To the FULFILLMENT of my life

Humans don’t love other humans because of who they are rather because of what they are to them. The question you asked me was utterly ridiculous but since, I love you ridiculously a bit too much, I shall not leave any of your questions unanswered. Here are a few reasons why:

  1.  You love animals. Very generic a reason, to show what you mean to me, but this aspect of you speaks in containers, so big, that haven’t yet been invented. A person who loves animals is capable of loving and accepting each part of nature. So, it is quite obvious that such a person can love another person only more and never less.
  2. You care. And you have no idea how rare of a quality that is in this spiteful world. Your talent lay in the immense concern that you hold for almost every person you meet because not everyone can do this.
  3. You value your relationships with each important person in your life and you try your best to never let an inch of a scar ruin them. A few little disagreements along with those brooks flowing down, don’t compare to the effort you invest in keeping your bond with these fortunate human beings intact.
  4. Your smile is one that can’t be faked. Your laugh is one that can’t be mimicked. Your expression of happiness makes you you.
  5. You are generous, helpful, kind, polite and gentle. You can empathize and console anyone who touches you, even in the slightest way possible. In fact, you inspire me to be more understanding and mature when it comes to situations where I might not gain anything rather, maybe lose something.
  6. Yes, your bad, angry, selfish and insanely possessive self makes you an earthly creature. Because, trust me, if there were anymore greatness in you in having this  amazing and brilliant cotton-candy sweetness filled in your body, you would be glowing the room with the halo above your head.
  7. This statement is not the last and never the least – When I see you, I don’t see a mirror or a clear stream of flowing water. I see you like seeing myself through a weaving machine whose separate yarns might pose an obstruction to each part of you when seen closely, each part, as if revolting against the image on the other side but when I take a step back and see the figure of a person, it is a soul whose framework is almost the same as my soul on the other side.

This list can be created to be made to pace the equator but I have to conclude for the sake of saying more the next time round. I shall dare to say that while you think what’s there to love about you, I think what isn’t. The day you’ll get a person who will feel as bewildered as me when you ask this same question to him or her, you, you mercury-filled soul, shall understand why I call you beautiful. Also, please, please engrave this in your mind for eternity that YOU ARE YOUR OWN PERSON.


To the rainbow in everybody’s life.

The violets were like pastel flowers blooming towards the blithe, blue sky. The grumpy green grass could have been greener, had it not been fall and had the yellow circle face on the sky been brighter. The oranges were slightly shaken on their branch when the puffed up male cardinal flew into its haven. Each element in a harmony so melodious that your eyes would ache to find a flaw.

One, not so perfect, morning, I woke up to feel a similar image in my head. Only the warmth of violet seemed to flower towards the blues in my head. Only my mind-grass was more youthful because the smile was just the right amount of sunny. Only the orange fruit of my pondering over one thing, night after day, wasn’t shaken when the person soared high above in my brain.

I realised I was seeing almost the same image that had been projected the last time Nature seemed so appealing. What was different? – you ask. Nothing, if you don’t consider the fact that the cardinal that flew in this time was a female.

We Can Only Imagine

When I was in the sixth grade, I remember me and my friends desperately yearning for a time machine. So that we could just hop into the future, not so that we could run back to the past. As we grew up, I noticed how the whole concept of time machines was completely obliterated from our minds. Who wants a time machine now? A nice way to put it is “We grew up”. I wonder then, did we just grow up?

No, we didn’t. How many times have we told ourselves, “Wish I could know what is in store for me” or “Wish I could go back to the past and undo that”? That is in itself the desire we have cultivated in ourselves to actually own a time machine. It doesn’t end there.

How many times have we replayed the past in our heads? And how many sunrises and sunsets have we spent on how we want our future to look like? We have envisioned the anticlockwise as well as the clockwise rounds made by time’s whiskers. That is us, creating the buttons that shall take us back or front, the gears that will decide the years and filling the tank with our passion to actually turn time. It isn’t finished yet. Now, it’s the moment we try our first trip, except that we know that it won’t be the last.

Wherever you are, whoever you are, flash back to one year back from now. Or two years or a couple more. If you have just joined college, I am sure what you can see is your younger self imagining herself, getting into college. If you have just selected your subjects of interest, I am sure you can see the little guy wanting to get rid of the subjects he dislikes. If it’s your first day at work, I am sure you can see a person who is waiting for the day he or she’ll get to seem all responsible and adult-like at his or her respective professions.

And it is the same for every photograph of your life. Again, wait for it. I know that maybe it isn’t exactly what you had dreamt for yourself, maybe it’s nowhere near what you had pictured in your head, but we are humans. As humans we are always looking ahead and be it bad or good, we are thinking of the future. The past IS our future and whether or not the landscape of your life is beautiful or ugly or just plain blank, you are standing at a place which you could have only imagined a few years back.

