Thursday, 31 July 2014

What's a war going to kill 
In this dead heart of mine
My breathes are for the namesake 
Only mocking this time 

Little is left to break and shatter 
All that's left of me Is hurt and anger 
Kill me, cut me open 
There'd be no blood to spatter 

What's a bullet going to do 
They've pierced my skin 
Through and through

What's a war going to kill
They say they take away everything you built 
But what's a bullet going to do 
When you're lifeless, every single part of you 

When you're already so dead 
Just so through and through 
Tell me, What's a War going to do 

Tuesday, 8 July 2014


It rained yesterday and it was a different kind of rain. There was no cold and no warmth to it. The rain was just rain, only water flowing down and as it trickled down my window I thought about how beautiful the rain was to me, how much I loved the rainy season, how much I adored the weather and I thought about how the rain was beautiful to me whether I saw it make pathways down my window, silently from inside or whether I was outside splashing the water away noisily. And it made me want to be the rain. I wanted to be the same inside and outside. I wanted to be the same to your eyes whether you looked at me at 5 am or  7pm. I didn't want to be beautiful, but I wanted to be me, through and through. The rain leaves a certain kind of smell and taste in your mouth even after the downpour stops and I wanted to leave that taste in your mouth, I wanted to leave that sight in your eyes. 

It rained the entire night and in the fresh dewy after morning of the rains, I went out to get the newspaper and the headline read "Acid rains flood the city, do not leave....." And what it said after that I do not remember, because I kept the newspaper down and realised that maybe I was meant to be rain, only the acidic kind, the one that was deceptive, the one that looked like every other rain but one that was true to itself only when you felt it with your heart. The one that was the same to your eyes, but the one that burnt your skin. The one that left a taste in your mouth, but a bitter acidic taste nonetheless. 

Yes, I was meant to be rain indeed, only the acidic kind. 

Saturday, 28 June 2014


I am chaotic. Sad. Alone. Depressed. Maybe even a lunatic. 
I'm alone in a crowd. I'm at peace only with my demons. I am everything you'd not imagine me to be. 
As I said, I'm sad. But what I'm not is a sad story. 
I'm not a sad story. 
I'm not an example of a life not well lived. I'm not an example of a person not well loved. 

I'm all things negative yet I'm not negativity itself. I'm the ray of hope I need. 
I am my own sunshine and my own rain. 
My demons are just that - MY OWN. I'm not afraid of others. 
My fights are not with people but with myself. 
My competition is me. My bar is set to defeat the "me" of the past and to become better than the "me" of the future.

I may be alone but I am not lonely. I have my family, friends and myself. And that is all I need in this world. The identity of the being within me. The being that I am. 
All that I need is the clarity of my likes, dislikes, aims and ambitions. 
All I need is 


Little by Little.

And maybe little by little 
During the times that I loved you 
I lost parts of me 
Little by little 
You brushed off yourself, your habits, your smile, your personality, on me
And little by little 
What I lost wasn't my heart 
It was me. Completely merged with you
And little by little you went so far away 
Dying a new death everyday 
And now that you're gone completely 
It doesn't pain so much 
Because all those parts of you that live in me 
They remind me of how amazing you were 
That you were beautiful 
And maybe by the beauty of you
I might find beauty In myself 
Little by little 

Tuesday, 24 June 2014


I love learning. Learning new things. New experiences. And I think no school can teach me what the various people I've met have taught me. 
I love meeting new people. It's the best experience. It has in many ways shaped who I am. I chose. I chose from people, mostly from their behaviours what I liked and disliked and made them my own. 

School told me to be kind. 
But what I felt, what I experienced when someone was mean to me. That was what taught me to be kind. 

People around you will teach you more than anything else can. 

It's the experience you have with people that moulds you. Was a person good to you when you were broken ? Did it feel like god sent that person? Did it feel great? Do you want to be that person? 

I've only learnt from people and experiences. I notice only people and observe only behaviours. People are diverse. Behaviours are too. But in the end it's only as simple as this - 
"Are you a good person? Or are you not?" 

I ask myself this question often. I haven't done anything yet that can give me an answer. I hope someday though, some one will smile at me, and say thank you, and that day I might have achieved something in this little life. 

Sunday, 8 June 2014

The Northern Lights.

