Thursday, 16 February 2017


"I was punched breathless with the strongest emotions I Have ever felt and they are now stored in my intuition as a writer."
- Amy Tan.


Chapter 1. The two peas in a pod.

Day *infinite*

This wasn't the plan. I arrived on the island a while back. Almost a year. Whirlpool of a year, I must take note to mention. That's besides the downpour that greeted the city alongside, apace with the close ones. It was beautiful in the eyes of the beholder. 

Something got lost immediately after. Time stopped and moved fast at the same time. Such loss, is long overdue. Not something to account for, but everything to shed a tear or two for. Heartbreaks- in place.

The guiding light, the north star- dimmed. Everything changed. Nothing was ever to be the same. 

Letting go of the pain is the right thing to do. Finders keepers. Lessons teach us to look forward, to let go and yet never give up. To put our hearts out there, to give it your all (DIVE IN)... to not live amongst shadows. 

"Sometimes... words go deep enough, to make you want to bleed; it's time (you know?) to let go; no matter how near or dear it is," she would teach me. For 9 years. All of childhood too.

~I walk with the candle burning still.

"When words go deep enough,
to make you want to cry;
When knives go deep enough,
to make you want to die;
It's time (you know?),
to move on;
No matter how near or dear it is."

Chapter 2. The Student.

It's a rigorous regime. Remember the first day of school? I have a picture. Two pigtails, a blue and white pin stripped dress, with such an excited happy expression. Recall being so scared secretly, not knowing anyone in the new place, being the stranger.

PC: BoredPanda.

~Two decades is a long time ago. School changed around 5 times after. Adaptation was a part of the package. Excitement perpetually replaced fear and anxiety. The whole new town experience was too good to let anything get in the way. 
(Shh, there'll always come along a hand on your shoulder, a warm smile, an awkward joke, and soon enough, you'd be laughing. It's the thing about newness.)
48 cities, 25 years and counting. Ha. Personal record, I'm just starting.

The over-exceeding demand of the never-ending submissions in the ultra-cramped timeline is the headlines of the hour. You're either in the thick of it, or a little past it, recalling the times. Either ways, no way can you tell me it was not the best stage to be in. A reason or two will keep you going. The extra-curricular; the soccer tournaments, or was it cricket, or basketball; the madness of the sports day; the chaos of the annual functions; the warmth of the Christmas celebrations; the excitement about that School outing; don't forget the classified bunking, or the brigade of friends; we could go on. 
Isn't it, the reason for the flickering smile in the nostalgia?

That early morning of life- the sun just coming up, the dreams just beginning to peep into the horizon.

"Us giants are making whizzpoppers all the time! 
WHIZZPOPPING is a sign of happiness. It is music to our ears!
You surely is not telling me that a little
WhIzzPOppINg is forbidden among human bears?"
-Roald Dahl.

"A life is made up of a GREAT number of SMALL incidents, and a SMALL number of GREAT ones."

Chapter 3. The Monochrome Sparkle.

A little snigger crosses the mind, and it makes the slight tilt of lips into a smile. We don't pertain to settling down. We don't want nothing less than magic. It should fit, like how fingers get laced together within the gaps between each other. The subtle undertones of current, the skipped heartbeats, the stolen smiles, are too overwhelming to contain. Incredulous!

It's about knowing, and yet remaining unknown. It is the uncompromised deal of hands. The unmasked knowledge of standing along to see, to touch, to feel- the talking, the laughter, when he pulls you in to let you lean on his shoulder to sleep, how she lends an ear and cares,  or just how she will kick off her shoes and dance on the tables; is the reverie we're living for, the one we're living in. 

Don't have frivolous expectations from romance. Believe in the BIG LOVE. The all consuming kind of love, the kind you can't believe exists in this physical realm of the planet. 
The one that is yours.
It feels like an uncontrollable blaze. The ones you'll ever read about, maybe sing to, or even at times hear about. 

It is- the once in a lifetime fairytale. 

The starry wake.

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