meloncholicmoons

[meloncholicmoons]

About Tea

If you know how to make tea, you’ll know that there is just one rule you’ve got to keep on your mind. The one where your milk and water have to be in equal proportions and your tea leaves have to be equivalent to the number of cups you’re making. For example, 1 teaspoon tea leaves for 1 cup of tea. So on and so forth. And, if you’re feeling fancy, you could grate some ginger and add some spices to it. It’s that easy.

And yet, every time that my grandfather made tea, he would always screw it up. The chai would be served at room temperature, or below, with the cream floating on the top. The tea would always be on the watery side and the caffeine from it would never really hit. I don’t know what purpose that tea was supposed to serve but one thing was for certain, no matter what hour of the day it would be, you could count on him for bringing you some of it. You see, the man woke up at 5.30 am every day, without an alarm. 

I think of many people when I make tea, usually my parents, keeping in mind the way they like it. Sometimes, I think of my old flame who doesn’t talk to me anymore. I wonder if my tea making skills were so bad that he got pushed away from me. But I brush away those thoughts, 9 out of 10 times, my chai is great. So that really couldn’t be the case. But today, I think about my grandfather, whom I fondly call nanu, the man who taught me how to make tea and probably loved me the most. 

[meloncholicmoons]

tea // 🫖

pop, you heard the sound of the flame turn on. a little later, the metal rebelled against the high flame when the milk made love to the spiced decoction within. and while you filtered out this marvellous creation into a cup, your soul moaned a little in delight.

[meloncholicmoons]

solace in the city //

just when my heart was aching for a vacation to the hills, my friends and i decided to visit Shilpagram. nestled in the quaint lanes of Poonam Nagar, Jogeshwari East, i found a cozy nook in the city away from the hubbub of work and traffic.

Shilpagram was completed in 2018 as an arts and crafts village and represents the theme of the traditional trades of Maharashtrian villages like - barbers, washers and carpenters.

the property has a children’s play area, an amphitheatre and some gorgeous architecture. At 6.45 pm they also doll up the fountain area for a light & sound show - we missed the show because of our time crunch :/

Shilpagram is a great place to unwind amidst nature. probably with a book or over some lovely conversation. the entry fee is 25 rupees with countless eateries lined up in the area for a quick chaat or even some delicious baked goods, in case you’re planning where to head next.

[meloncholicmoons]

Banganga Tank //

as legend goes, the banganga tank sprang forth when lord rama was on his journey to find his beloved wife sita. when he asked his brother lakshman to fetch some water, lakshman shot an arrow to the ground and water gushed out. the locals believed it to be a tributary of the ganges and named it Banganga - the ganga created by a baan (arrow). as per history, the tank was created by the Silhara dynasty as a water storage facility in the 12th century by an architect named Lakshman Prabhu. (coincidence?) however, it was demolished with the Portuguese invasions and rebuilt in the 18th century along with the adjacent Walkeshwar temple.

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at present, this tank is quite an interesting spot. it is brimming with life - both with the fish that swim within the pond and outside- in the amphitheater like setting where you will find couples and friends sit on the steps and catch up on life as they feed the fish while some kids play galli cricket too. these kids rely on their friends rowing in the pond to fetch their rubber balls every time they fail to catch it on land. situated in Malabar Hill, devotees and small shops of flowers and incense sticks line its perimeter. although otherwise quite mucky, the banganga tank is dolled up annually for a 2 day music festival every January. what stayed back with me after this trip is how in the twenty years of my life in Mumbai, i had never been here or heard of this place. and now, i’d love to learn more about my city and share its beauty & little secrets with countless others.

[meloncholicmoons]

the flu //

before i tell you all my symptoms

and before you chalk out a diagnosis

i think you should know,

it started in my brain.

i mean, i’ve been well all this time

but i got vulnerable

vulnerable to my emotions

pardon me if this sounds romanticised.

i’ve been having trouble sleeping

a little feverish

as the winter crept in last night.

maybe i needed the hoodie after our fight.

there’s an ache in my throat

for every time my emotions leave me choked.

that’s not it,

a cough as bitter as my anxiety

and a phlegm really runny and white

i guess, it likes to run from tricky situations too.

oh, i see you’ve prescribed some antibiotics & aspirin

sure doctor, i’ll also load up on my vitamins

and as a team, let’s flush this ailment out of my system.

