think?”

It’s stupid, because people on the road couldn’t care less about my hair. It’s stupid, because even though I know that, I can’t seem to stop thinking like this.

Some weeks ago, during a sending-off party organized by everyone from my grade, I got voted ‘Biggest Nerd’. I got a crown. And I thought, Oh Well. At least now I know what these people think of me.

But then that I did know, I couldn’t pretend to be very happy about it. Ignorance was, indeed, bliss.

But just some days ago, I was walking with my aunt when I spotted this large woman. She was fat, wearing a lot of make-up and she was dressed up in a tight black dress that just served to accentuate her body shape. She looked at me, and it was easy for her to read the judgment written plainly on my face. And she didn’t even care.

Screw you, she seemed to say silently.

Screw you and your opinion.

And. Well, that day is to be marked in history as the day I learnt some sense.

Now, wearing the ridiculously large ‘Biggest Nerd’ crown, I don’t feel sad, like I failed myself. Or like I failed those random people who voted for me. Okay. Well, I don’t feel anything in particular, but that’s better than feeling stupid and sad, isn’t it?

Because really, there are as many opinions as there are men, right? It’s not my duty to please everyone, and it isn’t even possible. The only solution is to be myself. Only then can I find people who actually care. Those people are the ones who matter the most.

Screw everyone else.

Perceive

I say I don’t know much about you, but in reality, I know you inside-out.

I know that when you take notice of something, when something catches your attention, its hard to make you stop. I know that when you decide you love something, you love it like an obsession. I know your axis never shifts and love is the centripetal force you always seem to be hanging on to.

I know that you’re desperate.

You’ve worked all your life to be closed off, remote. But I see the faults, the fissures. I can see the secrets dripping, filtering out. And you don’t even realize.

I see you, and you don’t even know it.

I know you, and you don’t even look at me.

Don’t you see me?

Why am I still hidden?

How much harder am I supposed to strike these walls to make these cracks large enough for you to see?

Don’t you see my secrets staring at you?

Don’t you see I’m desperate too?

I am not afraid of the dark

I am not afraid of the dark

I am afraid of the fact

That light has to be summoned

Created, called upon, switched on

While darkness always remains

Behind that thin layer of heat and light.

It is hidden, waiting to leap out at you.

I am not afraid of the dark.

I am afraid of the things

That lurk in it.

Things that crawl, slither, kill

Things you cannot see

But you know they are

Watching you.

I am not afraid of the dark

But I am afraid

Of so much more.

Eyes

I could write stories

About those eyes alone.

How they seem to hold

So many paradoxes,

So many riddles

And so many answers

At the same time.

How they also seem to hold

All the weight of the world.

How they are unfocused, unclear

So often; when she’s reading,

Or just thinking,

Like she’s lost somewhere. Stuck

Between two words.

Between two worlds.

How they are red, bloodshot

Every time she steps out of the bathroom,

And how I know

That it is not because of

The water that seeped in;

That it is because of the tears

That trickled out.

How they seem to have walls

Behind them; dams,

And how they are cracking

With the force of all the words

And all the tears

She’s holding back.

I could write stories, volumes

About those eyes alone

Because they reveal everything

Her lips are too afraid to say.

These Chapters

Words always meant a lot to me

But these ones seem to weigh me down

But they lift me up at the same time,

And I love them too much.

These words,

Which have been woven

From the threads of memories

Of these ten years

These words,

Which recount every moment

I thought I wasted

But ended up as an ethereal memory,

These words,

Which paint each one

Of those lovely, lovely human beings

I so vaguely call as my ‘best friends’,

These ten chapters,

I love them too much.

I don’t want to miss them.

I don’t want to turn the page.

Maybe I’m just too afraid

To reach the end of this book too soon.

And one fine day,

These chapters might burn away

Into nothingness, and eventually,

I will forget.

But right at this moment

I’d trade every page

In this book of my life,

Every memory,

And every second,

To read it all

And experience it all

Just once more.

