After much ado about life, love and all the fine lines in between and some months spent in silent solitude, I'm partially surfacing or at least trying to surface to face the fake roadshow of reality for the umpteenth time.
2011 was beautiful, with a morbid appeal that I initially found repulsive and later appealing. Change is a funny yet inevitable thing, a fact of life that I can only pray that I'll learn to warm up to, but the campaign so far has been vastly unsuccessful and the past few months have only reinforced this sad little fact.
The blissfully fake sense of security that I experienced through the late months of 2010 were snappily cut short, and everything that could technically go wrong, did. But the transition has been a revealing one, and I can only be happy that my eyes are finally open to what my true priorities in life are.
So what now? Where to?
Honestly, I don't know. I didn't know what I wanted to do next till my college days were over, and the decision to start-up with a good friend of mine is one that I still rate as the gutsiest (thankfully) decision I've taken in my life.
My instincts are my chaddi buddies now.
They've led me from Radiohead, depression and dull mornings to laughter, letters and lighter times.
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