One of those things.. you know

tree There’s that moment when you feel that thing creeping up at the back of your mind, at the surface of your heart and the tip of your tongue. That urge that beautiful flow of words you know you can write down. You have been staring at blank pages and empty screen for days. Nothing to write nothing to type yet the mind and heart are full with stories and emotions. But it just doesn’t flow. The time ain’t right. The feeling isn’t exact

You sit there, in your empty room, that lone wolf you always were. Talking only in jokes and laughter. Why? Because you don’t know how to talk. And the friends you once had..don’t feel right anymore. The only channel you had was through writing but that is blocked by some strange barrier. Is is too much happiness? Is it too much sadness? Is it that pain in the arm that has been killing you for three days and nearly made you break down in class? Is it because talking suddenly has become the hardest thing in the world..?

So you look at your computer, sighing because the old companion has got old and is getting chipped off in places. An guilty feeling in the heart that it might just be time to let it go. You shut it down, lock you room, go into some other room, try relaxing with a bunch of friends, with that odd feeling that is bugging you deep down.You hang out for a while but then the jokes run out, the energy runs out, it’s too late in the night already and then there’s college tomorrow. You walk back the corridors, up the stairs. Unlock your room and get into bed. Shutting your eyes or opening them does’t matter much, it’s too dark to make out the walls

It’s just, sometimes, everything in the world seems so, far away. Was it you who were walking slowly or were it others who sped off? You know, sometimes it just gets harder to breathe.. writing


GOD I have been putting off SO much and now HELL I have to write this because, OCD or what, this thing is bugging me. I never wrote the new year thingy, I never gave away all the awards I got, not did I ever even write on the fact that I hit 100,000 hits, like a month back

So now. I will

First of all lemme mention all my friends and people I read on WP

And forgive me, they ain’t in any particular order

The White Pumpkin

And I am so so sorry if I missed out anyone. It is freezing cold out here and internet in my building is awful..

And my buddies need to wait for my next post, as I confess my love to them individually =D <3

Anyways. First thing’s first

I started my blog on April 8, 2010. Within two years I got so much love and appreciation from my friends and otherwise and my views and readers just kept shooting. Miracle or what I thank all of you. You guys, are amazing. And tell me what good writer isn’t? You write from your heart and leave me astounded.  Some of you are poets, some practice prose (my love), some write passages and some pour themselves out in their diaries. Some of you are all of this and so much more. It’s like my dream family in which everyone is a writer, and so WP becomes a home. And I am a lousy member… I am sorry. I have my hands in all kinds of dough and college is tiring. I have lost so many people in here because I just cannot blog the way I used to, Write the way I did. But still. I love you guys. And so many of my friends started blogging a little while after I did and great going all of you. I am glad you joined me in here. Thank you for seeing me through my two years. I turned 17, I turned 18, I turned 19. Well.. technically I froze at the age of 109 but shhh, let’s leave it to that

I do hope you all continue this journey with me. For I know one thing in this world more than anything. It’s writing. I am becoming a doctor but I can never leave it behind me. Writing is like breathing. I’ll stop the day I die {And death is not that far away. Since my exams result come out any second.. =( }

Happy new year people. All you guys and grandpas have a great life =)

Aye =D


Off the track

I was just, stumbling around. Caught in my own thoughts, enmeshed in my own understandings. I went on. Head bowed as if I had no curiosity of where I was going. Wearing a big coat and my black trousers. Walking on a deserted road. Night illuminated dimly by the yellow street lights. Such a serene atmosphere. Such an innocent environment…

I am afraid. Afraid to get closer to anybody. Afraid to let open those parts that try to eat me up inside.. scared that again I’ll be proved wrong. This time I might not be strong enough. I am terrified to introduce my friends around. One mistake. My chain breaks..

No. Wait. Stop. I stop in that quiet street and think at the thought. When will I have a life of my own? I have it already dammit! I have a better one. I am a better person. I know better people. So what if life’s not a lot of what I wanted and had? So what? Huh, so what!?

