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 

 

ACID.

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. 

Myself.

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 

Myself. 

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 

Learning.

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. 

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. 

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.