Dear Diary,

Monday

Each one’s parameters of pain are defined by the amount of trouble one has to endure. It it easier for someone who has lived all his or her life in heaven to call the earth, hell for the contrasting comfort levels one finds here. Depression does not mean having a weak heart and seeking help is not an attack on one’s pride. Bravery does not necessarily mean living-trouble free; it means, keeping your balance when your boat is rocking in a storm, and placing your trust in the hand that is extended to grab yours in the hour of need.

Tuesday

Freedom fighters are not only the ones who are good at fencing and crowd-raising. With or without arm power, there is a fighter within every individual; whether they fight for freedom is another matter. Rulers will come and go. Yet, the essentials of freedom may remain the same. Too often we have been too complacent to go without a voice in many occasions. We have been satisfied with the role of spectators when we ought to have been the front-row actors. No wonder, the world is changing and the people are complaining that it was not the change they wanted.

Wednesday

I will sit with you on a rainy evening over a hot chocolate, and listen with enthusiasm to the list of girls who turned you down. I will let you talk about them at the usual ranting speed with the words that need a lot of censoring. You will eventually slow down to breathe and look with an unspoken apology. I will try to make you realize that, no girl is obliged to say yes to your proposals just because you have the looks, brains and the dough. Every girl has a right to say ‘No’ without giving reasons, and expects that ‘No’ to be counted likewise. You will call me a feminist and walk away into the setting sun only to call me later to say sorry for behaving like kid-why similes? - you are a kid!

  

Thursday

Forgetfulness is a blessing in disguise. Whatever the experts say, I can’t imagine how to live in a world where everyone remembers everyone’s cruelties and their life’s mission is to take revenge. All hail those who forget!

Friday

My story has you in its diction. There are corridors filled with your presence and a wardrobe that has locked your perfume in. There is your half-finished coffee cup by the bedside and the papers exactly how you left. There is a story without an ending; a climax with its hero missing. Memories hurt less when they are written.

Saturday

I sniff fakeness when I confront it. Don’t say you care, when your definition of care is talking behind my back. Don’t smile when you are a back-stabber and don’t ask me questions I am not obliged to answer. I do not need to be fake to be popular. Hypocrisy may be your way of life, but not mine!

Sunday

Yellow rice, seeni sambol and papadam will make you feel glad to be alive. To complete the scene, a mug of vanilla ice-cream sprinkled with milo! Take me to paradise,  I will still come home in time to have my lunch!