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Attention!

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“I’d like to thank the honorable Chief Guest Arputham, my department HOD Verona, my co-ordinator Jeyaraj, my best friend Deepan, the faculty, and fellow students who spent their valuable time being here!” Pavithra ended the event, which was followed by thundering applause. I was awestruck by her daring act of including my name in the Valedictory speech. Most of them didn’t seem to notice, but her HOD was stunned and confused by her sudden inclusion in their decades-old template. Pavithra winked from the stage and disappeared into the crowd that escorted the chief guest. Pavithra and I’ve been friends for almost three hundred days now, ever since she texted me after reading my blog. She was the first enthusiastic fan outside of my friends for my writing. She genuinely loved all my works and pointed out the few she didn’t. She had invited me to her college for a random workshop on “Girls and how they should be protected.” It was the most backward speech I’ve heard in years. But of co...
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To The Friend, I Lost! ❤

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  To The Friend, I Lost! ❤   It's been a long time since I wrote about my friends. Hmmm! Then why am I talking about this friend today? I thought its never late to talk about people. I would’ve written about him some other day, even if I didn’t today. But, it's late. I lost my friend, my reader. He’s not with me to read this. I knew him in school and we had casual Hi-Bye’s then. During the lockdown time, we got connected through Instagram and got to know each other better. I was writing only about my friends on my blog, back then. I was writing about them, so that other people can know about them. One day, he texted me and told me he wanted me to write about a common friend we both had. I promised him I’ll, but I never did. He said my blog articles are lengthy, but he liked them that way. He wanted to keep reading my blogs. He texted me once, randomly out of the blue, asking when the next blog is dropping. He also said he prefers to read my blogs when he’s bored. I h...
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Another Love Story! ❤️

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I opened my laptop only to discover her voice message and the location she sent. I came out of the DM and checked the people who have seen my story, where I’ve uploaded the link to my new story. And, yes, she has seen the story, finally. I connected my earpods and played the audio she sent. Deepan, do two things for me. I know I have never asked you anything, so I would really love you to do this for me. One, text me ‘Okay!’ once you start hearing this audio. Then, please follow the navigation to the location I’ve sent! My eyes widened. Is she asking me to come meet her? I paused the audio. I’ve known her through the Internet for around six months. She randomly came up after she read my blog. She’s been my reader even before my boom. I’ve always expected her critique about the content I post. We got close. But I never disclosed where I’m from. Neither did she. Why does she want to meet me, all of a sudden? I played it. Ummm. Yeah, I still don’t see you up ready for the pla...
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Depression Diaries #4: The Term 'People Pleasing'

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Ever heard of people-pleasing syndrome? No, I haven’t heard about it too. If at all there is something like that, it’ll be like what am about to explain. First, lemme tell you what people-pleasing is. Altering your opinion or approach about something, so that the person (you want to please) is happy seeing your action. In this process, people tend to opt out of the happiness of pleasing others. Now, this is something we all do. We have different personalities with every people we meet. We have different voices for everyone we have in our life, according to our priority list. We please people to get our job done, or for them to keep giving us jobs, or to simply maintain a good profile with them. But we do have a part of us, who’d do what he/she likes, no matter who’s against it. That’s basically us, treating the personality we love. We do not compromise that personality’s wishes for nobody. I’ve seen nobody compromise with their wishes for the people they love. Or have I? Welcome to...
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Love is Love: The Final Act 🏳️‍🌈

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The Final Act: All Good Things Come To An End   “Yes, am perfectly safe and sound”, Pallavi rejected all our theories. She was not kidnapped by Nikitha’s father nor by anyone else. Her phone died, and that’s why she couldn’t respond to our calls. “I’m in T Nagar TTD. Come fast!”, she sounded excited. I cut the call and looked at Nikitha. She was smiling, probably thinking about their life together. I saw behind, Pallavi’s mother was busy on her phone while Siksha dozed off hugging her guitar bag. I reached TTD in the next 15 minutes. It was closed, obviously. Pallavi ran to me and hugged me. I detached her from me and got ready for some serious conversation. “What did you tell to your mother?”, I asked her. “Deepan, I thought you’ll tell her, it would be easy if…”, she was interrupted by me. “Did you think how heavy it is for me? Then think what it would be to her!”, I shouted at her. Nikitha held her hands. Pallavi started to tear up. “Aunty!”, Nikitha called Palla...
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Love is Love: The Second Act 🏳️‍🌈

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  The Second Act: Love, Action, Drama   Nikitha and another girl got in the car. While Nikitha took the passenger seat, another girl got in the back. The other girl had a guitar bag with her. Both of them were late already, and I was fed up waiting for them. “Hello, Deepan! Pallavi has told me plenty about you! I’ve seen your recent ad on Nescafe too. You’re excellent!”, Nikitha told, looking at me. She was trying to be cheerful. I chose to be rude. “Who’s she?”, I acted slightly irritated while pointing at the girl behind, even though I was filled up with anger. While Nikitha was trying to process my rude remark, the other girl introduced herself. Meh. “Hellooooo! Am Siksha. Siksha! Am a close friend of Nikitha and Pallavi, and I’m the first person to know about their relationship. Yeah, even before they both knew about it. I told them ages back that there’s something! And guess what! I was a hundred percent right!”, she answered my 1-mark question like it was a 16-...
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Love is Love: The First Act 🏳️‍🌈

