Saturday, November 29, 2014


Yeah. Whatever.
I know.  Its been forever.  I wish that I could say that I missed you all but frankly,  I am so busy I might as well need someone to remind me to breathe every now and then. I am like this permanently sugar rushed bunny who you could probably find in about twenty places at any given time. And if you're lucky, you might even be able to see me bounce. Or hop. Or frog jump.
I can't remember the last time I just sat somewhere doing absolutely nothing. Like stare out of a window and contemplate the symbolism of sands blown away by wind and some similar shit. I have also not been finding much time to rant. However I have created a lot of highly embarrassing situations for myself in the last couple of months.
Example: I enter the basketball court to play for my team.  One minute into the game, a girl throws the ball right at my face. It hits my nose and completely blurs my glasses.  Half a minute later,  same girl runs like a frickin kraken and surprise surprise, who into? Your already injured, blurred vision possessing, most clumsy person you will find blogger. I get thrown to the ground. Later on in the game I get the ball and try to shoot bit guess what? I can hardly see the damn basket. I am pretty sure an alligator could have aimed the ball better than me. I kick myself off the team and hid out in the Tartarus for a couple of weeks.
Verdict: 14th most embarrassing episode in the nearly 15 year old life of Niranjana Menon.
I also went and punched an idiot in my class.  He claimed that it didn't hurt but I saw him rubbing his elbow and knee (I kicked him too) resentfully.
I am hardly ever in class.  I am in charge of a bunch of things plus I have also taken on a form of torture known as junior captaincy where I do not just my work but also about three other people's.  Plus I am constantly  threatened by teachers.  I have a pile of work to do and my exams start on Monday.  And what am I doing?  Blogging. If I don't stop now I don't think I will be able to live with myself. See ya.

Friday, November 21, 2014


What's family? The ones that can hurt you, betray you and still make you happy.
Family is not just about blood. Its about the bonds. The little joys and the sorrows that are shared. Its about keeping little secrets. About those white lies, just to keep the other from hurting. Its those broken dishes and the badly aimed balls that crack beloved artifacts. Its being able to read minds by just looking at each other, by the twitch of an eye, the tremors in the smile. It is knowing that something is wrong without any words. Its those bear hugs that nearly crack your ribs and leave you breathless. Its about the sign language, the personalized vocabulary, the inside jokes.
Family is about the broken hearts. It is about the poison in the words. Its about those remarks that are so sharp that they can dig deep holes. It is about not always believing in each other. Its about wondering whether you will ever make it. It is about hating the ones you love with such and intensity that you can feel your heart explode. They are the ones who really know how out of control you are. How stupid, insensitive and beautiful you can be.
Family is about a group of people who hang on together from one crisis to the next.
Its about wondering why you are still sane. Its about crying so much that you feel hollow. Its about the cool hands that caress your forehead as you lie still, spent. Its about the people who can make you forget about the biggest hurt. They are also the ones who can hurt you the most.
Family is what makes us human. 

Monday, November 3, 2014


Her hair looked like fire.
That's the first thing he saw. It looked as though an aura of flame was billowing around her. Little charcoal black strands were tucked behind her ear, but the rest of it flew in the wind. The orange sunlight cut through it like light in darkness. It illuminated her face and made her ebony eyes sparkle.
She was looking out of the window. He sat down next to her in the only vacant seat in the whole train. She didn't even stir. 
The train lurched forward. 
He watched her from the corner of his eyes. Her hands were short and stubby. They were smeared with paint. Her nails were bleeding. She nervously clasped them around a pencil that she was holding.
She was trying to draw something in the book that she had placed on her lap. It was fraying on the edges, dog eared and torn in many place. She had scribbled all over it. But there was one empty page and she was drawing a portrait into it. She kept on erasing it. Again and again she made the paper empty and began from scratch. It took him a while until he understood whose resemblance she was trying to capture. It was self portrait. But it was all wrong. Her eyes were more shapely, her smile prettier, her hair more startling. She saw herself as much less than she was. 
She suddenly stood up, and walked away, leaving her book on her seat. 
He pondered on what to do next. His stop was fast approaching. He gathered up his bags and got ready to leave. 
The last second, he turned around and opened her book. He scribbled something and quickly left it in the same place. 
The girl with the flaming hair returned to take her seat. She was glad that he was gone. He was slightly creepy. She opened her book once again to stare at her own image. Filled with flaws and imperfections and hurt. Just like her. Instead she found something written there for her.
'You are more beautiful than you think.'