[meloncholicmoons]

inner conflict //

she wants to passionately express her love to him,

the beast within her nudges her.

primal instincts,

his beast bows in reciprocity

but a monster holds her down

she settles for just a glance

she’ll quench her desires while she’s in a trance.

the beast within her wants to howl & scream,

anger rushes within her veins and fuels her fury

but the monster inside muffles any sounds,

her raging fire gets doused by her own tears.

every step she retraces,

she really just wants to delve in closer to the cave

where love, hope, lust and other dangerous creatures hunt their prey

but deep down, the beast hopes one of them comes out & attacks her anyway.

[meloncholicmoons]

Walk // 
you don’t have to walk like you’re the same person. in your head, you could be 5, 15 or 50. and the city around you, it could be Paris or Tokyo. you could be on your way to a park to read a book and catch the sunset, you could be on your way to a movie date with your man, with a soft blush on your face. heck, you could be at a gateway between your world and a place of fantasies with nymphs and dragons awaiting your return since forever. it’s your walk and it doesn’t always have to be the same.

[meloncholicmoons]

therapy //

i’m hearing you out and i empathise,

but i can’t word out what i want to say.

you’re having a hard time and it’s going to be while,

before it goes away.

so, here’s a playlist with selected songs.

they felt right when the pain around felt wrong

and when i felt numb,

these were the tunes i would hum.

twirl and fall,

relivé on your toes to feel tall.

maybe just strike an absurd pose,

as the music gently flows

listen to the lyrics with your eyes shut,

let your soul tell you where it’s hurt

so that you can heal

and set yourself free.

[meloncholicmoons]

before sunrise //

this story is about an impulsive detour to Vienna

there was this dashing american guy - Jesse

and a gorgeous dame from Paris, named Celine

complete strangers or maybe trusty travel buddies?

their trip was a day long

but the moments - enchanting

almost magical and yet, so real

they were bound by time and yet boundless

an intimate moment in a music booth

to when there lips first met by a ferris wheel

it’s like they were on a loot

only to discover what they truly feel

was it the Daydream Delusion penned by a desperate poet by the pavement,

or was it the words the gypsy palm reader gracefully walked out with

that sealed their bond,

that brought them back again,

years later, to chase a sunset.

[meloncholicmoons]

Drafts //

like a browser with countless open windows,

my mind welcomes you.

it’s a chaotic little place,

in a tiny corner, you’ll find some peace and harmony

it lives and breathes alongside the constant cacophony

clutter

you might want to shut a few of these tabs

but this is the only way my mind functions

the disturbances, the commotion inside inspires me

to quiet it down.

and, in doing so

drafts complete themselves,

questions find their answers,

unfinished sentences make a home inside comprehensive paragraphs

and thoughts transpire to ideas.

[meloncholicmoons]

onions //

onions

in their true glory

with the skin

without the skin

or even finely chopped

have a signature aroma that will always hit your nose

and god knows

make you cringe like i do, too

onion peels are endless

just like the layers of the toxic person in your life

they form pools of tears beneath your eyes

when the sulphur within them reacts with the atmosphere

onions suck

and so do you

you suck because you give up on yourself

you suck because you get complacent after every self love post you see on instagram

“accepting yourself as you are” , never meant you pause everything you’re trying to get a good hand at.

you make fun of people and call them potatoes

for whatever reason your mind finds easy

but here’s the thing

potatoes never made people cry

they taste good boiled, mashed and even fried

so comfort yourself all you want

you could even caramelise

but i’m just here to make you realize

you could be the person who makes you cry

or you can start from scratch and improvise.

[meloncholicmoons]

thoughts at my desk //

tell me, how you like to study,

do you make notes or you rely solely on your memory?

and while you zone out,

who comes to your rescue - is it tea or coffee?

do you sometimes just mute the class and listen to some melodies,

is it your earphones or airpods that break the monotony?

[meloncholicmoons]

text me //

text me? okay, actually never mind

just reply to what i’m saying.

send in an audio maybe ?

it’s been a while since i heard your voice.

you know what, fuck it

i know you’re busy.

i’ll feel a little upset but i know you can’t keep replying to me all day.

btwww, the skies were crazy today

it had the grey tones of monsoons but the sunset was really sexy

i would’ve sent pics had my hands not been so full :/

did you get a chance to see ‘em?

i think i’ll just delete these texts.

they’re not that important anyway.

i’ll guess, i’ll call you when i just can’t bear this quarantine separation;

with some crazy stories.

oh and, i hope you’re well?

i’m always there to talk to

probably the last name on your mind

but still, yeah i’m around.

