If I Wrote you...

I wish I never met you,

I wish I never saw you,

I wish I never held you,

I wish, I wish there was no you.

I flick through the page the pages of my diary more often than not. I see you crossing by me and even though you look at me, you turn your head away, like I don't exist. I know you think that I don't notice but I see you turn your head and look at me when you've walked away, I've got rear view mirrors. My feet still freeze, my heart still skips a beat and passersby still ask me what am I smiling at and all this while I've been trying to get a closure from you. I just had one question, why? Even though, I guess, I know the answer to that.

I've heard your friends complain why do I still describe you in my writings, while mine complain why do I write unrealistic things. I never wrote about you, I never wrote things that weren't goals. Even if I tried, girl you give me writer's block. I feel like I'm short of words. I could write everything about you, but I could never write you -- because, well, it hurts.

My brain freezes, the world hates me and no one talks to me when I think about you. Not even the people I make up. I have tried so many times but I just couldn't. If I could and if I did, I don't know how many acres of paper I would be writing on, and I don't think I would ever stop writing if I could write you.

All this time, I missed so many chances and escaped so much that now I don't even know what track I was on, from where did I escape? I could have done so much, but all I did was wait. I wish it was never too late to apologize and now I... I'm just glad I never got my closure because that would only mean that it has ended and good things don't need to end. Immortal stories don't end.

If I could write you, I would be the luckiest man on earth.

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Kahin Mile toh Usse Kehna

Waade bahot kiye the tujhse,

Koi bhi pura nahi kar saka mein,

Koshishein puri ki thi mene,

Par koi koshish puri nahi kar saka mein,

Tujhe khush rakhne ka waada kar,

Teri hassi ka qatil bana me,

Unn yaadon me jeeta hun,

Jinme me tera na ho saka me,

Waqt ke harr pal badalne se pareshaan hun,

Fir bhi har lamha teri yaad me bita raha hun me,

Kahin mile toh usse kehna,

Harr waada nibha raha hun me.

Kehna toh bahot kuch hai,

Par magar me keh nahi pata,

Mohabatton ka tufaan sama hai mujhme,

Magar me jataa nahi pata,

Tere darwaze pe baitha rehta hun,

Na jaane tu kab laut aae,

Nahi aaegi yeh janta hun,

Par dil yeh samjh nahi pata,

Dil ke lagataar dhadkne se pareshaan hun,

Fir bhi har dhadkan tere naam sajha raha hun me,

Kahin mile toh usse kehna,

Har waada nibha raha hun me.

Unn rasto pe chalta hun,

Jinpe teri yaad basti hai,

Jinpe teri muskurahat,

Aur teri chaal ki masti hai,

Dua karta hun ki aaj tujhe dekh saku,

Chahe door se ek jhalak hi sahi,

Kyunki meri duniya thamb jati hai

Jab tu hasti hai.

Sadkon ke yunn achanak mudne se pareshaan hun,

Fir bhi har mod pe tera naam daura raha hun me,

Kahin mile toh usse kehna

Harr waada nibha raha hun me.

Chahe samundrah tere pair chuhe,

Maaf tu mujhe kabhi karegi nahi,

Galti meri thi me janta hun,

Par kya ek kadam bhi tu chalegi nahi?

Tere liye me milon bhaga hun,

Harr cheeze chod di jo mujhe pyaari thi,

Ek baar mujhse baat toh karle,

Meri ruh itni jalegi nahi,

Aatmao ki yeh gazab mulakaat se pareshaan hun,

Fir bhi teri naarazgi ki wajha raha hun me,

Kahin mile toh usse kehna,

Harr waada nibha raha hun me.

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A Dog Tale

You know I had this dog. Well, um, I didn't own it, it was a stray dog, but I felt like I own it.

There was this thing about it, whenever it saw me enter my building or if I passed by it would bark at me. Always. I thought it barks at everyone so I tired to see over it from outside the gate a few times. It was nowhere to be seen even if the mailman passed by. I thought it has something to do with my odour so I thought it would bark at my family too, now they don't have the same smell but it got similar but, well, it didn't bark. I thought it was his thing with the people with briefcase, so I looked over at him when a man with a briefcase passed by. It came up, wagging it's tail sniffed at the briefcase, probably smelling his lunch and then walked away. Nothing else, not even growling.

