Grey

It's Sunday. Our day. The day where we lay in the bed for hours doing our own thing, until it's sunny and bright. By the time we leave the bed for our breakfast, our bed sheet is all crumpled. And we start bantering over who will cook and who will clean.

Today, the weather has been gloomy. And ever since the morning, we've been fighting. You're upset, and I really hurt. Did we really have to fight on a Sunday morning? You know how much I hate it.

Why haven't you kissed me yet already? Where are our rules of making up? Should I make you a cup of coffee? Why haven't you made me a cup yourself?! Fuck it. I don't wanna bother myself, so I'll pretend to work, while you pretend to read.

No… Don't go. Don't leave the bed...
Okay, the bathroom is an exception. We're both allowed pee breaks.

Yeah. You look better in the bed. 

Stay.

Each time you're stealing glances and fidgeting with your book, I want to hold you and help you calm down. Each time your legs are brushing against mine, there are goosebumps all over my body. I am dreaming of you throwing your book on the side table, coming close to me, putting my laptop aside and leaning in for a kiss. I am not just dreaming. You haven't left the bed yet. So I am hopeful.

Wait.

I can do that...

Credits: Tumblr

Yes. I am gonna do it. I am gonna stop writing this. I am gonna put my laptop away, get on top of you, put your book away, remove your glasses and pull you in a kiss. I'll nibble on your lips, suck on your tongue and kiss you deeply. I'll let my tongue roll all over your lips, inside your mouth and between your teeth.

Our coffees can wait. The cooking and cleaning can wait, too. I'll kiss you hard. I'll kiss you until you surrender — until you kiss me back harder. Until you push me on the bed and we find your tongue at our favorite place. Until the sheet is crumpled once more. Until only the sky is grey, and our hearts pink.

About this not-so-accidental Project called Mitti

Log in.

I had been hanging out at this new cafè for 3 days straight. Had been almost a year working with Mocha, had taken quite a few trips, and had researched quite a bit on cafè cultures across the cities I had traveled to. So when I sat down on that single couch, under the Fire & Ice poem reading the book Asura, I had strongly felt that this place had the vibes that I'd wanna stay with. Also, had the potential to be different than all the other cafès of the city.

The 4th day, it was only accidentally, that I learned about Mitti looking for a social media manager. But I think it wasn't purely accidental. It was serendipitous. I kinda invited Mitti in my life. And totally walked the red carpet into this experience myself.

I was on board after 20 days of its opening. The inception of branding had just begun. Since then, it's been a journey of almost two and a half years with Mitti. Very quietly, it became the thing I would wake up looking forward to every morning.

I love everything about it - the logo, the menu, the food, the culture, the people I met via it, the concept, the chai, and the space it gave me to experiment and learn.

From thoughts and social media concepts to design and communication branding, from menu development and events to chilling with regulars and all the third party dealings, from events ranging from Improv Music eve to Writers' Jam, from me taking over the mic to me crying on the center table :P, from me assisting on shoots to me creating a social media presence that became the talk of the town — I've been so invested that it feels like my baby!

Gave it my blood and sweat, my soul and heart and I love — absolutely LOVE — how Mitti reflects all of it.

This project will forever be close to my heart. Now as I wind this up, I can only think of how I shaped it, and also, how it shaped me.

Creating this brand has been a crazy energy ride – an overwhelming rollercoaster, my personal creative space and also, an absolute pleasure.

Logging out.

(Check out my social media branding work, campaigns, ideas here @mitticafe)

Owning 28

Picture from my birthday dinner :)

I turned twenty-eight this year.

For the past three years, I have felt the fear in my heart related to my age. I had started repelling the thoughts about being 25/26/27 yo and experienced an awkwardness when anybody talked or asked me about it. I guess conditioning is deep-rooted in our systems. We're all expected to marry at a certain age/settle in our careers/think about managing a household/know how to cook meals/earn good/think in a certain way, in a certain direction/worry about growing older/changing skin, hair, body, hormones/worry about not finding a partner/worry about not being able to find one/be a part of everything/do all the conventional things, etc. etc. Basically, being fine AF to put up a show anywhere we go. Ugh. Age is not just a number, apparently. A lot of things are involved here.