[meloncholicmoons]

nightly thoughts //

it’s that time of the night when my mind is running free,

to lush green hills, probably clad in a saree. as soon as my head touches the soft pillow cover and i’m snuggled in the comfort of my blanket, the projector inside begins it’s magic.

your voice is clearly audible and the tone of every monosyllabic text message turns into live action here. you’re now saying them to me, in person while you look fancy wearing a black turtle neck sweater and some classic black slacks.

the blush on my cheeks from being around you, listening to the things you say and the funny faces you make dissolves into tiny giggles.

as I adjust myself in reality to a more comfortable crevice on the pillow, I notice that its comfort isn’t even a fraction of what l get from your hugs.

you know, those tight, long ones where l don’t say anything & yet you understand everything, the ones where silence is comfortable and just watching the black sky as the stars come out to adorn it is what matters the most.

it’s these hugs, coupled with, i don’t know, that plain, neutral smell emanating from your clothes, is what I miss the most.

while i keep wondering what that smell from your clothes is, i get up. I pass by the hallway in the night where see there are freshly washed clothes hanging to dry and suddenly my olfactory senses find a resonance. as i smile and head back to bed, a thought surfaces in my head - its weird how you were once a stranger and yet so familiar all along.

[meloncholicmoons]

Hungry

life feels incomplete,

like it’s a delicious broth devoid of the salt,

the love around me isn’t nearly enough,

not when you’re so far away.

 

right now, life’s like an overflowing plate of work and responsibilities,

sparing a side of fake smiles and promises.

and, while I once had a pillar to prop me up.

I now resign to wallow in my sorrow and slump.

 

The seat across the table lies empty,

where you once sat after serving me,

Patiently hearing out every misery,

Shouting and cheering me to victory. 

 

no matter how hard I try,

the food I cook just turns to bland morsels as it touch es the palette.

I recall how you passionately described the process behind every dish,

as I drowned in its flavour and it vanished before my eyes.

 

somewhere, I’m holding on to a hope.

even though it’s probably pretty senseless,

that if I force feed myself,

and finish every tasteless morsel on my plate,

you’ll come back to that empty chair across the table and flash that gorgeous grin for me again.

[meloncholicmoons]

things I was thinking while framing this - how did they shoot the entire bus sequence in Gully Boy with such good symmetry? ft. Golden sunlight #justimagine #orangeandteal #urbanromantix #safar #mumbaimerijaan #lightroom #snapseed #peopleinasquare #agameoftones (at D.N. Nagar) https://www.instagram.com/p/BuNhGaHnFrw/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=138atv0s1zb64

[meloncholicmoons]

The Lower Self

Every day, 'It' puts on a new face

And yet, it continues to punch me in the same place.

I walk around like nothing's wrong,

But there's scars all over me, like my body sings a painful song.

Nothing ever loved me so much,

It never lost contact with me, continued to remain in touch.

It always brought my problems into the light,

With it around too, darkness enveloped me every night.

No matter how much I begged 'it 'to leave me, it didn't.

With it around, loneliness crept in.

Maybe I was alone, actually,

I guess the amber liquid ensured I never noticed.

But now that the liquid hasn't been around for a while,

I seem to function fine,

It does seldom bother me

Though, not with the same intensity.

I finally decided to connect with it,

Served it some tea, asked it to sit.

We had a conversation, it and I,

Whilst I grew stronger, it had become shy.

It had finally somehow learnt to shut up,

It shivered while trying to gulp tea from the cup,

This time, I was on the winning side of the game,

The point at which I said check mate.

And then I realized, I was alone in the room.

This it we're talking about isn't some alien from the moon.

It is my low self esteem that lingered like a shadow quietly,

Constantly reminding me of my liabilities.

As I look you in the eye right now, I'm a changed man,

I've shrugged off my all my inhibitions into the trash can.

So while I could get weaker again,

It cannot attack me like before, I know that it is something only I can tame.

(Amber liquid refers to alcohol)