Remember how engineering holidays used to be like? “2 weeks of holidays man, where are you going? Internship mila kya?”☺ Well now that holiday is not of 2 weeks. We’re done with BE.😌
Some of the people I know are already working (because, Joining aa gaya). They are probably complaining about taxes (I guess they also participated in the GST Jagraata😌). On the other hand we, the jobless folks (not generalizing) are laughing on stupid GST full forms like “Ghanta Samjhoge Tum” and good GST puns (Arun Jaitley-GST friends? No? Ok.) You know a pun is good when you feel like acquainting the creator’s face with bricks from the bottom of your heart and then you smile.😌

This is going to be us in few days or months or years. All of us. We’re grown-ups.😞 I know all of us say this atleast once in our teenage years when we don’t know shit about being one. Here we are now.πŸ’

We see posts about “Feel old?” and well now, I do. A month ago I saw “Sachin: A Billion Dreams” and I couldn’t help but ponder over the fact that we won the World Cup 6 years ago or that Sachin retired 4 years ago i.e. bahut time ho gaya yaar.πŸ™„ Harry Potter turned 20 this week! Let me take a moment to say that I absolutely love these books. They are inexplicably generous when it comes to arousing tears (GOT doesn’t do shit in that department inspite of so many deaths). Although the last movies destroyed the Deathly Hallows, dukh hota hai.πŸ˜”

All of this translates to the fact that we’re all set to undergo the transition from carefree dependent “adults” (because, voting rights mil gaya) to klutzy, under-prepared (story of my life) and presumably independent adults.

It’s petrifying. And not just for the unplaced, not pursuing MS-M.Tech-MBA, not-even-inclined-towards-any-of-these-because-my-academic-life-has-gone-down-the-drain adults. It’s the same and yet different for everybody. It’s a new chapter of life, the one which makes the book worthwhile.

But is it really bad to be terrified? Because, children are carefree and parents are critical and we are none of these. Maybe, we’re actually doing it right. Maybe there is no right in this. Maybe we’re about to find definitions. 

We’re definitely adulting.
P.S. Coldplay is love.

Oh, I think I’ve landed
In a world I hadn’t seen
When I’m feeling ordinary
When I don’t know what I mean

Oh, I think I’ve landed
Where there are miracles at work
For the thirst and for the hunger
Come the conference of birds

And say it’s true
It’s not what it seems
Leave your broken windows open
And in the light just streams

And you get a head
A head full of dreams
You can see the change you want to
Be what you want to be…

Thanks for reading.😊

Malvika Mishra☺


A replacement got replaced.

Your words get entwined in my words; the present and the utterance of those words are separated by a finite number of days I fail to forget. Do my words get entwined in yours too?

Your stories are my stories now; they escape my mouth like a shooting star escapes sight; I’m caught unawares inspite of being aware. Do you remember my stories?

There were only these two questions whose answers I searched like Santiago searched for his treasure. Searching turned into beseeching.  And then, just like that, I gave up on the search. I knew there were no questions; no answers.

I knew that the axe of replacement had dropped on me while I was lost in my siege. I knew that “Everyone is replaceable” is true; not according to me but for someone out there, it is true. My words, my stories, my thoughts, my laughter, my idiosyncrasies, found a replacement in your magnificent world.

And maybe this makes me happy. Maybe it is so because we just took a wrong turn. Maybe in this wrong turn we found few sonnets to sing as we tread on the right path. Maybe that’s what it was supposed to be, always.
Thanks for reading πŸ™‚

Malvika Mishra

Clinging, Again and Again

Cling: Adherence, adhesion, attachment… devotion.

Clinging to an idea… an idea of a “should have”, a “could have”.

Clinging to memories… memories which have turned into wistful smiles.

Clinging to dates… the dates which will never be forgotten.

Clinging to anecdotes… the anecdotes which were built on the grounds of exuberance.

Clinging to secrets… secrets which cut deeper than some wounds.

Clinging to reveries… the reveries which are nothing but plundered and defunct air castles.

Clinging to hope… the hope which is slipping away like the grains of sand.

Clinging to a journey… the journey which is voided by an absence.

Clinging to a story’s predictable termination… which can never ever be rewritten.

Clinging to closure… a closure which failed to dawn inspite of relentless efforts.

Clinging to love and the few grains of hope.

