Chasm.

He understood loneliness.
The way it ate up his insides.
The way it gnawed away at everything in his mind and heart.
He knew the great, black, gaping, yawning chasm.
The open mouthed cave of dense darkness that swallowed him up every now and then.
He drifted with it, knowing there's no escape.
Smiled a little, accepting that this was who he was.
This was a part of him.
The nagging, throbbing pain in his heart.
He shook his head, laughed a bit. He knew his heart couldn't hurt, but it felt like it did. It could. It was.
He lifted his head, gazed out at the deep, dark water in front of him.
Still.
Calm.
Dark.
The way he was, inside.
The cold numbness that drowned out any warmth. All light.

All night.

Smaller.

Grade 1 to Grade 10 (I was scared of ammi).

Mama: Paper kaisa hua?

Maryam: Um. Acha?

Mama: Acha ke boht acha?

Maryam: ... Boht acha?

Mama: Kitne percent?

Maryam: BYEMOMGOTTAGO.

Intermediate to Bachelors (I decided to try honesty and see if my parents still loved me after).

Mama: Exam kaisa kar ke ai?

Maryam: Acha nai hua.

Mama: KYUN NAI? KAHA THA NA PARH LO? KHYAAL NAI HAI? BUS KAR DO APNI BOOKS PARHNA DOSRI WALI AUR COLLEGE KI PARHAI PE DEHAAN DO!

Maryam: Jee. Acha, jee.

*mama prays and prays and prays for her daughter's stupidity and loser-ish characteristics to transform into genius and brilliance*

So obviously, being honest wasn't exactly a good option after that scene.

University - M.S.

Mama: Paper kaisa hua?

Maryam: Yar ammi, aap ne phir tension le leni hain kyun puchti hain?

Mama: Matlab acha nai hua.

Maryam: Ab meine ye be nai kaha.

Mama: To phir acha hua?

Maryam: AMMI. What does it matter? I'll just tell you acha hua because obviously mein to acha he kar ke ati hun apni taraf se, agay ab teachers janay.

*silence*

Mama: Dekha. Mujhe pata tha nai acha hua. Kyun join kia Photography Club? Kya zarurat pari thi NAGS mein janay ki? Degree zyada zaruri thi ki tasweerein lena?

Maryam: ... yaar.

Pastes and Color.

*Disclaimer: We're all racists.*

Me: I'M BROWN.

Brother: NO. I'M brown. You're...

Me: BROWN?

Brother: Nai na. You're...

Brother: You're creamy!

Sid: HAN, creamy. Tum creamy si ho.

Me: Vut? You crazy, I would KILL to have a creamy complexion! I'm not at all creamy.

Sid: You are! You're totally creamy with a hint of chocolate.

Me: You're calling me kaali. Politely. You think I'm black.

Sid: No. If I wanted to call you kaali, I'd have said you look like Hershey's syrup.

Me: ...

Sid: Yes, like I'm banana paste with lots of milk.

Brother: Yes.

Me: You're oriental.

Sid: YAYYYY, I'M ORIENTAL.

Me: You're like... Asian!

Brother: I hate Asians.

Me: I know.

Poof.

Games are a matter of life and death for me.
I can't play without thinking that I HAVE TO WIN YES I ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO I MUST.
I break out in a sweat, my heart lodges in my throat trying to pound its way out, my hands shake, my eyes stretch wide, my breathing accelerates and... You understand.

I'm a freak I KNOW but yar. Being pathetic is an art. You can quote me. And also slap me. Because right now I'm talking stupid.

BUT.

Games. I love games. More the arcade, time management and strategy type. From the Dash games (Cooking. Diner, Wedding Dash) to Barbie to NFS (<3 x infinity) to VCop 2. Haha. Bachon wali choice, yes but I love these games. These are just the bare minimum off the top of my head. I snap at anyone who interrupts and am a very sore loser. Not that I sulk or throw tantrums but I'll be irritated/ frustrated till I can get it right.

Annoying na? I annoy myself too.

Koi baat nai. Procrastination FTW.

What Bollocks.

I will never understand why the ruder you get, the more guys like you.
I'm not generalizing it to the whole gender, but generally this is what I've experienced.
Jitna impatience aur bitchy attitude dekhao, utna peechay atay hain.

WHY? =/