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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

Friday, July 07, 2017

An open letter to Mr. Prime Minister

Dear Mr. Prime Minister,

I am writing this open letter to you today because one thing hurts me often. I am sure that same thing hurts the whole country and whole country thought that you are capable of solving the problem, that's why they all elected you.

Everyday on news, one news is common there and that is: "Open fire by terrorists in J&K. One jawan martyered."

We all know where these terrorists are coming from and you promised us that of you come to power then a strong answer will be given to the terrorists. But nothing concrete has been seen so far.

I still remember when all this happened during the previous government, there were statements by your government that  this silent government cannot do anything. Even now in your present government, all we can hear is "kadi ninda" from Mr. Rajnath Singh. 

If we have to hear these statements only then this job was done by the previous government also. Where is the difference, sir? I am writing all this, not to satisfy my political interest but after thinking about our brave soldiers protecting us at the border. They are also human being. They are also somebody's son, husband, father, brother etc.. What wrong they have done that they have to live in such a constant fear that an attack can happen anytime? India being such a strong country, why can't these attacks can be stopped? Why everyday a soldier have to sacrifice his life because of these terrorists?

Sir, I am not doubting the strength of our Army. I even know that your government have masterminds like Mr. Ajit Doval who knows how to stop these attacks. But why the government is not doing anything? Even the life of a soldier is very precious. Why are we letting it sacrificed when the nation have resources to stop such kind of attacks.

Don't you think that all this is sending a wrong message to the rest of the world that India is an inefficient country? Mr. Prime Minister, when you were campaigning, even Pakistan was frightened, that if you come to power, then it would be difficult for Pakistan. Your 56 inch chest is no more scaring our neighbours.

The whole country really thinks that it is time to act on this front. We have many leaders for doing the kadi ninda, but now we need someone who can lead from the front and can show the whole country that you are delievering what you promised. And all those were not just election stunts like the return of black money within 100 days of you coming in the power.

I don't know whether this is the right platform to reach you. I tried reaching you once on your app on an entirely different topic but haven't got any response, so now trying this.

From,
An Indian

Friday, June 09, 2017

Friday

Yayyyy its Friday!!!!


Everyone in the office back there was so excited and as the evening was approaching, glow on everyone’s face was increasing.

Yea and why not they will be happy? One is going to his home over the weekend to meet his family. One girl was going to meet her husband after six months who just returned from abroad. Another guy was going on a dinner date with his wife. Out of all of them, Rohan was sitting in a corner with no expression on his face, watching all of them happy, wondering what he will doing over the weekend.

Rohan also waits for the weekend, because he can sleep for as long as he wants on Saturday morning, but time stands still every Saturday morning once he wakes up as there is nothing else to do. His weekend too starts on Friday evening once he reaches home. Oh did I just said home? Oh yea, a small 1BHK, a small square divided in 4 portions, a room, a hall, a small kitchen and a very small bathroom. But yes, its home for him. As they say home is where happiness is, but he is still finding the happiness in that home or home in that happiness.

Staying alone in a dark room, taking a long afternoon nap, no hangouts, no parties, these all were punishments for Rohan earlier and now these are his new habits. He now refuels himself by staying alone in his apartment from Friday evening until Monday morning. His laptop, cellphone and new JBL speakers are his partners in crime.

Amidst a polluted city, on a sleepless night, in a rented room he often wonders whether this was all he aspired for.

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

Do you know

Do you know what the saddest part about moving on after a breakup is?

It's not putting a fake smile on your face at 1pm and laughing and giggling with your friends, telling then that you're perfectly fine and that you don't even care about anyone now, when your eyes keep on searching for her just to get a single glimpse at her face.

It's not those 1am sobs that you try to muffle into your favorite pillow that is now covered with your tear stains. Your pillow knows your story like no one else does, and has tenderly locked in itself every emotion you've ever poured out.

It's not the 3am breakdowns, when you cover your mouth with your hands to make no sound and your insides are howling, wanting to scream the hell out, even when you have no strength left in you.

It's not the talks you secretly have with her picture, confessing everything that you never were able to say otherwise. You pour out every story that you've wanted her to listen to, your every experience and your love for her.

It's not about holding a blade in your hand and wanting to end all the chaos altogether at once.

It's not your heartache when you want something that you very well know you can never have.

It's not when you look into her eyes, smiling like nothing has happened, when it is shattering you from the insides, making you bite your lips to stop yourself from breaking down.

It's not spending your nights starting at the blank walls of your room, imagining the countless possibilities you had together, and waiting for that one message from her which never comes.

It's not when your heart races and swoops down into a well of remorse and disgust for your own self after seeing her with him, loving him with all her heart, doing everything that you'd wished for.

It's not looking in the mirror and asking yourself why it wasn't you again and again, and then feeling worthless and telling yourself that you'll never be good enough.

It's not when you push everyone away because you think you're a broken piece of glass, sharp enough to hurt anyone who comes close to touch you.

It's actually when you realize that all that has led to this was a lie which you already knew about. And you end up  hating yourself, but you miss the lie and question the truth of the feelings it had given birth to.

Saturday, February 04, 2017

In an year

To
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.