It barked only at me and soon it started to haunt me. Whenever I left for work or got back home or had to even go downstairs the first thought would always be, "It's going to be there." Finally, I gave up on wondering and agreed to the fact the it is always going to be there no matter what. I just got used to it barking. It became like the local train announcement for me. Even though I know what station it is, it just tells me. You just settle in.

One day, I got home from work and it didn't bark. Well, I couldn't care less. Another day passed and then another and I didn't see it. On the fourth day, I started getting worried. Where is it? I searched for it, bought biscuits but didn't see it anywhere. I asked the watchman, he said he never saw a dog like that. Where is my dog?

Now I wonder, if instead of passing by it everyday and shooing it away, if I had only stopped once and petted it, I would have know why it barks. 

Does this happens with thoughts too? When they get old do they just die? Do the memories fade? Do they not haunt you anymore when you let go? Do you miss them? Do they come back? Just like the way I want my dog to come back. Even though they hurt right now they will someday become the best memories and probably you are going to wish they stay with you forever. Memories hurt but they are what make us, they are the cutest gift we have got. 

Anyways, tell me if you see my dog, it is the cutest thing alive.

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Is it Worth it?

We at one point have fought for things that we believed would make us happy.

We have believed that things that are not ours, will make us happy when they are.

We have fallen into battles that aren't even ours, to become happy.

And when the storm settles, we ask ourselves was it worth it?

We bruise ourselves, we cut ourselves, we punish ourselves. Our wounds from the battle wouldn't heal for years. They are going to stay, even if they heal there are going to be battle scars, a lot of them. I'm no warrior, but on second thought, aren't we all? We fight through the day to get where we want to be, we think about it all the time and it sure does hurt. The pain at times isn't bare-able. We think about the times when we would win and it is such a dream.

At start we could see the goal, it is right there, that glowing light, yes, that's it! Years into battle, we are lost in a mine field.. The light disappeared and right now you don't even know where you stand. You quit. Or sometime you don't, you just fight long enough to become a light yourself. We mould ourselves, shape ourselves, make ourselves, we become the best versions of ourselves and when we reach our goals and break our shells get out of our cocoon; people say, you've changed a lot.

People we did everything for, people we wished would look up on us, people we wished would stay with us forever, end up saying you've changed a lot. As much as we love what we are, we hate ourselves for what we did. We fought with all our might to get something probably we din't even want ourselves at first. Sometimes we believe it is only the tough path to get where we want to be, couldn't the easy way be right? You know...

Before we start our fight,

Before we are even close to our goal,

Before people start asking it,

Before we regret and ask everyone,

Couldn't we for once ask ourselves, 

Is it worth it?

P.S. You could have a bath for life, and still smell like fish. It's not worth it. Start skipping today.

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What is love? It is... felt.

It's always been easier to stay shut than to talk.

It's always been easier to talk than to do.

It's always been easier to do than to feel.

I met a girl the other day and she said, "You know Ronak?"

I said, "Yes."

"Have you seen him with how deeply he loves his girl? I want someone to love me like that."

We wish things in our lives were the way they are in someone else's, it's because the lust we have for successful things. In a fast pacing world everyone likes to walk through shortcuts, and we are always searching for them, rather than trying to run on the actual path.

Love is not something where you go, Happy!!! Happy!! Happy! Happy. We fought. Sad! Sad!! Sad!!! We fought again. I don't think it's working, we need to break up. It's about mending things that went wrong, it about understanding why something happened and about feeling the pain.

It probably isn't about showing love actively, it's about the little things you do for them and they don't even know about. It's like changing their favorite pen's refill and never mentioning it. Believe me even though you think they don't notice it, real love does.

It probably isn't about going for movies, to dinner, or planning dates, to spend quality time. You could sit together for hours without saying a word and have quality time. You could be lazing around at home the entire day ad spend quality time.

It probably isn't about going to clubs and getting high before you get on the dance floor, it is about looking into their eyes and getting high, before you share an earphone and dance on the street, you may not even need music.

It probably isn't all about the moves you can do on EDM, it is like that heart felt dance on the dhol.

It probably is only about facing everything together and not just the happy part of the relationship before you split. It probably is all about making time from your 24-hour busy schedule, on days where you can't catch enough sleep and looking at them once in the entire day. Or probably it is only about making that call before they go to sleep and asking how their day was.

I guess it's not about flooding the social media with your pictures and talking smooth. Probably Ronak doesn't love his girl, or probably he does, it just doesn't show it in his eyes. However, I love the way she looks at them and I'm gonna let it stay.

