Friday, 18 December 2015

Traits of love.

Failed love is nothing but misunderstood love. There is nothing called failed love. Love is the most successful thing that has ever been. Love do not fail, we fail. Not at loving but at interpreting the one we love. Often we make love suffer by the actions of the lover without knowing the exact intentions. Love is trust at its acme. When you love, you trust. There is no other possible way to keep it intact. You develop negative feelings for your lover when you think they aren’t doing what you expect them to do. The reasons you fathom can be entirely contrary to what you believe. They might be already suffering for failing you; maybe it’s not in their parameters to do what you want them to do. Everyone is made of different soil; you can’t expect everyone to grow your favorite pineapples. Some do grow avocados which may not be the thing you desire, but definitely better for you. 

Getting the point?

Sometimes love is selfish. Most of the times it is. But, my darling, it’s supposed to be, isn’t it? When one is afraid to lose you to someone else(whoever in the world it may be), it’s called selfish. They want you to be all yours that is selfish. They want to stick around you that is selfish. Also, they are jealous when you care for someone else. That’s selfish. Then, tell me how is it love if not selfish? Love is weird. It’s not made up of all the good things. When people love you they are ought to be what they have never been. Sometimes a little wrong maybe but what you need to understand is that they love you and hence that. Instead of getting irritated of their traits, you should love them all the more for their intense love for you.
In all those books, they say all the beautiful things about love. Let’s all agree to it, love is not that at all. Love is not expecting, love is only giving, love is waiting for ages, love is this, love is that and bla bla bla. Love is not a single definition. It can't possibly be. Love has an entire different meaning for everyone who loves or is loved. Every other lover has a variation of love within himself/herself.

So, don’t judge other’s love with your definition. That’s where we all mess it up. Try to get their part of the story. It might turn out to be selfish. It might even be jealous love. It might me be a little more sentimental than you can handle. But it’s love and you are blessed with it. Penetrate into your lover’s love and you will see how there's no love better than that and how it can never fail you. 

Wednesday, 16 December 2015


How important is it to impress someone? Yes, most of the times the answer that comes out of the vocal chords is “Not at all!”. But the answer that gets stuck somewhere in the middle is “We do it all the time.” That’s true. People try all the time to impress people they want in their life. Shouldn’t it be the other way? Why would we impress someone we want to be close to? That person you are impressing with all the things you are not, have the utmost right to know the raw you. And you have all the right in the world to be accepted and loved the way you naturally are without any artificial varnishing. We need someone who accepts the way we are, too afraid or too outgoing, whatever! Impressing a person with what you are not will make it further complicated. And further and further. Nice impressions can help you get a person, but what about keeping them? Will you always keep on acting what you are not? You just lost yourself in that case.
To impress or not to impress that is the question. I do not have any concrete answers but a few valid and scattered thoughts which revolve around the discussion of impressions. You impress when you are on a job interview, you impress when the engagement is short and temporary, you impress when maybe you are meeting an aunt from another country whom you will hardly encounter a few times in your life and other purely professional occasions. Impressions shouldn’t have anything to do at the personal front. Wearing an expensive designer outfit with perfectly done hair and a beautifully made up face, impressing someone with whom you will wake up in the morning all your life with nest like hair is a complete misapplication.
You can’t act perfect all the time. People know, (if not, they should) that if they are looking for perfection they are looking for the wrong thing altogether. I don’t think people fall for perfections, they fall for imperfections. Perfection is self sufficient; it’s the imperfect that needs the other to complete what it lacks and to soothe the itch that the imperfect places in one’s being cause.

Impressions should be saved for the right people and places. It’s not for the people closest to your heart. Feel free to be wild with them. Shout when you want to, be angry, be stubborn, and share your unaltered thoughts. 

Love immensely, not impressively. 

Monday, 7 December 2015

Distance doesn't matter?