He Will Rise

Just when the flutter of your heart

Gets feebler, quieter

Until it’s just a steady beat.

Just when you can look him

In the eye, and confront him;

No breaking, No dissolving,

And absolutely no getting lost.

Just when you breathe

That ultimate sigh of relief

Just then, he will Rise.

Just when you seem to

Find a little more oxygen

When you should be drowning.

Just when you’re able

To catch your breath

Quickly enough to retort.

Just when his haircut

Starts to look half-bad

That’s when he will Rise.

Just when your lips twitch

Into that smile of victory

Just when you’re holding

Your love at gunpoint

Just then, you will let your gun fall

And you will realize:

You’re just as foolish

As the rest of them all.

SOME Girls and What Makes Them Annoying

So, on this rather dull and depressing night, with a lot to do but with no plans to actually do anything, I sit before the computer and think about how my potential writing career is going down the drain in future because I’m not at all writing these days.

Suddenly, a quote comes into my mind.

“Elizabeth Bennet, is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves (to the other sex) by undervaluing their own ; (and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds.) But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art.”

-Caroline Bingley

Okay, so I greatly esteem and revere Elizabeth Bennet. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to undervalue my own sex (she would never do that either). NEVER.

But really. As feminist as I am, as much as I believe in the might of the girl child, I cannot look past the fact that there ARE girls in this world who are just completely and utterly ridiculous. Like Caroline Bingley.

I mean, after fourteen years of being a girl, I’d wager I’m qualified enough to judge those kinds of girls. And enlighten the human race about a few of their myriad absurdities.

Right?

So I start, with rehabilitated hope about my future in the writing business, to write about SOME Girls And What Makes Them Annoying. (please note that I said SOME, not ALL. Most girls are nice. Like me. Like Jennifer Lawrence. Like JKR. We’re sensational.)

#1: Giggling

Ugggh. The Giggling. ‘Tis a meaner art than undervaluing thy own sex. The girly, flirtatious giggles for ABSOLUTELY NO REASON are maddeningly absurd and very annoying.

#2: Period Talks

Oh God. I understand that that pad you’re using isn’t even good, and that Tampon Company’s jingles LIE, I really, really do, but really? Tell your mom. Not the whole world.

#3: Backstabbers

Meanies. Loyalty is another thing that died along with chivalry.

#4: Lying

A long long time ago, when I was cooing about The Fault in Our Stars, you were like, whatever. Now it’s a movie (and a marvelous and ‘popular’ one at that) and EVERYONE’s read it, you’re all “It’s so beautiful. I cried bucket loads. Blahblahblah work of art blahblah most amazing book I’ve read blahblah cried for THREE HOURS.” When you probably just watched the movie and don’t even know the author’s name.

#4: The overuse of apparently ‘cool’ words just to seem cool

Can someone file a lawsuit against the suddenly predominant ‘word’ ‘lol k’?

I went out to buy a book.

Lol k

My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations.

Lol k.

My dog died.

Lol k

Stupidstupidstupid.

 

#5: OMG I AM SO TOTALLY A BOOKWORM. SEE? I HAVE NERDY GLASSES TO PROVE IT

I’ve come across loads of these girls. Wearing nerdy glasses and talking about how you LOVE TO READ do not make you a bookworm/nerd. ACTUALLY THUMBING THROUGH BOOKS AND LOVING THE BREATHTAKING ONES TO PIECES makes you a bookworm.

I mean, why the sudden need to appear nerdy? Is it not ‘uncool’ anymore?

Well, anyway, you want to look like a witty bookworm? Why not start with remembering that J.K.Rowling is a WOMAN and NOT A MAN.

 

This is getting me all riled up. And tired.

So that’s it.

 

I Should Write

I should write

About something

About anything.

There’re so many things

To write about.

 

I should write

About these thoughts

That travel perpetually

Around my head

But really, they make no sense.

Kind of like this poem, but worse.

 

I should write

Like the sea spews salt.

Even though salt

Is not sweet.

