Because nothing one says can fully describe the feeling of being herded like cattle in narrow lanes, while still being of free mind and will. Of having forgotten the road and yet not being lost. Of having found calm in the midst of chaos.

Maybe a photograph would help.

Signing Out,


Just One Plizz?

I want a pretty orangish-yellowish-reddish lamp to hang up in my room and swirl and cast shadows on my face when I try to do anything. I want to go off to the French Cameroons and retrace every single step Gerald Durrell took so that I can finally find my way in this world. I want to be thin and pretty and demented and embarrass my friends on the sidewalk and still make someone look at me and want to know more. I want to be a nicer person who doesn't think so much and doesn't become quite so dramatic for no reason at all. I want to be able to weather any storm that comes my way and become stronger every time something bad or undeserved happens.

I want.
I want.
I want.
I W-A-N-T.

But nobody really believes me when I say it.

Signing Out,
The Girl Who Didn't Cry Wolf Yet Is Not Believed.


He is scared of the rain water, more so of thunderstorms. It has become a task, to get him to step out in the drizzle. He growls at the curtains and looks dazed for most part. He has taken up gently barking at my sleeping figure in the early hours of the twilight. He has for most part, made me feel demented.

And they thought Betty was the mother of an idiot boy.

Signing Out,
Demented Doggie Lover


No Kidding

You know that West Delhi don't give no shit about anything that world does when you find it easier to get an auto on the days when the whole of the public transportation of the city is supposedly crippled by a Bharat Bandh. And when the local MLA tells you to not worry, nobody really cares about the price rise in this part of the city.

Signing Out,
Proud West Delhite.