Maybe we will, maybe we won't...

I'm sure you remember that beautiful frock. The smooth black velvet bodice, the deep pink lace sleeves. You loved it. You wore it every other day. It didn't matter that dress was dirty. It didn't matter that people were sick of seeing you in it. Your mother shouted, screamed and eventually pleaded with you to take it off. But of course, you refused.

One fine day you woke up and wore the dress only to realize that it had grown shorter by a few inches. You pretended to ignore it and wore it nonetheless. Months passed and you couldn't help but notice that the dress exposed a few more inches of your thighs. Obviously, father did not like that. They literally had to tear you away from that dress. The Mother said that the dress had become short but you knew that like it or not, it was you who outgrew the dress that was perfectly normal. You had grown bigger, set your sights at better things, like that gorgeous pant suit that everyone seemed to be wearing. Frocks weren't your "thing" anymore. 

At every point in life we outgrow certain things. Sometimes, we even outgrow people. You just know that they do not fit in your way of thinking any more. That's when you realize that it is time to move on. 

So in this spirit of moving on to another chapter in my life I have decided to take the plunge and do what a Blogger fan girl would never do. I have decided that it is time for a change. A change that goes by the name of Wordpress. For a while now I've had this constant feeling that something wasn't right. I could never put my finger to what exactly was bothering me but I do know that Wordpress might be a part of the solution. So from now I will be blogging at maybeinmadras.wordpress.com. Just click on the link to transfer there. And we will meet, maybe in Madras.

Sometimes I'm too dramatic for my own good. I should have lived in a book. A really long, extremely dramatic book full of sequences the idle mind can never imagine, full of dreams that do not end.


That's exactly where I deserve to be.

An open wound. Bare skin. Unzipped. 

Why is it so difficult to give yourself permission to feel. To feel without being betrayed, to feel without a doubt.  Why are we holding back? Why can't we just say exactly what we want to and move on? Why do I have to think before I talk?

So may times in life we come across situations that begs us to feel, makes our hearts beat faster. But we're scared, so scared. Of feeling. It doesn't matter anymore if it is right or wrong but you have to feel it in your heart. But we are scared of being exposed. We don't want to be taken for granted. But what guarantee is there that we will be? What guarantee is there that we wont? That's when you take a blind leap of faith. Blind, but your heart is open. Blind, but you've never seen clearer than right now, than this moment that takes your breath away.

"Some people turn sad awfully young. No special reason, it seems, but they seem almost to be born that way. They bruise easier, tier faster, cry quicker, remember longer and, as I say, get sadder younger than anyone else in the world. I know, for I'm one of them."

- Ray Bradbury

"I was born with an enormous need for affection and a terrible need to give it".

-Audrey Hepburn