You know that one jacket you bought when you were fifteen? It had sequined collars and zippers on the shoulders and made your mother wince a little when you sashayed outside in it.

It makes you wince now, too. For old times’ sake, you try it on every now and then and all of a sudden you’re fifteen again. Sequined and zippered. But it just doesn’t fit anymore. It’s time to let that jacket go.

This blog – Catalysts and Poisons – is my sequined jacket that I’m letting go of. I now post every week on: https://deekshabhat.wordpress.com/

I hope you find the time to give it a look and maybe leave a comment or two. 

Letting this blog go is bittersweet to say the least. I don’t think I’ve ever had a space like this. A space for honesty, growth and work that brought meaning to my dullest days. But the jacket just doesn’t fit anymore. And I’m letting it go. 

I hope and pray that you’re having the happiest new year. And if you stuck around, thanks for reading this all the way through.

God bless you all, you beautiful, beautiful people.


Amateur and audacious


Image credits: The ever so amazing Liz Climo

I recently discovered what blogging really means and what it takes to cradle to your breast a successful blog that you can call your own. As for the title? It’s quite audacious for a litle fledgling like yours truly to be talking about being a successful blogger.

But I’ll get there. Eventually. *Dons ceremonial garb and sacrifices sleep and grades to appease the Gods*

But hey, if not anything else, I’ll always rule exaggeration island, right?

What I’ve had this past week is quite frankly a lucky streak. People took the time out to rummage through my word vomit, find something they like, hold it up against the sunlight and say, ‘Hey, I think I like this.’ And for someone who would like to someday pluck words (stem intact) from a vine and weave them into a new garland everyday for the rest of her life, this means everything.

Once  I got past the flushed cheeks and ultrasonic bat squealing, epiphany arrived (in sneakers and scuffy socks, unwashed)

Blogging is never unidirectional.

Through our online presence, we’ve signed ourselves up for being a part of a community. A community that has sprung and leaped and twirled its way across the globe. A place where – may the heavens fling their choicest thunderbolt down at me  for squeezing in this cliche – so many cultures seep into each other through their experiences and how they’ve chosen to doccument them.

Photographs. Videos. Words. Poetry. Poetry. My God, the Poetry. So many earthlings going about their daily lives – telling us how their cat fell sick, how they discovered true love, what their first day of college was like, what fitness meant to them, how racism failed to wreck their lives, how art helped them rediscover and rekindle their talent, how their quiche turned out perfectly golden, how they quit their job, how their mentors changed their lives, how their children are insecure about their sexuality.


I signed up for this, and I’m so glad I did.

And I slowly began to participate. I left a like here, followed a stranger there, left a comment down below. And with greater frequency. When I liked something, I made sure my fellow writer knew that I liked it – and why. The response took me by surprise. And I loved it. I discovered new people, and they discovered me right back!

Again, I signed up for this, and I’m so glad I did.

It takes a tiny sip from the courage flask; writing something and flashing it out there for the whole world to see. As I type this out, I have considered (thirteen times already) trashing this draft. Will people like it? Will people read it? Is it good enough?

Looks like I had a sip from the courage flask.

P.S. If you made it this far, thank you. I hope you never lose your favorite socks and that your beverage of choice is always at the perfect temperature to drink.