I kick the pebbles out of my way and lift my head. The street is all lighted. I have a long way to go ahead. Hands deep in my pocket, I smile inwardly. I know he has been following me. I slow my pace so he catches me now. Jacob comes and pokes me in my ribs



I’m not crazy, my reality is just different than yours

It’s the stupid feeling when you look at yourself and feel that how stupid you are being, how melodramatic and so absolutely obvious. I am saying this because I am feeling optimistic, I am saying this because I just rinsed my face with ice-cold water and feel new. I am saying this because I know what I know and what I hold. What makes me a better person and what makes me much more lucky.

Comparison. We live according to some scale or model. Judging and rating ourselves according to it. But one soul can never be equal to another. One person can never be exact. No matter how close we are we all posses a great difference in our ideas, our fates, our past and our present. It’s the DNA we can’t challenge.

So I sit here, on my favourite velvet sofa and think of the few hours left to break my fast. I, for now, stop relating to anyone. I, here, breathe oblivious of everything that tends to pollute my brain. If I don’t matter, nor does anybody else aye.

Selfish? No it’s called I-am-getting-back-to-normal
And what leads me to it?
A splash of cold water and a nice conversation.
I am what I am and I am proud of it.

You might aswell go to hell

To the Thawing Wind

I am sitting near the balcony, my legs are dangling through the metal bars.. long they are and ridiculous I look. But there is no one to see.. Nobody to snigger and point. I am so nicely shielded, with the gusts of wind perfecting the situation. Now I can just sit here and think.. and sigh and understand a lot I haven’t.. try to see through a lot of curtains.

Nothing clears your head like the after rain wind. And I feel as if I was born today, early in the morning as the first drop of rain hit the Earth. The clouds still roam overhead.. shielding the Sun… And I look down at the deserted street, imagining people moving down there. With the power of imagination I can conjure anything but hey.. It’s high time we return to face the reality. For a second let’s feel the metal bars and their presence… before I imagine them covered in veils of sacred light. For a moment let’s feel the loneliness of the street. For a an instant let’s embrace our happiness and sorrows in their real form. For now.. for this very time period.. Let’s be normal…


I run from the very aspect of the word, yet to the core I am much like the normal person God created.. in it’s very pure form. Let’s cherish our being normal.. today let’s breathe like what we truly may be.. Forget what you wanted to be.. forget what you might become. Neglect the fact that somewhere, deep in, you are unique.. Nobody can challenge your DNA yeah but be one of the crowd today. Stand in that maddening crowd. Walk through the known and well-travelled roads. See the colours as everyone sees them. Smell the dirt as we all do. Forget everything that separates you from others… For now. Here. Today.

I rest my head on the cold metal and inhale the smell of rusting steel. How far can I run…

Wind and Window flower

Sometimes it is so difficult to inhale one’s defeat.. so difficult to accept things and move on. To understand the facts and face the reality. It’s so difficult.. it’s so hard

And here I am.. packing my bags… Opening my secret drawers and reaching under the sofas and mattresses and piling all the books together. Sweating all over and arranging them in a carton.. or rather cartons. That is the only thing I pack.. or take care of. My books. So it took me a day to pile and categorize and thanks to my sis-cum-cousin now I can’t even find a single pen…

The point is.. with my cousin I am a bouncing ball.. Sarcastic and humour filled teen who’ll make the environment burst with laughter in two minutes. Haha very funny. Really witty….

But of course.. Things run a different course at the back of my mind. I feel distant and uneven. It’s the long run that scares me. And now I am going away again. Feel so tired. Feel like giving up. Shall I give up? Shall we all give up? Someone once said to me what was all that struggle for if we give up midway? But how long.. How long does it take. How long do we have to stay like this? Do these races and struggles end like.. ever?

They say live each of your days like it’s your last.. But that can be done once.. because if the next day is not your last.. you might aswell kick yourself. Sometimes things seem to just run out of hands. Everything spilling from your hand like sand… the harder you clutch the faster they flow…out

I have a bad habit of piling unnecessary thoughts and opinions together giving my presentation a very mosaic look. But things don’t have to have a theme. There isn’t supposed to be a moral in everything. I am sitting here watching the brown cartons I am here ready to go back yet deep in my heart I do not want to retreat to my older self.. my older home. Past is dead but dead people have ghosts about them and the memories are something I am not willing ti embrace because.. because.. I DO NOT have space to keep any more pain and one blow.. and poof I am down.. and believe me.. I receive such blows every single day… It’s a hobby to some people…. It takes a lot of courage from my side to go on. A lot indeed….