“Distance simply means separation in place but never in connections. Heart remains inseparable.” - DhelChen

This is one of the many random quotes I get to read on the internet and everywhere else every other day. And that’s one of the schools I completely disagree with. Distance between two people means much more than separation in place. Though the heart remains inseparable, distance is of no help. Distance never increases the love they claim to. I have heard nearly thousands of time that distance makes you long for the person you love, and makes the love stronger. Who in the world came up with this theory? Whoever, it may have been, had been a naive. I completely disagree of any thread that connects longing and better love. Of the many things, what I know of, Distance creates sadness and madness. Longing is nothing but a dagger slowly making its way through the heart. And those who say, it doesn’t hurt, they are lying. But do you really need to do so? To lie, to tell people that your love is beyond distance and all? Is it wrong and selfish to confess that you just cannot do without the person you love? If yes, why do always need to say god things to prove your love? Love should be honest. Brutually, may it be.  

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder, doesn’t it? “  - Simon Van

No, it doesn’t. It just makes the heart weak and all the bad things. It makes the heart to suffer at the core. There is no excuse good enough to justify absence once you vow to be on someone’s side. Absence is a slow poison if not worse than that.
Talking of my personal experiences, I have been married for almost a year now. And most of the times we have stayed apart. Sometimes, for me, the other times, him, and for the remaining, both of us. But of all those times, I can only conclude one thing – IT NEVER HELPED. The only time I can now recall and cherish is the little time we spent together. Every other time minus him is an arrow striking exactly at the middle of the heart. Distance has no role to play in the beautiful relationship we share. We built it brick by brick in the times we had been together, along with flesh and bones. At any cost, I would not accept if one says that our love had not been strong enough to survive the distance. It did survive, but it was always felt caged and that’s where it makes all the difference. It isn't supposed to be suffering like this. I can indeed breathe without him, but living a life is just another thing. No castles and comforts can keep me happy away from him. Not a day, not a moment. Now I know why they call it “Life-Partners”.
Without your fellow traveller, the roads seem to be never ending and your legs feeble. The whole idea of distance and love going together is nothing but an excuse, a lie, which one keeps telling himself again and again. Happiness and distance can never go hand in hand. One’s memory can never make up for the touch one longs for. Kissing a picture can never be as fulfilling as holding the person in your arms. Nothing in the world and beyond can make up for it.

Love is being together. Any contradiction is a lie.

Wednesday, 21 October 2015

That Beast Inside.

There’s a ghost who resides in the deepest corner of our being. I announced the climax of the story too soon. But, maybe it’s not the end. That ghost perpetually owns us. The one that constantly compel us to suffer like we were not supposed to be a part of this mediocre world. We are full of insanity, anxiety and drama. If that was all, it would have been bearable to the extent of earthly competency. But, the ghost is merciless. It is poisoning us slowly and effectively. It is constantly trying to kill us with the thoughts it succeeds in seeping into our minds bringing out the worst in us. This monstrous ghost is the culprit behind our limitless tossing and turning at nights. We fear about the next sun even before the moon shows up. The guilt we carry within ourselves, even for the wrongs we didn’t do. That’s the worst part. Slowly and unknowingly, we start blaming ourselves, at every step of life. If there is anything, anything going the other way around us, we blame our own deeds(which of course we aren’t even aware of.). If our loved ones are hurt or worried for anything in the world, we blame self. Certain people don’t treat us the way we are entitled to and we end up finding flaws within us. Why? The ghost. That dwells within us. And as a lease, pays you with betrayal. How to kill that ghost? We will never know, because that beast won’t ever let us. It will always divert our mind to the thoughts that are painful. Painful enough to scar our soul with toxic feelings.

That ghost, my love, can only be killed by an external force. By another ghost who fights with your ghost and conquers your soul. It soothes your scarred and bleeding soul with it’s serum of affection. One ghost will always be the stronger one, who will overcome the other. The ghost is not killed all at once. It keeps on coming back, and the other ghost has to fight with it continuously to keep your soul at peace and when you come to possess that other ghost, that my dear, is the climax. But, not to be mistaken for the end. It is the beginning of a beautiful, placid life. 

Sunday, 11 October 2015

Maudlin ink.

