A Portrait of a self-tortured child

|| Act I ||

If the behaviour of babies and small children is any guide, we emerge into the world with our tendencies to imbalance already well entrenched.

Excerpts from the book ‘Architecture of Happiness’ by ‘Alain de Botton’

This book is one of my personal struggles. Although back in architecture school this was a part of a selective group’s coursework. Like I’ve mentioned before, I’ve tried and failed at finishing a lot of books over the years. Currently I’ve managed to reach the chapter ‘Why Ideals Change’. The above excerpt reminds me of a friend of mine, living far far away now. Whenever I pick up this book to try and read a little, because its simple ideals are just too heavy to digest at times, the face of my self-tortured friend makes me smile.

If you’ve read any of my previous posts, you may know who I’m talking about, but yes, she does need a post of her own. I’ve still for bro code reasons, taken special permission from her, to dedicate and have her name all over this permanent tattoo we call ‘the internet’.

I present to you, the true definition of freedom, liberation, self-sufficiency, dreamer, perfectly lonely and all the other pleasant words you can think of, Ms. D’souza.

|| Act II ||

Back in college like a creep, I would constantly document her, with her consent ofcourse, but this human being is just something else. I may not possess the vocabulary yet to even begin to write about her, but a picture is worth a thousand words, no?

Our undergraduate school was in a well known city in India, we still like to call ‘Bombay’. It’s just not what the British left behind anymore though.

When I think of Bombay, I think of rain. When I think of rain, I think of this maniac! In the former years of our course, she happened to borrow and lose my umbrella. Did I ever get it back? Well .. that’s a story for another time.

And yes, ‘Umbrella’ by ‘Rihanna’ is the apt song for the picture above and our situation.

Man, I miss sitting on balconies at the end of every party, drunk or high and singing our lungs out. Even the time we were too tired to make that sketch-up model, little onyx (for you Pokemon fans), but the song ‘Annie’s song’ by ‘ John Denver’ kept us going.

|| Act III ||

There are so many pictures of her that I can’t even locate anymore. Some are too blurry, but my selected works (yes, I’m going to call it that because she was literally my muse) are below..

The person on the left doesn’t really like an internet footprint
View this post on Instagram

Ma bitches That face @purvajoshi17 πŸ˜›

A post shared by Arushi Jain (@arushi20393) on

But these are already there so, too bad!!

I call people rich when they’re able to meet the requirements of their imagination.

Henry James, The Portrait of a Lady
This is by far my best work
In barcelona..There’s a song right? The artist I can’t remember..
In a street in Barcelona
Taken from a low resolution phone camera
At a pizzeria in town, I’ve honestly forgotten the name
On a swing chair in a local watering-hole called ‘Copa’
“Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones,
and I will try to fix you”
I’m hoping everyone is familiar with this song by ‘Coldplay’
That’s her in the center
Taken with a very very old phone camera

As my pictures get even more blurry than my memory of her, I hope to catch-up, not just over a phone-call or texts, but in person with her soon. Mostly in the hope that I can continue to document her; my never ending thesis of this woman; just so peacefully comfortable in her own skin.

I’m pretty sure wherever in the world she is, she’s sitting on a couch at the end of the day, eating chips and watching a hilarious show, next to a water-body, hoping to swim in it the next morning. For me, she is the true architecture of happiness. If and when I complete that book. I might just add another act to this post. Till then, this is about it.

A few quotes, song lyrics that always remind me of my self-tortured friend shall follow. I hope she’ll know exactly why I’ve picked them though

In our playpens and high chairs, we are rarely far from displaying either hysterical happiness or savage disappointment, love or rage, mania or exhaustion-and, despite the growth of a more temperate exterior in adulthood, we seldom succeed in laying claim to lasting equilibrium, traversing our lives like stubbornly listing ships on choppy seas

Excerpts from the book ‘Architecture of Happiness’ by ‘Alain de Botton’

You fill up my senses | Like a night in a forest

Like the mountains in springtime | Like a walk in the rain

‘Annie’s Song’ by ‘John Denver’

I said oh baby back when you and I were kids| The colours were as bright as the light of the cherry

On the tip of my lips| I needed a little lips sometimes

‘Cherry by ‘Morningsiders’

It’s been so long| That I haven’t seen your face

I’m tryna be strong| But the strength I have is washing away

‘I wanna make up’ (the dirty version) by ‘Akon’

This has a hilarious backstory, but I’m laughing too hard just thinking about it to even type.

All your friends they | Ride into the sunset

Fly into the sunset | And away they’re blown

‘All your friends’ by ‘Coldplay’

Oh ya, I finally did get my Umbrella back, as a Secret Santa present, along with some nicer materialistic things that are too personal to share.

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