This isn’t meant to make you feel grateful for wherever you’re at, because that is your call. This is meant to make you be hopeful for whatever is about to come, because again that is a world you can only imagine of right now. Thoughts might not be the exact reality, but do let me know how it was travelling in your time machine. And don’t worry, this first trip was on me.

Waves remind me of Home

When the waves wash Sand, he feels peace, freshness and the warmth of the cool water
which reminds him of where he belongs. But that happens only twice a day. When it happens,
Sand wishes that it happened more frequently because the smell of assurance that the waves
carry are the most soothing for him and he wants to stay in it for an eternal round of the
clock. Although Sand in his own oceanic turbulence of
emotions would yearn to be with the water just a bit more longer, forever, during low tide
he realises why the moon has been mechanised to balance the measures which contain the
fluid transparence. It is so that Sand can be himself. Had the waters bathed him in
tranquility everyday would he even appreciate it?
His granules would never learn what it is to envelope the waves in their microscopic arms.
He would never know what it is to feel at home.

The 28 year old dusted the sand off his clothes
while making himself understand how the twice
a year visit to his ancestral home in the village
wouldn’t remain a retreat from his skyscraper-
filled life, if the fresh air surrounded him all the time.

It isn’t a struggle if you don’t talk about it

Seed was carried by the wind and dropped in the most fertile soil ever. Seed didn’t know where she was from but she knew where she was going to spend the next years till she grew a bark and spread her roots in that very soil. The soil was the best soil she could ask for, apparently cause it had all the nourishing support it needed. Apparently. Still, the soil had its own deficiencies. Deficiencies that couldn’t affect her but after all she was a part of it. She had to grow with them. Witness their inefficiency every single day and yet, remind herself that it was none of her business. All she had to do was take the nutrition from it, grow and be grateful that it was there in the first place. She grew up seeing them, which only shattered her faith in all the beautiful things, but she wasn’t gonna be sad on the exterior because after all it wasn’t her call. It took her quite a year to realise that but once she had done it, she felt stronger. Strong to carry the weight of the trunk that shall support her for the rest of her life.

And there came that question to the girl who wouldn’t want to let anyone know of her struggles – “You didn’t have to brave any odds yet. What are you so proud of?”

A Spectacle in a world full of Shades

“She looked around her. No, she didn’t try to break free. She didn’t even try to touch the glass walls around her. Why would she, when she knew that they were a part of her? It was just like the borders she drew on pages of her sketch-book before starting a new distortion, a new fantasy. Ironic as it may seem, to limit the extents of fantasy, it was the truth. The glass walls reminded her of this very truth. She knew that if she tried to shatter that reflecting transparent surface, her transparency would be lost. The needle-mouthed edges will enter without knocking and create more eyes in her body than she requires. Therefore she needs them.

This is how (only ) aliens shall look at her because all around her are similar boxed souls. Although, their enclaves are made of that same see-through metal, she is grateful. Because hers isn’t tinted. Because she can see the objects for what they are, and not just in the colour she is boxed in. The souls around her can only view everything in just that one colour that has been diffused in the crystal visibility. There is repetition of colours. But, no pattern whatsoever. Also, everyday she sees a new colour. It is amusing and entertaining for her to look at how colours want to defy other colours and create a new colour of their own, not realising that whatever the shade might be, after all, it is impure. It can never be the same as the hard clear water enveloping her in a way similar to the spectacles protecting her eye.”
The myopic girl removed the bounded lenses to wipe off the foreign elements while smiling at the people wearing shades.

Forest Floor Friendship

School has ended. Exams are around the corner. But she just can’t stop thinking. And she thinks about all that has ever happened and a sudden dawn spreads its rays over her mind. She had always wished for a big group of friends. If not that, she was recently wondering how she doesn’t fit in anywhere. And she yearned for humans LIKE her to like her. But that chapter had ended. Inspite of this desperation to just free herself from her own distortions, she suddenly KNEW something. That two people were still there and they were all she had right then, and she was all they had. No, it wasn’t sympathy but gratitude towards them that made her address them both –

To the dandelion and the black rose,

Our environments have been smashed together.
We didn’t choose to live in the same forest, that
too, sharing the same soil. In that hostile
ecosystem we couldn’t make promises to stay
together forever. We couldn’t say that we won’t ever
fight again because we had to, to compete, to survive.
Black rose knew this the best. Dandelion fought
the most probably because she was still too young
to know the truth. But over two revolutions of the sun
or more, all of us have blossomed to become
full grown flowers with flawed leaves that touch each
other but do not cause any trouble. Our fights have
become silent promises of tolerance and acceptance
but the end line isn’t this but something else. The end
is that we survived at room temperature, we existed in
the reality and our friendship is the closest thing to
perfection I have ever seen because there isn’t any
artificial wilderness mingled in our forest floor. And I
seek to grow infinitely together.
Wild Orchid.

She now writes the address down and posts it to their hearts.