First blog post

This is the post excerpt.

This is your very first post. Click the Edit link to modify or delete it, or start a new post. If you like, use this post to tell readers why you started this blog and what you plan to do with it.

post

I am,

I am a naturalist for what I deserve, for what I act for, for what I was born with, for what I am aspiring to be.

I am a person as what they think about me, what they feel for me or where I stand in their life.

I can be a rhetoric persona for all their questions about my parts of silhouettes and ellipses.

I am a misanthrope for all of them,

Above all, I am me- a human with a life, a girl with a desire, a woman with aspirations. I am someone who is enthusiastically interested in my life, thoughtfully thinker of my life, unbelievable believer of love, unkempt pieces of my sorrows, joy of own happiness…….¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† I will never be a submissive, and

I’m sorry I’m a humble narcissist.

Glancing lives…

Every one of us has embarked upon the chaos of a year new in our lives. Everything has changed but there is only one constant, YOU. For moving ahead, grabbing the brightest star for the future of your galaxy, there are many meteors yet to be dead and more heat to be engulfed by a protostar.¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† You are in your way. The thing that lies within you is the struggle for your goals, the energy for a run that you need to reach your final destination, a full sized aortic pump that is thirsty to see growth, an eye that perceives every materialized object and a curious mind that thinks about every humid pre-possessing homo sapien.¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† Passing every hurdle, you will reach there, where there is peace within you, where you’ll feel like this was why you were made, where your eyes release drops of happiness, where you can hear your heart beating fluently and where you will be just more than, YOU.

 

Opinions,

I was once told I was a misfit. On hearing that back then, I used to shout my heart loud at people saying this. I used to ask them ‘why’. The answer I always used to get was because I don’t fit amongst the peoples’, I didn’t like the way the things to go in the exact way they wanted. I was always there to find out their answers and reasons why. They used to cease my mouth shut with a recurring sentence- because, all of us wanted the same. I used to be left out from the gang, the so-called ‘personified qualified humans’.¬† I always thought about their comments on the matter whenever I used to walk in my trails of creating myself, knowing myself for what I am, changing myself for what I used to be and discovering myself for what I could be. Whilst ending the day, I always had a firm belief with a conclusion that each how’s and every why’s doesn’t have a reason. It may be because I am different from others and so are they. There is surely an array of the things they are used to see which could be contrary with mine. The realization that sparked in me with every bit of the conclusion made me more devoted towards the universal law of differences. A cup filled with half water can be seen as half full or half empty depending upon the perspective of the viewer. And there’s nothing wrong with that. I, when I used to listen myself, try to understand myself helped me in moving one step further of creating myself. It developed a feeling of togetherness within me, a bundle of my mind, body, and soul aptly working together in doing something bigger, better. It gave me a feeling of having wings still when I was grounded, a power to smile even if my heart was crying out loud, and a patience in myself to accept the changes and move on. The only thing that triggered me was the memories of people haunting me and taking me to the best times of my life. The thought of they being different always again hit me. I then conclude; they are people, so am I. They will forget me, so will I. They have got used to it, so have I.

I stood there in disguise. A painting was hung on the wooden board infront of me.I never understood art, in my denial,I would say that I was a commerce student. A guy in a white coat walked up to me,I trembled.He put his glasses in his right,his left was on my shoulder.I was mentally prepared to hear the loss.

We were all laughs hours ago. Who would’ve imagined the devastation that followed? I escaped with minor injuries,she must have got the major ones.I never understood science either. All these white people around me,”Are you,God?” If you’re anything close,please don’t let her die,I thought to myself.

If there was anyone I looked upto after mom,it was my sister. Sisters’ are annoying.She always fought with me,bossed over me,was the intelligent one, was the favorite child and what not. But right now, she is battling for life. As the minutes’ pass,I wait outside. Memories flash all over my mind. All the good times we’ve shared.She had my back at all the times, helped me out of situations, kicked my ass when I did something stupid. She was the coolest sister ever.Now she was struggling to survive.I couldnot imagine what life would’ve been without my guardian angel,partner in crime,my soul sister.That pale skinny man in a white coat just uttered the most delighted news ever,”You’re fortunate. Her injuries aren’t that serious.” I shot up a small prayer but thanked the ‘God’ infront of me more. I was allowed to see her after a few hours.I informed my parents after I spoke to the doctor.I will never forget the look on my father’s face that day. If something unfortunate had happened to my sister, he would’ve shot me dead. My grandfather’s most admired belonging, a gun hung up on the wall would have been put to use.After I had been allowed to see my sister who just escaped death, I smiled right away. While she rebuked,”Now, don’t blame the dog for crossing your path.”

Dear lost person,

Dear lost person,

It is 3 am and I can listen the rain falling outside, as I lie on my bed unable to sleep.But,for now this is a familiar moment for me,for I have all my views to myself.It is one of those few moments,when I am totally truthful to myself,in the manner I think. And,I am thinking of you.

It’s been 3 months since we last spoke.And time passed by,as our lives passed by.And, in this transient motion of my life, most of the days are flawlessly balanced. Best,even.But,every once in a couple of months, comes a day which is not so balanced and not so normal.It is that day when I miss you.Or maybe just,I miss what we had or what we used to be.It is one of those times when I discern that I don’t know you anymore, but I still love you.

Today,is just that day.Possibly, some years down the line,we will run into each other in a cafe or some other public places and things will be contrasting then. Possibly,that’s what future holds for us. Possibly,not. 3 am and loneliness isn’t a very good mixture.

You undervalue the power of fate, as you makeup pictures in your mind.It is a moment of chance,but I always realise the next day, there is no chance.We can never be.It was just my mind dreaming things, assuming scenes.

To provide someone a spark of hope, of something they want the most in their life; Only to take it away, is dreaming of nightmares.

Being soft at heart, I used to feel ‘special’, that every once in a sec, I get to talk to you and spend some moments with you,even if it is just in my mind. But,with the time I have realised,it’s not special at all.It’s heartbreaking.

There is no writings in sadness. If you see writings in sadness, my friend,you are new to heartbreak.

At most,writing your heartout is just an escape from sadness. And,I have escaped from this sadness,temporarily. For it is 6 am now, the rain has stopped and I have done writing this.I have a long day ahead to survive,and optimistically, to live. I hope you are happy living your life without me.

Still at war with myself,

The one who fell for you.

Dear Feburary,

Dear feburary,

You evoke the memories of that person in me who is often a little to buoyant in life. I mean you just figured out how your elder brother January is not following the tag of being an excellent start to the ‘excellent year’.The New Year commitments are already quivering in low assurance and the fiddle-footed zeal around this,’New Year’ is also plummeting a bit.

People call you the month of love.Maybe that’s the reason why you are shortest of them all.You give fallacious desires to romantics with no rope to hold on.Feelings that are expressed this month are simply believable when said sometime midmonth.On the other hand, when the same feelings are expressed or words are said in any other month,they are subject to undue uncertainity.

You revive the scars of the past and sow a seed of comparison every year.The warmest hug and the hardest goodbye all come alive before bedtime and make sleeping onerous for alot of us.You are basically a saturday morning that vowed a splendid breakfast feast but in actual,you just came with a mortal hangover and deep regrets.

Howbeit,you are the shortest month of the year,sometimes you seem the longest.

PS: Love shouldnot be limited to 28 days. So get over yourself.

Yours,

A cheerless yet cheerful romantic.

Just….

Maybe we’ll meet again,when we are slightly older and our mind less hectic,and I’ll be right for you and you’ll be right for me.

But right now, I am chaos to your thoughts and you are poison to my heart.