Clinging to a smile… that smile which can “make the whole world stop and stand for a while.”

Clinging to a voice… the voice which brings repose.

Clinging to kindness… the kindness which incites ardent admiration.

Clinging to perfection… the flawed perfection that is someone’s existence.

Clinging to the resonance… again and again.
Thanks for reading.☺

Malvika Mishra.

Bye Bye 2016. I loved you.

2016, you end today. Come December, Facebook and Instagram and Snapchat and (you get it) ushered in a deluge of “F*ck you 2016” posts. Everybody had one or the other reason to abuse you; political debacles (Brexit and the POTUS and Brazil and…), terrorism, climatic imbalance (nothing new), demonetization (Yo India and… “Sonam Gupta bewafa hai”), celebrity deaths (Harambe and other prominent loveable personalities) and several other reasons. You got abused to the point that you were very conveniently labeled as “The Worst Year”.

What I want to say is, 2016, you were one of the worst years of my 21.28 year-old life; and this has nothing to do with the above reasons (although terrorism and racism invokes anger and pity and I’ll fly to the USA in August and death hurts, the most). I have my own reasons for assigning you with this superlative title. I remember you for each day, each week, each month; I’ll remember you for everything you threw in my direction which rattled me completely; how you trampled all those butterflies. Oh 2016, each part of you was an outlandish combination of euphoria and dysphoria; and you made me endure it repeatedly till I finally stopped succumbing to it.

January introduced me to denial. On denial’s insistence, every insecurity raised it’s ugly head. I was torn between looking happy and feeling happy; I failed at both.

February taught me to practice unwarranted persistence. Self-confidence perished as ego mingled with denial. I tried again and again and again, where I shouldn’t have; not even once. And one day, suddenly, I broke down. I thought it was the end.

March taught me that denial hurts but acceptance breaks. But it is right, always.

April taught me that one piece of mis-communication can usher in a lot of bitterness. Bitterness can be cleared; but it leaves a taste in your mouth and thus this only unmarked month of 2016 entered this list.

May taught me that it is very easy to fall back into the same ditch just because it’s comfortable. Sometimes, unfortunately, it is easy to have that same discussion over and over and not just let it go.

June taught me that opening up and speaking up about what hurt you is much more taxing than it seems.

July was a strong reminder that I’m malcontent. And I’m not happy about it. :/

August taught me that even if your intentions are right and you genuinely care, don’t shower your love where it’s not required or not asked for. In August, I got trapped between what was right and what felt right; I made the former choice; I felt horrible about it in spite of it being the correct one.

September, big month. September taught me that efforts can fail; and that sucks. It was that month where a single wrong interpretation from a person completely ruined the happiest day of my year.

October taught me that sometimes, you should hold your head high; it is very important. But even this is easier said than done; and I knocked myself down again.

November taught me how agonisingly strong my envious side is; and facing it contorted the good things I saw in myself.

In December, I realized that coming to terms with the fact that I’ve been trying to come to terms with the same thing for a year is both hilarious and pitiful; did I even try at all? Was it all trash? Will I have to start over again?


I said at the start of this rant that 2016 is “one of the worst years” and not “the worst year”. I’ll tell you why:

Few of my friendships grew stronger in December. Oh December! How much I love and hate you! Because I remember you from 2015, vividly, each and every detail is etched in this brain; for years to come. In December I took that last step (maybe) of that one conversation which normalizes everything (again maybe); in reciprocity of that other step.

November was just vivas and preparatory leave and 1st exam. But it was also the first ever Coldplay concert in Mumbai, which I couldn’t attend.πŸ’” It was the month when I met Newt Scamander and it felt as if everything was finally coming together (The Harry Potter Universe  yet again proved that it is my haven❀).

October was marked by the formation and development of new friendships (based on sarcastic insults). In October for the first time I took some time off of what had been harrowing me for what felt like ages. There were very important birthdays in this month (every birthday is important but what if you have 3 in a month!)

My birthday falls in September. And my 21st was beautiful because I know beautiful people. In this month, I realized that my failure can weaken me only as much as I let it.

In August, I met the me who can work hard. The me who laughs and mocks and is sarcastic. The me who loves taking efforts to look beautiful. The me who can be happy in spite of everything.