But, over the same three years, I started focusing more on my own self. One thing at a time. I slowly started discovering the dainty details about my personality and my thought process. Some observations happened accidentally, some were too striking. I observed how I respond to hatred, to mean comments, to love and how I actually feel when I am approached by someone randomly at a cafe. Ah. Do I really want to give them my number? No.

I now know I do not procrastinate everything - only workouts. I know how exactly I crumble inside while listening to/reading humans behaving insensitively with nature and with animals. I grew up a vegetarian because of the home environment, but I questioned, researched, talked to a lot of people only to figure I am a vegetarian by choice because I really feel close to the animals, and eating them is not something I'd ever prefer.

I learned that I am paranoid about locking the car as soon as I get in, but not paranoid about anybody driving rash around me, or even trucks and buses sharing the same road/lane. I was, at one point, but not anymore. I am a confident and skilled driver, but I am scared about somebody randomly opening my car door.

I figured some food allergies and also the fact that panic is not my first reaction in a stressful situation, I am really graceful under pressure. But a closed one saying one negative word would put my heart on a race.

I basically am discovering how I function in life and even how exactly I like my silly lemon soda. 

It's an amusing process. And it's ever so ongoing. I'm seeing it, observing it and acknowledging things as a third person even, at times. It needs watering with good feelings–regularly, it needs building a strong support system–people to fall back on, it needs forgiveness and a heart as light as a box of tissues, and as warm as gooey brownies. It requires you to be gentle with yourself.

I am kinda on the other side of the grass–rather of this garden I've planted, you know. I feel relaxed. I am in sync with myself and I am moving at my own pace. I am not bothered about turning twenty-eight and I won't shy away from talking about it now. I, in fact, feel good to be twenty-eight. Investing in myself has made me confident and crazy. And this awareness of self has brought me more life and less rush. 

In retrospect, I see how well I've evolved. It makes me feel good, and proud, and happy. It makes me feel close to myself. I trust myself with my life more now, I don't freak out much–even if I do, I can calm myself down easily. I deal with people better because I'm at peace with myself.

I never thought I'd think all this or like this in my early twenties. At that time, a single thought of late-twenties used to freak me out. Haha. But here I am and trust me, it's all chill.

It may sound alien or fancy or aspirational or the feelings might just sound basic. But these just sound mine to me. I have me. And I think that is the most beautiful thing ever.

4 a. m.

Some nights remind me of the way I would turn to hold you and you'd be snoring away in peace. And just when I would be loving the pretty sight, you'd wake up like you never were sleeping in the first place.

 

Some nights take me back to the cosy feeling of having you by my side. It would make me miss you, but I rather keep the comfort of your memories closer, than brood over your absence.

Some nights are restless like the fidget after a fight – turning sides and sitting uptight. Lying down again to sleep, but feeling every ounce of the existing havoc. Sometimes, I even hear the rattles in the dreams and wake up aghast. 

Sometimes, there's a cloud hovering right above me, ready to just rip apart and drench me with the thoughts of how I'd survive without you. More of, how you'd survive without me. On some nights, there's rain in the bed, too.

But some nights, there's all of this.

The comfort, the longing.
The tears, the agony.
The love, the memories.
The moments, the pain.
And more. A lot more. 

But sleep's far, far out of sight.

Full Circle

From where we stand, 

To where we end

Cutting off ties one by one

Distancing a bit on every turn

Letting love, not differences dissolve

Making it easy for ourselves to move on 

Coming to a full circle of life, are we?

From where we stand,

From where we begin

Gambling a string of emotions together

Trying to contemplate the way further

Letting a bit of our egos dissolve 

Letting a bit of each other evolve

Coming to a full circle of life, aren't we?