Writers are repeatedly misunderstood. Rather, too often. We are accused of blasphemy, untruth and saying what we don’t mean. But in precision, the essence of our writings lies within our own feelings. Often perplexed, but unable to write things which our heart rejects. What I personally believe is that there are two types of writers, one, those who write and can fantastically justify what they draft and the other, who write because they cannot speak of what they feel and believe. I am the later one. I do adore the former, but I am not one of them. Should I be guilty or regretful about it? Ethically I am not the one to blame. I didn’t choose to be the way I am. Just that my pen got what maybe my vocal folds lack. Writers like us, are generally incapable of proving things, as we pour our hearts out instead of brainstorming too much to prove that we are right. Our intentions are best. Promise. Sometimes we try to persuade the person at the other end to understand us through what we write and end up by messing it more. We are too afraid that our words when spoken will not be as catalogued as we can do it on paper. So, we write instead of whispering. Not always the one with heavy words, but with abundance of feelings. Writing of feelings is much more dangerous than writing of words for when words are misunderstood it can be rectified but when feelings are misunderstood it takes the toll. A heavy one. The reader is supposed to understand much more than the words. Each word of what we write has something to do with what we feel. You can get hold of a book we read with a pencil along with and you can notice that we underlined the very words we can relate to or the words we had related to in past or wish to be a part of in the future. Words mean a lot to us, not only at our end but coming from the other end as well. It’s not always negative but when it goes wrong, we are at our lowest. While a few words are ample to elevate us to cloud nine, another sparse can end up burying our spirits to depths unmeasured. That’s how our mechanism works. That’s complicated and that’s why we are the most difficult of persons to be with. But once you accept our complications and try to extricate our authentic self, you have someone for life to walk beside you. Our commitments are most sincere. There are certain people without whom we can’t do. We need them beside us. When they hurt, it’s the worst. When they love, there can’t be anything better. Not in all the constellations.
Do any of the ones in your intimate circle of people matches the portrayal? Kindly be a little kinder to this species. When they are frozen to speak, put a bit of effort to comprehend why and let them know you do understand. No matter what.


Saturday, 10 October 2015

Of Innocence and the other.


So, I came across this wonderful kid at the mall today. She made my day. Should I be guilty that for once I felt like stealing her? It shouldn’t be a felony to do so, when the kid at stake is too cute that you can keep her safe and love her whenever you feel the world is not going right. In a terse, always. Okay, gone too far. May she be safe from people with thoughts like me and worse for that matter. Amen. This graceful lady, with a bag slung on her shoulder, going through the racks, to find something to stuff her bag with, immediately grabbed my attention and love. Without caring in the world about the prices and the social acceptability of the brands she is going to shop for. It would have been much easier if we grownups learnt from her, isn’t it? We as humans are evolving into some brand conscious object-oriented creatures. We shop for branded things. Okay, that’s fine, no offence intended. But things go far when we look for people who are branded. When the imported watch appeals us more to spend time with the person than the warmth they are capable of bestowing. When we try to explain the temperament of a third person, we use terms like, “Oh, He owns a Rolex!” So? Why don’t we say, he is helping and caring? Consumerism has consumed our humanity to terrifying levels and the ‘RayBans’ hinder our sight to the inexorable actuality. We go to the malls, buy super expensive stuff. Bargaining? Oh! What about our standards? We are sophisticated high-class people. But, the moment we step out of the malls and take a rickshaw which is driven by a poor man to garner the basic need of food, clothing and shelter for his family, the fare is always open to negotiation until he agrees with the lowest. I am not criticizing, but stating the obvious. Knowingly or unknowingly we all happen to practice this. The lifestyles we follow these days include this without demanding any highlights. International brands are preferred no matter at what cost. Most exemplary of the local manufactured things are rejected because they don’t have the appeal that international tags offer. Let’s just be realistic and pick the things we really like instead of the things we would be liked for. And let’s help those who cannot afford the base of needs. Maybe, we can be a little human too? Let’s just try.