But writing

Is not taking back

Writing is engraving.

And these scars,

They don’t fade.

 

I should use my words

The words I love

Conundrum

Poise

Eternal

Tranquil

Silver linings

Shadowing

These words

Aren’t they beautiful?

Aren’t words beautiful?

But what are they

If not used?

 

I should write

I should rhyme.

I should expel.

Why aren’t I?

Why?

Maybe because I’m just too busy

Noticing how many Shoulds

There are in my life

Right now.

Ambitions

When I was younger, I wanted to be a police-woman. I could go around arresting people and no one could arrest me because I would just arrest them back.

I wanted to build air pipes connecting Earth and other planets and shoo all our greenhouse gases into those planets. It wouldn’t harm them as it does us.

And then I went around telling people I wanted to become the President just to show them I could dream big.

Now, when I’m closer to all those dreams than I ever was, I don’t even want them.

All I want is to fulfill everyone’s expectations.

And they have such great expectations… They want me to reach such great heights. They know I will reach great heights. Their only worry is if they’ll live to see that day.

It would be so much more excruciating if you fail when everyone expects you to win.

That’s my only fear now.

And I have never felt more cowardly.

 

 

A long post about fictional people (I mean guys from books)

You know what would suck? Falling in love with a fictional person. A person who you can never meet; who you can never talk to; who you hope exists, but doesn’t exist.

This is practically the story of my life, right now.

But really, it’s not that sad a story.

And that’s why I’m going to write about these people. You know, so one day, years later, I can read this and remember what these people meant to me when I was younger.

There are so many of them, so I just decided to classify them into groups according to the things I most love about them. Just so you know, I’ve had a LOT of literary crushes. So this is going to be a long post:

KNIGHTS-IN-SHINING-ARMOR

Jace Wayland, The Mortal Instruments by Cassandra Clare– He is, hands down, the most obnoxious and exasperating guy ever. So obviously, who doesn’t love him? And of course, the sarcastic retorts and the out-of-the-blue explosions of passion take a lot of breaths away. When I read the part where *spoiler* Valentine tells Clary and Jace that they are siblings, I died. Figuratively, out of shock. And horror. So I read all the blurbs about this series in goodreads and when I found out about how they are NOT siblings (I don’t know how), I literally howled with mirth.

Tobias Eaton, Divergent trilogy by Veronica Roth– Veronica Roth, all I want to ask you is WHY?? WHY DID YOU DO SUCH A THING TO THIS GUY!!! HOW COULD YOU!? He deserved so much more. Poor guy. WHAT DID HE DO TO YOU?! HE HAS TO FIND LOVE AGAIN. HE HAS TO! But it would be a teeny-weensy bit more romantic if he didn’t… but anyway.

Tobias Eaton- Divergent:The Movie

Peeta Mellark

Percy Jackson

Peeta, The Hunger Games Trilogy by Suzanne Collins– Peeta isn’t technically a ‘knight-in-shining-armor’ given that the heroine, Katniss, can take care of herself pretty well. But he’s like this shaft of sunlight, sometimes an intense beam, sometimes just a feeble glimmer, but always close by, even during the darkest of times. He’s loyal, sweet, and funny without being too much of a tease. He’s good with words. Plus, he bakes. *fanning face* seriously, can a person GET any dreamier? I think not. I guess I was so sick of the clichéd ‘bad boys’ that when ‘the first daffodil of spring’ bloomed, I couldn’t wait to pluck it right away.

Percy Jackson, the Percy Jackson series & the Heroes Of Olympus series by Rick Riordan– PERCYBETH  FOREVER! Who can resist this guy. See? It’s not even a question. I plainly COULDN’T put a question mark there. My Brain Percy somehow looks better than Logan Lerman. Bonus.

Daemon Black, Obsidian by Jennifer Armentrout– Who doesn’t love aliens? Especially infuriating, handsome, green-eyed, dark-haired, powerful, obsessive, sarcastic aliens?

