Posted in Experiences, memories, Writing

Forevers and all that.

How long are we going to live – Any guesses ? Some say 80, some say 100 while some say forever.
Alice once asked the Rabbit: How long is forever?
Rabbit: Sometimes just one second.
Forever is composed of nows. It’s not composed of promises that fade with time. We’ve heard of the fairy tales that are supposedly called timeless just because they have been lived timelessly, without fear, with love and honesty.  We promise forever in a world that is so temporary that we don’t even have an idea if we’re gonna come back home safe from school. It sounds scary right?
We’re all running in the  races of life, so fast that we don’t bother to wait for a second or two to understand if the race is worth running. We all want to be mysterious. We don’t want to get hurt or sound desperate and needy and hence we pause for minutes and hours, sometimes even days to respond to mails and calls.
The girl who was sitting next to me in the train replied, “I’ll ttyl mom, I’m busy.” and continued listening to music. Something struck my mind suddenly. What if she didn’t get to see her mum after reaching home, would she still say she’s busy? I’m sure not.
What if you don’t tell the guy you’re head over heels in love with that you love him and suddenly one day you come to know he’s no more? Would  your “no no it sounds desperate” count? I’m sure not. What if he loved you too? We never know who needs us back.
We use digitized emoticons to not sound desperate instead of letters that convey feelings better. We communicate via chats instead of meeting face to face. We fall in love with our computer screens than a inquisitive human being. Yet, we promise forever which is Utopian and non existent. We all know that the final destination of our journey is death. We say vague half statements and expect the other person to understand. What if you send a “whatever” to a close friend sulking because of not meeting you when you wanted to and you realize that you will never be able to meet her? Isn’t “meet me later” better than “Go don’t meet me” ? Life can be really uncertain sometimes.

What if you died in the next minute? Just think if you’ll be satisfied with the kind of life you’ve lived.

There’s nothing more risky than pretending not to care. Sometimes, we miss out on the little things in life and cry when they’re no more available. We don’t know whether we’ll be able to see our parents and friends the next time we go home. Years later, someday we might just go back to an empty house without having them around. When this happens, we usually look at their pictures and say – “Oh dear, I love you. I miss you. Please come back.” but they don’t come back. Gratitude is the right attitude, indeed.

See, we never know when we’re gonna be hit by the bus. So, forgive and forget with the blink of an eye. Also, go right now and reply to all the pending mails, text messages and missed calls and thank your loved ones for being around for, we never know when the bus is coming. It’s your life – live it, without fear, with love and honesty, timelessly.

Posted in Experiences, memories, Writing

How it feels to be 18


So, when someone peculiarly asked me, “How old do you feel?” .
I felt that it varies. Mentally, I feel between 11 and 18. It’s a bit scary, because there’s always the risk that I might be found out. Someone might realize that I’m not a proper grown up and misinterpret me  as childish for all that I do with sheer maturity.
Physically, it varies too. If I’m well and the sun’s shining, then I feel 16 while I feel 23 otherwise.
I doubt many people over 40 feel as old as they look. For most of us, the face in the mirror is the painting in the attic. When I haven’t been in front of my reflection for a while, I forget what my age looks like. The face I imagine I’m peering out from behind is few years younger than the one I catch sight of when my computer screen suddenly goes dark.
So, before my 18th birthday, one of my friends told me, “Damn, you’re gonna be 18 now. I’m yet to be.” I was amazed to  this statement and asked her,” Why is it special to be 18? Age is just a number!” She said,” You’ll realize that soon when everyone will wish you happy birthday and gift you presents. The morning will have make you travel farther than the horizon, the sun will shine slightly more bright and life will be anew.  You will feel free, like all the existing barriers have been removed away. You will no more have to convince your parents for going on road trips with friends.”
(Months later, on my 18th birthday)
As I woke up, everything was the same. My parents and friends wished me in a similar way except that they were more excited about my birthday than I was and that they brought me really amazing presents. Otherwise, the sun shone in the same manner it did the previous day. Neither did I travel farther than the horizons nor did I feel free but the most unsure I had ever been of myself. The 18th year of my being began with wishes which were uncertainly followed by questions related to my career choices, religious beliefs, marriage choices and etc. (End of thinking capacity, no really.) I felt  of my own appearance, accent, skills and every piece of my being. It hurt.  I felt really betrayed as I didn’t feel a single emotion that people claimed that I will experience when I turn 18.
Initially, when I was small. Not that I’m old now. Just. Often, when I argued on something with people older to me, my perspective was looked down upon and I was told to speak up when I turn an adult, (that is turn 18) but now that I’ve turned 18, things are still the same. I have aged in some portions of my being however I still love candies. My perspectives have surely altered but they still consist of most decisions taken by the heart and the instincts. Though, I’ve realized one thing as I’ve grown up (a bit yeah, not much.) , “Life isn’t going to give you anything for free anymore. Life isn’t going to hold your hand either.” 

However, the feeling of turning 18 continues to remain abstract. 
But tell me, How old do you feel? 

Posted in memories, quotes, Writing


You are going to feel disappointed and you’re going to feel sad. There will be times when you’ll forget your way to the destination. There will be days when you’ll finally realize that morality is just an illusion. You will miss everyone one day but you’ll learn to keep it with you. There will be a day when you’ll care a little less and get through it. For, the best way out is always through. – @simranbrijwani (instagram) ☀


You’ll can connect to me via mails and instagram as well for anything 🙂

Posted in memories, Poetry, Self love, Writing


Hey guys, how have you been? Coming back, almost after a month. This blog isn’t as positive as the others but I hope, many of you’ll would relate to it. It’s based on a girl who loved mysteries so much that she became one.  

She’s a mystery,
The dark behind the moon.
She’s somewhere,
I wish I could see her soon.
She says she’s alright,
Listen to everything she tells.
But, as I slowly read the verses she wrote,
It was as if my heart breaking from somewhere else.

She was like the ending of an unfinished book , he had an ominous look
He was etched in her mind for days,  like a scab on the pigment of her skin,
Lights were dim and she still couldn’t grin,
Late nights; the hidden frights ,she blinks up with the bathroom lights
2am, the promises have faded, and the soul is again jaded
“Why are you here? You promised dear,
But now your knees are scarred, And your voice is tarred.”

Searching for an answer to it all
even though it’s written on the stall,
she blended in with spare suicidal words
engraved along the bathroom wall and began to cry again.

One day maybe she will see
the bottle of hope floating in the sea,
She’ll then unwrap its final note
to reveal what destiny wrote.
Until then, she’ll continue to be a – mystery!

Depressed-womanPlease give your valuable feedback. With this poem, I’ve tried to experiment a contradictory version of personality that we all, at some point in our life have been through or seen someone like this around us. So feedbacks, please! 😀

And yes – Have a good day 😉

Posted in memories, Poetry, Writing



We laugh, we cry,
Sometimes we’re low while sometimes we’re high,
There are times when sadness visits, says Hi’
and Happiness bids goodbye.

We go through – Days of lying on the bathroom door,
Regretting and weeping on the floor,
Missing those endless laughs saying,I want some more,
Reviving memories on the shore.

We’re all so different, yet the same,
We’re all so intelligent, yet so lame,
We all live in memories, lying in the frames.