That someone though!

From,
The human-confused-being.

To,
That someone.

Subject - Anything and everything.

Like most of you, I too have no idea how could it be December already while I am still struck in 2017 New Year flop plans.

Realising that the time has come to bit bitter sweet goodbye to 2017, I now rush to my "TO DO in 2017" list, just to ensure that things are neither done nor dusted.

I take time to digest the fact that I am talented enough to have spent a year in an eye's blink by doing absolutely nothing.

My 2017 tasted most of my laughter, here and there tear trips, the lump in the throat moments, about to burst out situations, sheer embarrassments, dramas, tantrums, attachments and detachments.

Here I am who lived, loved and is now thrown out alive and thankful.

I now want to thank that someone who sent a "Have you reached safely?" text. You made me feel taken care of.

Thanks to that someone who fought with me cats and dogs and then slept off only after ensuring that I haven't skipped that night's dinner.

Thanks to that someone who took time to compliment my inner soul and remind me how beautiful I am inside out.

Thanks to that someone who asked me If I am alright when I am perfectly not. Thank you for being all ears and tolerating my volcanic explosion.

Thanks to that someone who was always ready to ring my door bell after having received my "Are you free now?" text message.

Thanks to that someone who wished me on my birthday by a call or a personal message when you had all the facilities to share a memory in facebook and seal it.

Thanks to that someone who showed me much love in person and not by way of facebook reactions, instagram double taps and whatsapp emoji.

Thanks to that someone who asked me out for a coffee in the middle of pastas and pizzas.

Thanks to that someone who tagged me in deep and loud posts that touched my soul and made my heart grin.

I secretly and openly hope that atleast one person popped up in your mind while you went through this page of my diary.

Just hearty thanks to 2017 and each being who added stars to my sky.

No! I am not. But!

I am the girl, who is okay with him hanging out with other girls,
But, secretly I hope that they take the opposite seat in a café.

I am that girl, who is cool enough to see another female face in his storyline,
But, only after ensuring the kilometers of distance between them.

I am a girl, who doesn’t create a scene when my bestie send screenshot of him socializing with his female friends,
But, trust me, volcanoes are already exploding inside and a smile is struck outside.

I am a girl, who is totally not bothered about his whatsapp messages or Insta directs,
But, I swear, I would read even the dot and comma if I get a chance to.

I am a girl and I insist him to drop his female friend when it is a rush hour,
But I get to peace only after I see where her hand rests when he rides.

I am a girl and I praise the shirt that she has gifted him,
But deep down, I pray hard for it to be lost, torn or burnt to ashes.

No I am not cunning and he is not faking.

I don’t want to reveal my insecurities which might stop him from being himself,
But I still hope that he listens to my inner tantrums someday.

By,
The girl who has crossed her teens,
But yet to cross the stereo streams.

Neither a Nightmare nor a Day dream

Around the world in 90 days is the plan. Dumping the suitcase with all sort of tangible things which my hands were able to reach first, I created a hassle in air at home which is already upside down.
A blend of creatures which never nods the head for the take of the other but clings on one another like forever – Family they say it is. With all my talent, finally I managed to gather my Appa, Amma and little sister outside our home along with their baggage which looked like as if we are shifting to another planet for a lifetime. My Amma made sure that the suitcase is fat enough so that it might explode any minute and create a scene in the Airport.
Booking a cab from Triplicane to Chennai International Terminal, I mentally ticked the first Wish-list Checklist – The International Chennai Airport Gateway.
After all the check-ins and boarding on the plane, the moment I had waited for this since my first flight, the moment for which I would lavishly and happily decrease my bank balance to nil has arrived.
Making a trip with my Amma and Appa in flight for the first time or rather I would say, their first flight it is. I never wanted to miss a single moment and kept staring at both of them completely. I could see their astonishment, excitement, hidden fear and overwhelming happiness.
When the flight was about to take off, they instantly clutched each other’s hand revealing their support system and immediately Amma leaned on Appa’s shoulder. I was smiling. My lips, eyes, heart, each nerve and cell in my body are smiling.
Looking outside the window, my head honoured my heart with a Vote of Thanks. I have had an inevitable dream of making my parent’s first flight along with them with every single penny of mine. Touchwood, I pinch myself in a cinematic way to finally hint my sense that I am living my dream that moment.
The four years of hard work and perseverance in securing a Professional Career and the two years of early mornings, late nights and Sunday works found its meaning in front of my parent’s happiness.
I felt like patting my back and gave myself an high-five in my mind for all the ‘Big-Nos’ I said while it came to spending on myself and how desperately I saved each Rupee for this to come true.
My Amma took out the shopping magazine in the flight and with her usual habit, she started pondering on things by applying the filter – sort price lowest to highest. With pride, I looked deep into her eyes for 3 seconds and said “Till this minute, you both have neglected seeing price tags when it was for your daughters. It is our turn now. It is from this point of time in life, we wish to see you both sit cross-legged and live like a King and Queen.
That smile which my mother wore that moment; it absolutely failed to hide the chest swelling pride and unconditional love that she always carried.
Interrupting her thoughts, the door bell rang.
Taking a deep breath, she closed the diary and sealed the nib.
Wondering how much luck and blessings it takes to be a loving daughter who seeks happiness from the smile of her parents and not a female who struggles each slumber with a stranger with no heart but having a life and an intestine.
With accumulating and escalating thought process between closing the diary and opening the door to another customer, the wandering pages in air, resembling her soul, revealed her sign-off – Pen-woman with Passion, Nalini Jameela.