In July, I realized that how gravitation is not just about us and dear Earth; it works between people. I anticipated someone’s return, it happened, I was happy; this was a shortlived one.

In June, I met the me who argues, argues a lot. And then there were finally some revelations and atleast a shimmer of happiness. In June I was blessed with the ability to drive my first car. The pride in my parent’s eyes is what I live for.

In May, for the first time I expressed what I actually felt, unabashedly, and it felt great. The exams were also good. (Engineering me hu.)

In April, I met the me who can let go. I realized that erasing all misunderstandings with a person in 1 hour flat is easier if they are your best friend. But it is difficult if your head gets stuck on to something.

March… in March there was Holi. (This was your worst one 2016)

In February, I met the hopeful me; she was very chirpy and never stopped trying. I also learnt the importance of being able to enjoy certain things alone because you cannot always have someone and that’s good too. I learnt that my best friend’s birthday is a festival which can pull me out of any ditch.

In January I met the me who’s the happiest after screaming her lungs out and laughing out loud over her own behaviour.(Courtesy: the camels, Raja and Michael). The me who cracks up on horror stories. The me who loves singing throughout the bus rides in spite of her voice. The me who loves walking with few new friends on a dark starlit path. Scaring the daylights out of one of them is my favorite story, always will be.

You see 2016, I loved you, a little. I know you’ll say every year has it’s ups and downs, but not every single day man! (You were a leap year!)

Few important discoveries:

1. I should stay away from WhatsApp when I’m extremely happy or sad (Euphoria-Dysphoria). Because I don’t know what I’m uttering in that state; it’s not the calculated, sensible me. It is the me whom I don’t present in front of people who are not me.

2. I’m funny. This is one thing I never accepted because well, I do not have a reputation for that. I’m the sarcastic kind, my favourite.😌

3. Watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S averts my tears for a very long time. Likewise for Coldplay songs (but not “Yellow”).

4. I’ll do anything to make things right. Sometimes that’s irritating to people around me (actually always!), but this is one of my many good qualities.😌

5. I write extremely long, beautiful captions (and hashtags). That could be my job in an alternative world.

6. I come up with a lot of names and songs and, basically anything meant for mocking people.

Few disappointments:

1. I read about 50 pages without registering a single word of all of the 3 books I opened in this calender year (Woah 2016!) I bought many thinking they’ll work but… Sorry my stack of books from 2015 and Jan 2016, Sorry.πŸ˜”

2. I completed only one show when I have 4 and I thought watching them would help. Sorry, eclectic combinations of stories and artists.

3. I sketched only once, never in class, this is so not me.

4. I didn’t sing enough. Oh how much I love singing! But, I just couldn’t.

5. I cursed love stories; all of them. (Sometimes Arijit SinghπŸ˜”)(Too much abusive language sends me on a guilt trip)

6. I apologised at several occasions when I was not at fault. I apologise to myself for that now; Sorry me.


1. I’m not very proud of the fact that I think (a lot) before doing anything and I’m skeptical and cautious; which is just me and that’s perfectly fine. (Sorry me again… I’m not a “Jo hoga dekha jaega” person, that was a scam.πŸ™)

2. I didn’t value inner peace and stability and they fled the accident scene like… (Come back now already! Enough of this wandering.πŸ˜‘)
2016, I loved you as much as you loved me; nothing more, nothing less. (Kahi toh equity ho zindagi me)

2017, I’ll love you with all my heart. We’ll shimmer together like Sirius amidst this darkness or any darkness. Just be kind.

Baaki, zindagi gulzar hai.❀
Thanks for reading.☺


Hold on dear friend, it shall pass, I say. 

Smile the brightest on the darkest of days, I say.

Let’s do things which make you laugh like the child that you are, I say.

Let’s discuss things which will let you drift apart from things that tear you apart, I say.

And when it becomes difficult, pour your heart out, I say.

Make that last futile attempt, speak all those bad thoughts out, I’ll be your listener, I say.

Be weak, cry if you want to, I say.

But at the end of the tunnel there’s light, this shall pass, I say.

I say this shall pass… And I don’t believe in it, when someone says it to me. I am a hypocrite.

I say hold on when I’m always on the verge of losing the grip.

I say sport a bright smile when the most beautiful day doesn’t brighten mine.

I say laugh out loud when mine sounds like a cacophony to me.

I say drift apart when I keep falling apart.

