Hyperbolically Yours

About The Blog

There are two reasons as to why this blog was created.

The immediate reason's pretty simple to explain - I absolutely love to write and I used to blog before NEET happened. I've always wanted to be a regular blogger and the lockdown gave me thousands of ideas about content that I can share with people. So my dear friend, welcome to my blog.

Now the long-term reason. This one's weird.

A Reply To घोड़े पे सवार

Wrote alternate lyrics to this beautiful song from the movie Qala.

The original song talks about how a girl's lover is trying different ways to woo her while the girl does not agree to his advances. She wants him to take things slowly and not be in a hurry.

My version is a reply to the original i.e. the lover's pov, and it talks about, uhmmm... mixed signals that the lover receives from the girl

Guys Like Me

Guys like me don’t know what it is like to not think

We will notice that flake of cracked paint stripping down from the wall of your room,
And keep smiling at the beauty of its erratic imperfection,
Eventually zoning out of a conversation and awkwardly asking you what the question was;

The Right Room

My heart has a terrible backache.

***

The room he’s currently checked in has a really creaky bed, with two bolts missing from its front leg. The wood is old and cracked, and flakes of rotten oak chip out from underneath its body.

Unpoetic - A Story About Rejection Sensitivity

(All this was written a couple of weeks back, when my mental health was in a bit of a daze. I am feeling a lot better now, and I have gotten over what I was going through.)

For quite a long time, I have been experiencing something called Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria (RSD). I wasn’t aware of this term until a couple of months back, when I came across a Reddit thread. Before that, I used vague and repetitive descriptions to express what I was going through. It felt nice to know that there is a specific term for my affliction.

मेरा steth

This spoken word piece was recited by me in the Farewell of Batch 2016, on 30 April 2022 -

मेरी लाल बैग की सबसे आगे की चेन खोलोगे

और उसके अंदर अपना हाथ फेरोगे

तो सबसे पहले तुम्हारे हाथ लगेगी

Lalochezia

Lalochezia (noun): the psychological rewarding effect / emotional satisfaction gained from using abuses, swear words and profanity.

Warning: Excessive, uncensored profanity, both in English and Hindi.

***

Hope

Disclaimer:

This article is NOT meant to be a mere exposition of my character traits, or those of anyone I know. I had written this when I was in a state of venting out. While reading, if you think that I’ve written this with a motive of garnering pity, you are reading it the wrong way.

An Overthinker’s Guide on How (Not) to Go to Sleep

So you mean to say that you go to bed and just... sleep?

You don't plot a 13-book epic fantasy series revolving around your life or softly broil in existential dread or replay every single embarrassing mistake you've made until you've cringed a gazillion times before finally closing your eyes not because you want to sleep but because you want to stop reminding yourself of all the awkward moments you've created?

What kind of a human are you?

To All The Words I Wish I’d Said

To all the words I wish I'd said -

I know how badly you wanted to come out

And rain fire on them with the ferocity of a thousand angry goddesses

Tell them what they deserved to hear

Show them the rage that is hidden

Behind the curtains of a harmless person

Excerpts from the Diary of the FBI Agent Who Watches Whatever I Do on the Internet Everyday

FOREWORD : It is a common belief in millennial culture that Internet privacy is a myth, and that our activities on the web are constantly monitored by FBI agents. This is an ode to the FBI agents who sit on their desks everyday, looking at all the stupid, nonsensical and downright filthy things we do on the Internet.

The (Mis)Adventure of a Parle-G Biscuit

He bought me and my biscuit-buddies from the hostel canteen at 8 am in the morning.

He has a pretty simple routine - he always buys a fifteen-rupee glass of warm milk with extra sugar and drinks it with a five-rupee packet of Parle-G. He has a very specific choice when it comes to biscuits and he doesn't prefer anything other than Parle-G and Good Day.

He especially hates those NutriChoice Cracker Cookies. He says they are "oversized square-shaped twats that taste like something I'd eat in case I plan to die by eating a biscuit someday."

I agree with him. Not about his opinion on NutriChoice Cracker Cookies. But about the fact that he is someone who can totally imagine himself dying by eating a biscuit someday.

1. The cool side of the pillow. The first few seconds after I flip over my pillow and touch my cheeks to the cool side are the best moments of domestic bliss a human could have in his entire life.

2. When I realise there are still five minutes left for the next alarm to go off and I put every ounce of dedication into getting the best sleep of my life in those five minutes.

Overloving

I know you'll never know

That I eat the less cheesy slices of pizza

So that you get to eat the cheesier ones

I know you'll never realise

That I don't really like drowning my maggi in ketchup

But I try not to make a funny face

When we eat our noodles drenched in red sauce

Because that is how you like it

The Monologue of My Pinky Toe

So here you are.

I don't know why people get pleasure in listening to stories of tragedy. There are so many other parts of your body that have beautiful and wholesome stories to tell.

For instance, remember the day when your lovely eyes drove a guy crazy and he fell in love with you?

Or the day when he proposed you and your chubby cheeks turned pink out of sheer joy?

Why don't you want to hear all this?

Why do you want to know my painful story?

You sick, sadistic creature.

Elbowlepsy

Elbowlepsy.

It makes you go aahh

It makes you go ouch

It makes your skin crawl

In your tiny elbow pouch

It comes when you're in public

It comes when you're alone

It comes when you're picking your nose

It comes when you're fiddling your phone

That Guy Who Always Steps on the Cracks

DISCLAIMER: Everything written below is merely a projection of my thought process while witnessing certain mundane occurrences in my life, and in no way do I intend to convey that what I think is relatable to every reader, or point out to one person in particular.

I hate him. I hate his guts.

I hate him because I hold him responsible for everything that makes me unsatisfied during the day.

I hate him because he never walks as normal humans are supposed to- stepping on the tiles and not on the cracks between them.

Bubble Wrap Chronicles

In case you didn’t know, this is a bubble wrap.

All of us, at some point in our lives, have enjoyed bursting these tiny bubbles of plastic whenever we used to sit idle.

This is a documentation of my memories with a certain piece of bubble wrap.

Hype Persons are So, So, Sooooo Underrated

To K

K was a friend of mine from school. Well, not a 'friend' friend. More of an acquaintance really. To be precise, we played in the same football team.

We studied in the same class, but we had our own different friend circles and chitchat groups. The only time we were with each other was on the football field every Saturday, where we played for three hours under the sun, me in the front and him in the defending half.