These lines are blurred 
These people hurt 
Life gave them pain
Hurt regret and sorrow- only these remain 

They flew off to another sky 
Wanted to explore a new them
They went off to the northern lights 

Slowly each saw what they'd never imagined
Little fractions of light melting their hearts away with each fragment 
They sat there in awe of what was happening 
Colours were dancing up in gods canvas
Greens blues and purples they saw every now and then
Falling from above - the most beautiful curtain 

And as every second made their heart beat faster 
It slowly made their scars lighter 
By the time the northern lights disappeared, 
So had their scars, traumas, their fears 

Sitting anew, they were pure beings 
Made of stardust and beautiful things 
They had been purified by the above skies 
Blessed by the beauty of the northern lights. 

Tuesday, 20 May 2014

Imperfection is not an excuse.

"Yes I make mistakes. Yes, I go wrong, make wrong choices. But don't judge me, I'm only human."

Today, you'll find tumblr filled with quotes of this sentimental value and although they are not entirely crap, I don't agree with them. 
 I understand the fact that we are flawed, imperfect, and that we make mistakes unintentional or otherwise, but I think today we take this for granted. 

So what if you're flawed? Imperfect? It does not for a second give you the right to hurt another ones feelings, to walk right over someone else's sentiments and say, "oops, sorry, my mistake, but don't judge me, I'm only human."

I like to look at people as a collection of their imperfections, and not of their perfections. All our imperfections, all our flaws, and all the mistakes we make because of them, they don't make us who we are. It's how we choose to make up for them, to not let our 'flaws' hurt someone else. How we choose to become better people, better humans, everyday of our lives. Striving towards a better, less flawed, less 'imperfect' us. That is what makes us who we are. 

Our thought process shouldn't be, "okay I'm flawed, deal with it." It should be more of a "okay, I'm flawed, I accept it, and I'm going to do every little thing I can to become a better, more wholesome human being."

              Flawed are you and me 
              To cover up our mistakes 
              This line we too often use,
              But baby, imperfection is 
              Not an excuse                 

So I guess what I want to say is that to err is to human, but to work towards greatness, of any kind, whether by doing great work for others, whether by planting a tree, or by simply smiling at a stranger, that is the greatest of human potentials. 

Saturday, 19 April 2014

We grew up too fast.

We grew up too fast. 

It's sad you don't think? 

Life's changed too fast and too often. 
We knew things we shouldn't have known. 

Saw things we shouldn't have seen. 

Felt things we shouldn't have felt.

Let tears flow when they shouldn't have.

Let our hearts be broken when they shouldn't have. 

Let our minds explode over thoughts that shouldn't have been thoughts in our minds at all. 

We let our situations make us go crazy when they shouldn't have. 

We let ourselves be conquered by materialism when we shouldn't have. 

When the breathe of fresh air was right there we breathe in the smoke. 

When life was giving us sunshine we hid. 

When rain stopped by we fled.

The age when life was only supposed to be a four letter we searched for meaning and made life complicated when we shouldn't have. 

We grew up too fast. 
When we shouldn't have.

Tuesday, 25 March 2014

Life and the little things in between.

I grew up having a lot of issues in life. But you can't just say "I'm not going to live this life" or "I'm giving up." The moment you give up, you meet your end. 

For me the worst thing in life wasn't failure, the worst thing was not trying. Yes, you're not going to succeed always. Yes, you're going to get hurt, but that's part of life you know. Life isn't all great if you keep wining all the time. 
  Life is great because of the little things. Life, is this epic journey, where you meet people, you get hurt, you're loved, you also hurt others, knowing or unknowingly and most importantly, you keep moving. 

Yes there is a lot of pain in change, in changing, in moving, in constantly searching for that spark that keeps you alive. 
  But nothing is more painful than just staying where you are. Just still, with nowhere to go and no place to come from. To only exist, to do nothing but waste oxygen. 
To realise no dream, to appreciate no being, to not be awed by the beauty of this world. 

Yes I could've done that and let my issues eat me up, but there was this one time when I walked outside, breathe in that fresh, crisp air and looked at the stars shine, so bright yet so dull. So full of light and yet not as bright as the sun. So many things all at the same time and realised I wasn't very different from them. 

And since then I haven't been able to walk back inside.