I say speak out those wistful words when I bottle them up inside.

I say pour your heart out when my heart remains full unlike the pages of my diary.

I say cry when all I do is conceal everything and smile less.

I say there’s light at the end when I’m the one who’s too impatient to wait.

I say I’ll be your listener when I’ll never make you mine.

I say trust me with everything when I’ll never do the same.

I’ll never break any promises, but I’ll never let you make any promises.

I am a hypocrite. I’ll always be one.
Thanks for reading πŸ™‚

-Malvika Mishra.


I’ve travelled a bit in this short life.
The few times I did, it was not for a passion to see the world.
Not for the allure of a new unknown world.
Not for the serenading Western Ghats.
Not for the stories of coins that come back from the valley.
Not for the utter perfection of the Taj Mahal in moonlight.
Not for the melody of the bansuri in Mathura.
Not for the peacefulness of the holy river in Uttaranchal.
Not for the simple lessons of the villages on the outskirts of Mumbai.
Not for the colossal mountains.
Not for the first contact with snow.
Not for the exuberance in the air in Wagah border.
Not for the divine beauty of the Golden temple.
Not for the exquisite forts of Rajasthan.
Not for the seemingly boundless desert.
Not for the stars of the moon-less sky in Jaisalmer.
Not for the restricted freedom of walking alone in darkness.
Not for the numerous songs and the innumerable reasons for laughter.
All of this and a lot has come out of all these journeys.
When I did travel, it was just to have “the vacation”. To break the monotony. To share stories with friends. To click a million pictures. To be able to join the “share the travel experience” bandwagon on social media. (I’ll always be one of those people.)
But it was, which I didn’t even realize, for one thing.
To get lost. Every time something broke down inside me, all I wished for was to get lost.
And every time I got lost, I found something. Change. Inevitable. Irreversible. Often serendipitous.
Change in my perception about people, love, life. Usual, eh?
Change in my perception about that one person who’ll always stand by me- me!
The worst times will lead you to the best version of you, one step at a time. Not just that, it’ll teach you to treasure the good times when they last. To know the importance of what you need over what you want. And to never ever think that life is sorted!
It’ll also show you what you’re made of. There’ll be magic. You will make it. And then, you will win.

So now I say, I have a dream.
Travel. Travel. Travel.

Thanks for reading. πŸ™‚
-Malvika Mishra.


“Happy Birthday Viola! Many many happy returns of the day! Live long!”, this clichΓ©d message of her kinda favourite person had marked the beginning of her 21st year. She was over the moon. She was Viola. The simplest of things could catapult her above the overrated cloud number nine. And yet there were other situations (people, actually) which formed declivities, so easily.
Months later, Viola was 20 years old with a wonderful family, a balanced bunch of friends and a fixable mid-life crisis. Not rare, eh? And from nowhere she recognized that one thing her life lacked. A companion. No, not a boyfriend. Companion. The one person who’s always there. The “Let’s watch a movie and get some pizza” person. That “Let’s go home together” person. That “Let’s talk about life” person. That “Let’s study together” person. That “Let’s just sit together in this comfortable silence” person. That one favourite person for all of this.
Viola never felt unlucky. Lonely, yes. But never unlucky. She knew she was loved by many. She had different companions for different things. There was none for”go home together” or “study together” or “comfortable silence” though. And talking about life was quite tricky. There was no favourite person, in person. It was a bit unsettling, to be precise, to see everybody with his or her companion.
It all hit her suddenly when she figured out that her wishful favourite person had his own favourite person. And that they were each other’s favourites.
A lot is scribbled about unrequited love. Ever heard of unrequited companionship? How it can definitely add unwanted drama to your mid-life crisis? It’s simple. When you don’t see it in someone, you don’t want it and so you don’t feel the lack of it. But when you do, and they don’t, only you can save yourself!
It was a heartbreak of a different kind, Viola contemplated. It wasn’t really a heartbreak, maybe “heart-fell-down-but-just-broke-at-the-edges”? Heart says “I’m good.”
Viola wasn’t as sad as she expected of herself. So she just sat there with her “good” heart and all the scattered thoughts. And then she got up and danced to the happy tunes. Her companion’s happy tunes.
Viola is Viola’s companion after all.

Thanks for reading πŸ™‚
-Malvika Mishra