Life was never this way.. the roads were never so broken, the journey never so shaky and the destination never so uncertain. The paths scatter in different directions.. each leading to places unknown.. offering journeys I will never be prepared for……

Patience is something I’ll never have.. Love is something I’ll never get… It’s the small friendship I cherish. So I snuggle in the mattress on the floor. And look outside the window. And I silently call the wind…. And you know.. I never said she always answers…

( Title : Poem by Robert Frost)

The Vagabond

It feels so smooth. It feels so cool. Just like walking on an empty road in the evening. Moving slowly. No hurry. No worries. The night is going to come, the Sun is gonna sink.. But doesn’t it do so every day? This is something that happens and has been happening ever-since. The Sun comes out… watches us the whole day.. shines the whole time praying someone might take up the light and find the right path and eventually it sighs.. gives up from our side and gives way to the stars, to the moon to try. Sometimes darkness and depravity teach us something light fails to do so. Borrowing light from the Sun, The moon tries its level best. But the moon is not so colossal.. not so courageous… I see the moon to be shy and reserved. It comes and goes. And vanishes. But the stars they remain there, Far away. So far away..

But aren’t we the ones who move away? The moon, the stars, the sun- they all have been where they were since the creation… But we… we rotate and revolve… Going farther and further. But Lord made this world round.. And it all ends where it began.. and we fail to see it.. The circle of life.. we fail to observe and understand and alas. We fail in the same things our ancestors did. We come back to where it all started

I can only talk about myself. I only have the right to express myself. My face is cold and my hands are numb. The wind is chilling my lungs and in a few minutes my arms will give way. But I don’t care. I need not play any song.. something is slowly playing in my reverie. In my mind I am a traveler. With my heavy backpack and a thick cane I am moving slowly and gradually. In my mind I can picture a lonely road. And I love to sigh here. Because this is what I am. This is how I was born and left to grow up. If I want company I will have it here, But no, I am at peace with myself.

The song in my mind reaches to the point that makes me wonder about so many people. In my brain I can feel someone’s pain. I can feel the pang. There is someone out there. I can feel it. I can feel the fear eating him/her deep in. But I am not concentrating. I don’t want to put any pressure on myself, these poor half dead arms of mine. I am walking down the road. It is sundown. There is Sun at the end of the road.. but the more I walk towards it.. the more it moves away.. So I am going to just carry on walking slowly… It’ll all turn out to be right in the end.. The stars will be seen and I have memories with them =)

(Title : A poem by  R.L. Stevenson )

One Step Backward Taken

Not only sands and gravels
Were once more on their travels,
But gulping muddy gallons
Great boulders off their balance
Bumped heads together dully
And started down the gully.
Whole capes caked off in slices.
I felt my standpoint shaken
In the universal crisis.
But with one step backward taken
I saved myself from going.
A world torn loose went by me.
Then the rain stopped and the blowing,
And the sun came out to dry me. 

Indeed. I love Robert Frost.

Standing where I am… I see it all. See the world that just went ahead of me. From here I can see them all. The part of the world we see stationary around us.. wasn’t so always. It all ends one day. They all ran ahead. Crashing and smashing everything in their path. Can their silence give even the slightest notion of their past? Can their mute stillness explain the wonders of their travels? I saw them go ahead. I had stopped for a moment. Unaware of the fact that they had gone too far. In that stagnant moment I saw everything shake. But my feet dragged me away this time. I saved myself. Saved from the fate I just foresaw. The rain had been pouring hard for long. For long had it been washing away my tears and my sweat. The wind had been blowing so cruel. Turning rocks into sand. But with a step backward taken… I was just in time to meet the sun… With no one here to share the story… I guess its time to return.

Hah.  Long story short. Sire means…

I quit

For good….