P.S. All the characters are fictional and do not have anything to do with people of any caste, race, sex or tribe. Also, no animals were harmed during the making of this post.

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Don't Fall in Love - Rise

Why do we fall in love, when it is said to be one of the strongest emotions?

Why do we fall in love, when it is said to be element that makes someone?

Why do we fall in love, and not rise in love?

We as people we are, do not know a lot of things about the world we live in. Each time we wish to learn something new, we develop ourselves enough to understand it, to learn it, to memorize and use it. We make ourselves, better, we develop, we rise to a level higher than we were. Love is the most beautiful thing and we should rise, not fall. Or maybe the love we seek is weaker than the love we have and we need to fall for it?

When we meet someone, when our eyes meet for the first time, we let our guard down. We let them into our deepest thoughts, we let them into our lives, maybe it's our guard that falls. 

You look at them, angry, frustrated, pissed and for the first time in your life, instead of thinking "who cares?" you go and ask them, "what's wrong", you let you ego down, maybe ego is what falls. 

You have priorities, you have plans you have a life beyond them, they probably know everything about, but they don't know you are going to visit a friend or going to a party, a movie, or a cosplay and they call you up and say "meet me", and even though it was important you cancel on it and go to meet them, maybe it's other priorities that fall. 

No matter how good your day was, there could be one little thing that makes you angry and you are completely raged up, smashing that little tin can on our way home. You unlock the door and the give you a hug, and you melt, it brings back every single memory you had and you fall in love with her all over again, maybe it's our anger that falls.

You need to fall, to rise. When you fall so deeply, there will always be a hand to pull you up, and when they do, you are going to stand taller than ever before. That's the power of love, and I guess that is why you need to fall in it. Fall in love harder and rise stronger, don't waste it on someone you believe is worth it.

Only after the fall of a grapevine, you see a raisin. Sorry.

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Grey

What is grey?

A pigment? Between black and white?

Or a definition of dull, nondescript, or it's just being faceless?

We live in world where everyone wants to be renowned and eminent or enclosed and unknown. No one wants to be a commoner; no one wants to be grey. It's always black and white.

I live in a city, no one knows where I am, what I do, who am I? Sometimes, even I don't. If I knock at my own door and shout, "Hey! It's me!" then at the receiving end, I'm definitely going to ask, "Me who?". We all have a definition, we have fixated answers to the questions everyone asks us.

"Who are you?"

"What do you do?"

"Where do you live?"

"What do you wish to be?"

We were taught these in the school, right? It was a 5 marks question! We had to mug it up, there was no way around. It was going to decide if I'm going to get an A+ or a B  , it was going to decide if I'm ever going to get into one of those Ivy League School, it was my entry pass to NASA, it was going to decide if I was ever going to touch the moon. Or was it? If it was then why did we never ask it to ourselves. 

I'm in my room a 4-way closed wall surrounds me when I'm writing this, door locked, it post-midnight, I'm enclosed. I'm dark.

I got this idea when I was sitting with my bud at the beach, where the cold breeze hit my face. I'm bright

But it's the 3rd time I'm writing it, to check for mistakes (there are many), because I love my readers and this is for them. I'm grey.

I either eat super-healthy foods, salad and boiled eggs and hit the gym or I'm stuffing pizzas in my mouth laying in my pajamas, there's no in between, but I attended a friend's marriage yesterday, and had curry rice, am I grey?

I'm either awake till sunrise, or wake with sunrise, but some days I have different schedules, am I grey?

I don't wait at all, anywhere; or wait till it's time, but I hurry when I'm late, am I grey?

I dress like a drug addict, or for a party, but I have pairs of jeans and casual T-shirts, am I grey?

I'm in the wild, or in this room, but I attend college, where I learned to right, am I grey?

I don't meet people for days, or I'm out partying, but I reply to texts of people who need me, am I grey?

I read an entire bookshelf or entire syllabus in a day, or not a word, but I have an exam I need to prepare for, and I'm writing, am I grey?

I've loved with my entire soul, and hated with every gut in me, but I've never hated someone I love, and have come to love people I used to hate, am I grey?

We are all grey, neither us is black or white. We wish to be sometimes, and we are at times, but you can't be dark forever, and brightness fades too. What we do? How we do it? When we do it? Are things that define us. Nothing matters more than what you are and what you wish to be. Nothing. But to get to where you want to be, you have to go through society, and it is grey.

We are black, we are white, we are Black and White, we are Grey.

Remember, you need to go through 50 before yo become white or black.

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