Patch, Hush Hush series by Becca Fitzpatrick– An ill-disciplined guy with wings + dark intense eyes= dreamland. I know he’s clichéd, but… I don’t have an explanation.

NERDS

Matthew Watkins, Flat-out Love by Jessica Park– Matty totally transfixed me with the nerdy t-shirts. And his totally witty e-mails as Finn: *sigh*

Sam Kinnison, Life in Outer Space by Melissa Keil– His tremendously funny POV was just So. Freaking. WONDERFUL. Hates exclamatory sentences? Loves princess Leia? Typical nerd? Socially inept? Oh my God, where are the Sam Kinnisons of this world? Or, more aptly, India?

 Cricket Bell, Lola and The Boy next Door by Stephanie Perkins– First of all, the name. I mean, why couldn’t MY name be as cool as that? Alexander Graham Bell’s great-great-great-and-so-on-up-to-some-big-number grandson is quirky, sweet and has a remarkable (for a geek) sense of fashion, making it very hard for Lola, the protagonist (and many other girls, I might add) to not fall for him.

  Michael Moscovitz, The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot– Now, where do I start? Michael is the coolest nerd ever. I mean, he plays a multiple number of musical instruments, has a great sense of humor, is multi-talented and passionate, can hack into various highly-protected programs, has dark brown eyes (tcha!), invented a Cardio-Arm to save heart patients all around the world, fell in love with a princess, got her to love him back, became a millionaire, stole hearts, formed a band, became muscular, and so on. I could keep going. For a long time. Ten books, and I’ve still not gotten over him.

 Etienne St.Clair, Anna And The French Kiss by Stephanie Perkins– He’s got it all. French name, American mother, English accent, amazing hair, good looks, cute(?) teeth. Everything. Except, it’s all flawed, in one way or another. His dad’s an evil control-freak, his mom’s got cancer, and his height is dismal… But in this case, the flaws just accentuate his individuality. That’s what I love about this not-really-nerdy golden boy.

 Levi, Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell– His permanent good mood and general happiness (albeit without any particular reason) has this incredible tendency to melt into your body and stay there for a long time. It was a refreshing change and his “Don’t make me angry-kiss you.” Was simply adorable.

Conrad Fisher, The Summer Series by Jenny Han– He’s loved Belly since forever. He can do anything he set his mind to. He got his hands on an infinity-pendant-necklace-thing (WHERE DID HE GET IT?! I WANT IT!), and he can surf well. A NERD WHO SURFS LIKE A PROFESSIONAL. (Does that sound weird only to me?) Need I say any more?

ROCKSTARS AND JUST STARS

Adam Wilde, If I stay by Gayle Forman– Just started reading If I stay. This one looks promising. Not saying anything, though.

  Ronald Weasley, The Harry Potter Series by J.K. Rowling– Weasley’s my king. That’s all I have to say.

   Prince Maxon, The Selection by Keira Cass– Who says ‘My Dear’ NOW? Except for old people, that is? This strapping young lad makes even ‘My Dear’ sound cool…ish.

   Mr. Darcy, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen– I re-read this full book four times just for the pleasure of reading the ‘Darcy-parts’, as I like to call them. Mr. Darcy was my second literary crush and I have no   idea how he inched into my heart. (Wait. Is that tacky?)

   Jesse De Silva, The Mediator Series by Meg Cabot– Meg Cabot is an expert in the art of creating swoon-worthy-sadly-unattainable guys; this ca-yute Spanish ghost is one of her best works (after Michael, of course).

Augustus Waters, The Fault in Our Stars by John Green– He is one bright star. A distinct burning ruby star which nobody can fathom (into a constellation; might as well add that in too).

Gilbert Blythe, Anne of The Island by L.M. Montgomery– I absolutely loved Anne of the Green Gables when I was younger and Gilbert Blythe, the ‘horrible tease’, the bad-boy-turned-good-and-gentlemanly was one of the several reasons.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=98Ww4FG0n48- Carrie Hope Fletcher: BOYS IN BOOKS ARE BETTER