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People write diaries. Their diaries describe their personality. I write on my blog. It describes me way too well. :D
My writing takes me places my mind never wanted to go
Everyone writes. From the ink of their thoughts, by the pen of their mind on the page of their face. Everyone writes.I love to write. It is a passion; a compulsion; something that gives me an avenue to express myself. I write when I am happy; when I am sad or when an issue touches my heart. I find inspiration to write in every aspect of life.
This blog is dedicated to anything and everything that fills my thoughts and occupies cranial space

Saturday, February 04, 2017

In an year

the one that broke me,

Usually, letters carrying warm words and warmer intentions start with "I hope this letter finds you well."

I, on the other hand, hope this letter doesn't find you at all. I am simply writing this so the words I have held captive in my being for countless months, can finally breathe. 

When we met, you were a wonder that I couldn't help but to fall in love with. Your words were carefully and perfectly strung together, but I was blinded - I couldn't see the rope of lies slowly coiling itself around my body, until I was yours to use, abuse, and throw.

I couldn't escape.

Your absence made me wary, just as depicted in captivating movies and even better novels - I would sit by the window, tears rolling down my cheeks and wonder why I was the one who had to endure such pain.

The physical pain you gave me was nowhere near comparable to the emotional pain - for it had no cure or medicine. You will find, (to your delight, I may add) - that countless chemists now know me as the boy who walks in crying, night after night, complaining of heartache, headache and asks for sleeping pills.

You might be wondering the purpose of a letter like this. I do not wish to expose you and your questionable intentions to the world, nor do I wish to see a room full of people claiming that they have met someone like you. 

I wanted to thank you. 
Thank you for giving me pain,  I will finally know what happiness feels like when I will be over you may be in an year.
Thank you for the tears, I will now know how to wipe them off the faces of others when I will be over you may be in an year.
Thank you for the lack of respect, I will now respect myself so much more when I will be over you may be in an year .
Thank you for momentarily weakening me. I will be now so much stronger, after being freed from you when I will be over you may be in an year .

Your darkness will never disappear,
just like my light will never fade.

Even a shattered mirror still reflects.

(Never again) yours,
The boy who will fix himself 

You may wander down paths for numerous lovers but you may find that no heart will make a bed for you in it, like mine did. You may kiss a thousand lips, but the brush of mine, lightly on yours might always be missed. 

Go out. Go along. Go and find someone else, like you said you already did. But know this: each time you call for love, it will bring you my name. It will bring you my scent. It will bring you my grace. 

Saturday, February 21, 2015

Some Other Time

They never cease to amaze me, I said. 
My wife stared at me with her big round eyes, waiting for me to finish this sentence that had come out of nowhere. 
The couple on black Enfield, I said.
 Her inquisitive eyes still stared at me, looking for a story. 
 He was 57, I said, and she was 54. She asked me who they were, with amazement! Remember, last year, I went to Leh for that bike trip? She nodded her head into a yes. I met them there, I said. They were the last addition to our group and were a little late. I, as always, was little annoyed at that couple for being late. After a while, I saw a black Enfield coming towards us. Relieved about the fact that they have come, I behaved rather arrogantly.
 "Let’s go now, we are already behind schedule."
 "I am sorry for coming late son", the voice came and with little interest when I turned back I saw the couple in their 50s. 
 Suddenly all my anger at them for being late went away and I felt as if someone had stolen my voice! We started from Delhi on our bikes and I, being the youngest of all, was in the front, a moment of pride it was indeed. We stopped for rest at a dhaba, and you know my immense love for dhabas. 

 I just gobbled down my food as if I hadn't had anything for months. Feeling content, I became aware of my surroundings and saw that old couple sitting together, the gentleman holding the hand of the lazy and whispering something in her ear and oblivious to the world around her, she gave a loud laugh every time. 
They looked beautiful, as if the Gods themselves had brought them together. Gradually, we headed towards our destination and since I was a lone driver, they often used to come and sit by me, trying to make a little conversation.
 I had started to like that couple; the lady looked radiant as she was happy, like really happy! The journey was beautiful and finally we reached Leh and and I saw them sitting by the campfire holding hands in hands listening to everyone's story! 
Once everyone except them was done, the group members turned their heads to them wondering whether they'd say something or not. I won’t lie, I myself was very curious to know about that couple!
 "I was in the army,” he said, “and this beautiful lady next to me is my wife." As he spoke, one could notice the blush of the lady's cheeks, making her look like a beautiful young bride.
 "I have known her for all my life", he added, "since the good old school days". "She loves to travel, and the only reason I am here is her; I owe it to her."
 He said that all his life when he was out on tours, it was she who never gave up on him, took care of kids and listened to him everyday. An irreplaceable confidante she had become. 
"It’s been over 30 years that we have been married", he said and right there, I could sense a proud and a happy man. That day, I was sure of the future I wanted, future I craved for.
 As they ended their story, everybody retired to their tents; I saw them still sitting near the fire, holding hands! That night changed me Priya
, I said! "I hope we be exactly the same!"
 She let loose a tear from her eye and said nothing. The nurse came in and asked her to leave for it was my time for chemotherapy. She gave me a smile, kissed my forehead and left! 
Some other time, in some other life, we both thought in our minds!