Posted in Pictures

Colours in the skies

Some evenings feel like forevers, the nostalgia of something from the past lingering on the clouds and the colour of happiness clinging onto the face of the skies though deep inside my head hangs down a pale, placid and insipid screen of cloth that now projects nothing but Nothing. Just nothing. Those colours in different shades of pink, blue and orange sloshed across the skies in no style and perfect way remind me of my empty life that was once splashed about with colours vivid, that hardly made sense but made it messier like never before. These colours did not go with each other. Wasn’t blue a little too calm for a fiery bright orange or wasn’t pink soft and simple to be set against blue and orange with clouds too big and soaring birds going home? Life had a different way with me too when it decided upon chaos mingled with tiny bits of love, hate with masses of confusion and black standing out against white backgrounds. The colours fading away now, blue now turning dark blue and pink and orange giving way to darkness, like when the painter decides to go darker at the corners and come clean of anything light and mild, it’s a new world now and so be the milieu in my life. Chaos did give way to peace, love did give way to hate and a lot of other things changed because the painter simply decided to change the whole picture taking it away by it’s eisel.

Dusk creeping in now.
In the evenings I sit watching the skies, realizations dawn on me, wounds that healed open up and some tears do flow down and sometimes hopes are put out. I have no choice but isn’t there something mesmerizing in the colours on the skies, the fading away and darkened shades of some colours that really get you thinking and somehow gets you into adding some colour in your rather skeletonized life that so desparately needs some stuffing,colour, a little magic and a gentle touch of love.
Posted in Debut Book

A Little Spark for Living- Debut Book

On September 25 Notion Press, India published my debut book “A Little Spark for Living” and I cannot possibly contain the joy and gratefulness filling in my heart. Since I am a first time author, the book is only available in the Indian market. You can order my book from the Amazon store, it would mean a lot! https://www.amazon.in/dp/1636332560

As much as I am glad I could finally reach a milestone, my heart fills with gratitude towards God for the hardships He has led me through and the wonderful people He let stay in my life. As I look back, I remember my days in undergrads when my mind had a personal cloud of negativity and a little too much of neuroticism hanging over my head. I was a terrible person fearing for the worst at simple things like “What if I don’t do well in the University exams?”. At such a time I told a friend that I would someday get over pessimism and write a book on Positivity and Life and my friends laughed at me (no offence because I gave them reasons to).

I wouldn’t say I have come a long way but in my own neurotic ways I have been devastated, lonely, depressed, hopeless, most times stupid and very often degrading myself. But every time I lost a friend to selfishness and heartbreak, loved ones to misunderstanding, families to sickness and unfortunate incidents, I learnt a new lesson and again I wouldn’t say these lessons were Herculean but in my day, in my ways they did revive me, add a little sense into my head and help me walk forward though at many times I have walked forward aimlessly and broken in mind and soul.
In school, in every slam book, in every class, to every teacher I said my ambition was to someday become a Professor in Literature and an Author and yeah I have come to reach one milestone and I am glad I did. I did it but everytime I know I did it I know there have been hands that pushed me forward to see the good, the potentials, the strength and the calibre that lay soft behind my vulnerable self.
I am ever grateful to my parents and my brother Justin for the motivation and the positivity they emitted through the whole process. I thank my father who took time out of his schedule to edit the book as to present it in the best way possible, my mother and my beloved brother for constantly motivating me and believing the fact that I could do the impossible if I set my mind to it. I have to be grateful to all my friends for being there when I trampled down on myself. My friend Meera for sticking close for 11 years, Shalom for reviving and praying for me for the past 8 years, Pranav for being a wonderful friend and brother in Alva’s when things started shaking all around me, Nikhil for teasing away all my troubles and tensions by simply writing them out in our rather inactive Instagram page, Souparnika for being the most wonderful friend who believed I could do anything and Adarsh for ever so patiently listening to all my relationship crisis for the past three months and talking to me just to keep my head off sensitive topics and people who could possibly ruin my peace and ruminate a little less about my past. Thank you for believing I could get out of whatever mess I had landed in.
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I love you all.

Posted in Musings

Some genuinity

This is genuine.
Were you by any chance an addictive drug I consumed when I was on the highway of life with the wind and rain lashing against me?
Were you by any chance my battle field where I began something so stressful and draining as this?
Why am I still writing about you when I was supposed to budge and walk miles ahead from where I was stranded?
Was there any chance that if the sun on our skies was brighter we would have possibly seen through each other’s worthfulness?
There are high probabilities that the mist was stronger than ever and the fog filled in my eyes I could hardly see through. Or was that in your eyes?
Why am I standing here when I was supposed to have walked miles into my rather placid days ahead?
Why am I still tick tick writing down on my phone when I have hardly figured out ways to text better and store well in my new phone because I had to give up that other phone. It had memories that tore me apart every morning when I woke up?
Why am I still thinking about you when all I did was to get you out of my damn head?
I changed a phone, a lifestyle, a complete personality…..why then haven’t I changed my rusty mind that has clinging pieces of rusty memories of you all over that I hardly put the singlest of efforts to move it out for the new ones to take its place?
Why am I unwilling to stop writing about you when I know I have erased every trace of you from the walls, corners and shades of my heart?
If I were to stop writing, maybe I would run out of words and ideas for my journal,page or blog. You stayed in the racks of my mind like a dictionary full of words and biblichor that I somehow loved to smell every time I opened it. Redolent in its own addictive sense.
Posted in Musings

“Stop being dramatic”

This is a dramatic play with words. I jotted this down when I sat ruminating about something that triggered a little pain and frustration.
So I was being dramatic?
And what did you have to care to term me “Dramatic” and my ways a little too “Neurotic”. Get out of my way when you feel that pulling urge to judge, churn and term me in ways Oh Boy you have no idea you are causing hurt!
I was being dramatic?
Weren’t you the one who in ways messy and tangled messed up in my territory having the audacity to give me labels of all sorts, colours and styles? Why do you barge in here to examine my ways and draw conclusions?
I was being dramatic?
You never know, I will never know. You called me dramatic when you yourself was dramatic about the mess I was caught up in, painting yourself bold and tough beneath your rather plain dramatic self. Why would you think of it if you hadn’t had it in mind which quite explains why you see me “Dramatic”.
Posted in Musings

C-Y-N-I-C-A-L

He/She/They/You/I

Become “Cynical” at some point of time, out of the blue sometimes.
Losing faith in the people around, the gradual erosion of trust and hope and the constant wearing of intimacy and love is the result, the aftermath of your new season of Being Cynical.
You are at fault, are you? Or is it just life’s messed up games of playing the fool with you, little knowing that it was sucking out every ounce of trust and hope you had in the Human Race.
Are you really at fault or would you cast the blame on Life?
He/She/They/You/I
We have become “Cynical” at one point.
Are you right now or was it just a phase that passed out too quickly you hardly had time to noitce?
Or is it that you call yourself a lovable, dependable, amiable, fanciful, merciful Human whose past is dotted with mosses and weeds in places, Oh God I cannot say where and where not?
You have not been “Cynical”, have you? Or is it that you were when you never bothered to look up your symptoms in the mental health book and probably then look up the word itself in the dictionary by your bedside?
He/She/They/You/I
We have become “Cynicals”. Admit it.
Days when you lost faith in people, the kind heart within you dying and the love going out from your systems. Remember that day when the soft corner within you suddenly turned hard, refusing to go back to being tender. We have become Cynicals at some point and some of us still are. Some of us still living in the trauma that hit us a while ago and settled down since then to believe that love isn’t love and trusting , believing and having faith is all but Vanity.
You have become “Cynical” as much as I have.