Well, this adorable child. While loitering around, I, along with my friend, again happened to spot her. This time, she was busy with stuffing something into her bag. Sitting, her bag on the ground. Innocence owns hearts!

Friday, 9 October 2015


That man. I hardly knew a year before. Means the world to me. One might think I am having a roller coaster attack. But no. It’s perpetual, everlasting. Than anything that had ever been. To me at the least. From many years ago, I knew he was breathing, somewhere in the world but with no chords attached. He was aware of my existence too, but why would he care? But then, the destiny written fifty thousand years ago, greeted us. Suddenly. Happily. Forever. I surely had dreams of the ‘one’ but never dreamt that it would materialize this soon. Things you wait for usually takes too much time to come to you, isn’t it? However, there are miracles you never believed in. Though I doubt he would have ever imagined in his wildest of dreams that he would get this crazy, moonstruck and muddled girl. We clicked. There were bad things, but they don’t deserve to be in my history book. Not the one written by me. It’s going to be all happy. Now that it’s him. Now that it’s us. I am generally not an angry person, even if I am, I keep it to myself making it unbearable and finally getting rid of through salty tears. But now, there’s nothing I can keep to myself, not that I want to. Because “HIM”. He is the reason I am writing without caring about the grammar. The reason I can finally cry in someone’s presence. Veritably, my tears have come down to a surprising level. Because, I know my tears are not just salty water. Not to him. He makes me angry. A lot. Because I feel I have a certain right to act my heart with him. If not him, then who else? I secretly hope him to know that and I secretly assume that he knows. People maybe dreaming of BMW and Mercedes but there is nothing in the world for me which compares to a bike ride with him. To a third person, it all may seem to be a mere exaggeration, they are no one but naive to me. They can never know how doting a person can be. They don’t know him. I know him. Ah! How proud I am of my monopoly over him. What else do you want? A person, who belongs solely to you, no sharing. Yes, I am selfish. When it comes to certain people, especially him. And, when it comes to certain things having to do with them, especially with him. Yes. I am that much in love. He may not stud me with diamonds, but the way he looks at me, his eyes, Priceless. Most of the times, or just say, always, I am chaotic. It takes me ten minutes at least to decide between tea/coffee and twenty to decide if I want it hot or iced. I am that type of person. But, there is one thing I know concrete. I want him. It’s not just my madness, it’s the way he is. Incomparable. Unparallelled. Simply, the superlative.

Wednesday, 7 October 2015

“You”: The North Star

The sun refused to peep through the clouds, thick fog reigned the December morning. But she was too numb to feel the cold. Normally, the fog would make her wrap herself in layers of colorful blankets along with her cocoa supplies. But it was no more the way it used to be. The blankets remained folded in the upper chest of her wooden shelf. She was there in the corner of her room, curled up in the lap of the cold floor and the wall. Her big round eyes betrayed her as they sank into sleep tired of crying and remembering the day. The day he left.
Yes, he left. Quietly. That queer quietness raised the storm in her soul. But, wasn’t it for the best? Of course, it was! How could a person tangled in his own complications ever solve the mystery of her being? How could someone who was lost terribly among the worldly pleasures ever decorate her soul? But, how was she supposed to console her heart? Her little damaged heart.
Her sky thundered as she saw him leave. No, he didn’t turn back to look at her one last time. Someone, his someone, was waiting for him on the other side of the road. He left. The rain could barely hide her tears. The gardens of her being embraced autumn, she desired no more springs because when the flowers wilt, the pain becomes inextricable. She loved the empty barren lands with the scent of memories they made together.
Why is it that people leave? Didn’t they say forever? Why do they leave with so many unanswered questions?

They leave because they were never meant to stay. They are too weak to handle your fragile heart. They were never a way, but always a hindrance. A barrier between you and all those things you are actually meant to love. Look around; see the sky which you hardly noticed when they were with you. Feel the wind; it embraced you when no one did. The fragrance around you is calling you to diffuse with them. Go to the river at the dawn, it will not lie. Face the sun; get hold of the brighter side of your being. Whenever there is darkness, remind yourself that the stars are what you belong to. Sparkle.