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The First Act: Here We Go!   “What? What does that mean?”, I’ve never heard that before. “Which means… Ummm… I…. Google, no”, she felt hard to tell it. “So, you are telling me you are Business Intelligent?”, I asked her after searching ‘bi’ on the Internet. I thought it was some degree she was going to do along with her course. I didn’t see the bomb in front of it. Little did I know she was special from others, but yeah. She confirmed it that day. “I’m Bisexual, Deepan. It means I can like both men and women”, she told it and let off a big sigh. She seemed relieved. “Isn’t that trans? Are you a third gender?”, I blurted out. She didn’t like me asking that. “You’ve gone to Australia, right?”, she asked me patiently. I thought about the Louis Phillippe advertisement I did there. I nodded my head. “Remember you told you saw two girls kissing in your set? You even mentioned it was hot”, she was telling out everything. I looked around. Even though there wasn’t anyone in th...
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Need a Drink?

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  “Finally, your house”, I pointed. Isha looked at me. “Yeah, so here we end up your birthday celebrations”, she told, with genuine happiness. She extended her arms to hug me. I smiled and hugged her back. “So, straight to sleep or you’re going to text with your sweety ah?”, I laughed. “Shut up, he’ll be drunk. It’s ‘Even’ Saturday, right?”, she looked into her phone. “Ahhh, 19 years of my life. Wish I get to drink too”, I looked at myself in the car's rearview mirror. I looked grown enough with the unshaven beard. “You haven’t touched alcohol?”, she looked shocked. Well, I was shocked too. “You’ve drunk? Did he make you drink? Was it even your decision?”, my eyes widened. She never told me before. “Stop blaming him for everything. Why I shouldn’t drink myself ah? Why men are like this!”, she grunted. I hung my head low. “Sorry! Don’t hate me on my birthday!”, I kept my eyes as soft as possible. “Forget it. Let’s drink?”, her eyes widened, in excitement. She tol...
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Depression Diaries #3: Everything is F-word'ed up!

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  I never wanted to continue this series. Screw that, this was not even a series when I wrote the first article. I was just venting out and thought of writing down all my rant. If you notice keenly, these articles come out only once a year. Every year, I run out of people in my life and live through a period of life where I’ll have to survive alone. The worst part is, life plans all the freaking bad things during this period, exclusively. So, you won’t even have a person to tell all this about. I’m really happy people are still reading my blog. Every time I write this, I feel I’m doing injustice to my readers because there’s really nothing you could get from this. Or, you can get bored. This blog might have the worst flow, or worse, no flow at all, but it’s just me speaking. So, it’ll be not perfect. I’ve been into this lonely place suddenly, without my friends or family to hear me out. I’ve always had this one life goal, college at Loyola. This has been it, since centuries ago...
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The Loyola Phase Begins! ❤️

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  The Loyola Phase Begins!  ❤️   8:10. Still 8kms away from the college. Our vehicle broke down. First day of offline college. Can't think of a better combination, right? College starts at 8:20, and I thought I would reach by 8:40. Usually, the hero’s entry comes after big anticipation and buildup, right? Yeah, I could sense all your ‘sighs’ and I could also see people trying to exit this article. Wait, here comes the funny part. I missed the whole first period. That Risky Selfie before Church. Loyola College is something I’ve dreamt of, ever since I knew I had to do a degree after high school. I had vibrations through my shoes while entering the college. I made it to my block and entered the preview theatre, where the orientation was happening. A boy who’s late for his first class, that’s how my classmates saw me. Seriously, that didn’t go the way I wanted. Karen singing "Visiri", and Varun beatboxing while Santhosh introduced us what Street Side HipHop was, I ...
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Dear Appa! 💓

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  Dear Appa!  💓  Last year, it was his 49 th birthday. I had started to think of his gift, three months before. I thought of gifting a short film. I wrote the script, rehearsed with the actors well, but somehow, it didn’t happen. I felt so bad for gifting him nothing. I wish I could be my sister sometimes. Last year’s Oct 5 came under that ‘sometimes’. She painted around a betel leaf on an A4 sheet and gifted him. Why couldn’t I be simple? Why couldn’t I gift him something, which was common for my age? I always wanted to surprise him, with different approaches and perspectives. I wouldn’t say all of them are failures. But, failures were most of ‘em. I had always ended up complicating things for him. I would feel bad for my surprise ending badly. But all I could do is, experiment more. This letter to him is an experiment. I have written articles for others, but for Appa, it's different, right?
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Attention!

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“I’d like to thank the honorable Chief Guest Arputham, my department HOD Verona, my co-ordinator Jeyaraj, my best friend Deepan, the faculty, and fellow students who spent their valuable time being here!” Pavithra ended the event, which was followed by thundering applause. I was awestruck by her daring act of including my name in the Valedictory speech. Most of them didn’t seem to notice, but her HOD was stunned and confused by her sudden inclusion in their decades-old template. Pavithra winked from the stage and disappeared into the crowd that escorted the chief guest. Pavithra and I’ve been friends for almost three hundred days now, ever since she texted me after reading my blog. She was the first enthusiastic fan outside of my friends for my writing. She genuinely loved all my works and pointed out the few she didn’t. She had invited me to her college for a random workshop on “Girls and how they should be protected.” It was the most backward speech I’ve heard in years. But of co...
Read more