I inherited my mother’s love for sad songs. One can be happy for other people, but one cannot associate with that happiness. Sadness is more universal. When Guru Dutt laments, “Tang aa chuke hain kashmakash-e-zindagi se hum”, his kashmakash, the paradox of life, isn’t just love, it is everything.

When you decide not to turn back after a break-up, you must find yourself anchors so you sail smoothly. These almost lovers, these could-have-beens, matter to me the way love does. Without them, we would be lonelier than what imagination permits

At a drunken party, a guy I was chatting with told me he wanted to kiss me, and that I also wanted to kiss him, I just didn’t know it yet. This was the first time where I found myself questioning the idea of consent. Did I invite this guy? Because we were flirting, did I owe him a kiss?